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“I'm not feeling hungry.”
“Not feeling hungry, or too scared to get to the table?” She gives me a knowing grin. “I'm Celine.” She smells of lavender, and I immediately feel peaceful around her.
“I'm Cari, Brooke's nanny.”
“I thought you might be, on account of how you won’t let her out of your sight. Can I get you some food from the adult table? I sense you're more than capable of getting it yourself, even if you have to cross that group to get it.”
“If I needed food, trust me, they wouldn't be in my way.” The truth is, breakfast in the morning is a banquet with plates of fresh fruit, pancakes, bacon, and cereal, as well as freshly baked croissants and pastries. I more than ate my fill this morning.
Celine chuckles. “Brooke has grown,” she says, fondly, surveying Brooke as a proud grandmother would.
“She just turned five.”
“Five,” she says, wistfully. “How times marches on. And how is Jett?”
I immediately force myself to think of Jacques in order to keep my face from blushing and keep my thoughts in check. “He's ... very busy.”
“Busy. As always.” Celine nods, folding her arms and watching the girls, her gaze going to Brooke often.
?“How do you know Brooke?” I ask, curious to discover more. I wish I'd seen her earlier, because I would have sat out with her while watching the girls in the pool. Now we're about to go and watch a film in the cinema room, wherever that is.
She surveys me for a few seconds more than is normal. “Brooke’s grandmother was a very good friend of mine.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh ...” I am all ears, wanting to know whatever I can glean.
“Aurora Knight was as beautiful inside as she was on the surface.” Celine’s eyes turn misty. “I think of her a lot, especially when I see Brooke. Or Jett, Dex, and Zach, whenever the boys are here. Though when it's business, I don't see them at all.”
I don't even know what to say. But I have a question. “You didn’t mention Paul Knight.”
“No. I didn’t.”
Moving away from that topic, “You're here with ...?” I ask politely.
“My granddaughter, Zara.” She points to a pretty little girl sitting between Brooke and Madison. “Her mom, my daughter, is about to give birth, so I'm helping out.”
“Awww. She's lovely. They appear to be getting on really well.” I’ve noticed that Brooke seems to stick close to Zara’s side.
“They’re friends. When she was born, Sophia came here for a long break, more than a few months, and Zara was also a newborn then. We used to spend so much time together. I often think of how proud and happy Aurora would have been to see Brooke,her first grandchild—at least, the first one we knew about.” She mutters these last words to herself, and I am still processing that when she adds, “We only see Brooke once a year, if that. But I'm always astonished at how quickly these youngsters can continue their friendship. It's like they've never been apart.”
Sophia. Jett’s wife. “There's something to be said for that,” I murmur. Children don't hold grudges the way older people often do. They let bygones be bygones.
“I need to go pick up something for my daughter, would you mind keeping an eye on Zara for me? I’m sorry to lumber you with this, given that you’ve ended up taking care of—
“It’s really not a problem,” I say, rushing to ease her worry. “I would rather be here, with the girls.”
“Thank you.” This woman is so lovely. I want to spend more time with her. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Take as long as you want, and please don't worry about Zara.”
“With you around, I know she’s in good hands.” She winks at me. “I hope Madison won't be too upset with her. Zara adores Brooke. She’s missed her.” She leaves quickly, and I feel all alone again.
The girls finish their lunch, and Abigail seems pleased that I'm keeping an eye on the children. She asks me if I'll be okay to watch a movie with them, then informs me that a staff member will put on the film once I’ve herded the girls into the cinema room.
Before I can ask her where that is, she’s already walking back to her friends.
“Who’s ready to watch a film?” I ask the girls.
“I want to show them my designer doll collection,” Madison announces, sliding off the stool.