"Claire, she hated me.I hated her.Why would you hire her?"
"Because she's the only one who lasted more than five minutes with Isla during the practical interview."Claire consults her notes."The other candidates lasted exactly four minutes, two minutes, thirty seconds, seven minutes, and one memorable candidate who made it negative three minutes because Isla hid in the galley before the woman even introduced herself."
"And Rossi?"
"Spent two hours with Isla.They made friendship bracelets.Isla taught her the entire Hamilton soundtrack.They built a fort out of life preservers and had a tea party with the bridge equipment."
I clear my throat, knocking loose the knot inside it."Isla enjoyed it?"
"She asked if 'Miss Mia' could be her new best friend.”
"Claire—"
"Before you panic, I explained the job was temporary.Just until you find permanent arrangements."
Through the bridge windows, I watch the Monaco harbor approach as Captain Martinez guides us toward our berth.
Another day, another port, another failed attempt at launching the charter division that was supposed to honor my brother's memory.
"There has to be another option," I mutter, scanning the remaining candidate files."What about Number Three?The one with references from the British Royal Family?"
"Quit after Isla put bubble solution in her tea."
"Number Five?The Mary Poppins wannabe?"
"Isla convinced her that the yacht was haunted.She left during the séance."
I run a hand through my paint-streaked hair."How is one seven-year-old defeating highly trained childcare professionals?"
Claire stands and moves to the window, watching our approach to the dock."Skill.Determination.An inherited talent for chaos?"
"She gets that from her father," I mutter, then immediately feel guilty.
My brother Daniel had been impulsive, yes, but he'd also been the kind of man who could make anyone smile.
Unlike me.
My hand moves to my temple, fingers dragging over what I now realize is a still-drying splotch of glitter paint.“Claire, I need this charter division to launch successfully in four weeks.I’ve spent a year preparing to pitch Westward Charters as the Mediterranean’s premier luxury yacht experience.I cannot afford to implode over nanny logistics.”
“I know.Which is why I signed her to a one-month contract.Just enough time to get through the investor roadshow, the Cannes soft launch, and the Club Nautique reception.”
The yacht shudders slightly as we make contact with the dock, Monaco's glittering lights reflecting off the Mediterranean.Another perfect afternoon in paradise, and all I want to do is figure out how to fire a nanny I haven't officially onboarded yet.
"Look," Claire turns back to me, "I know Rossi wasn't your first choice?—"
"She wasn't my tenth choice."
"But she's qualified.Former chief stewardess with fifteen years' experience in luxury hospitality.Speaks four languages.Has a degree in child development.And most importantly, Isla adores her."
"What about the part where she thinks I'm a soulless corporate villain?"
"Maybe she'll change her mind once she gets to know you?"Claire's smile is entirely too innocent.
She turns toward the window, watching as Monaco’s old harbor comes into view.
This launch was supposed to be flawless—my chance to expand Westward Maritime into high-end private chartering.
To prove I could create something beyond shipping routes and cold logistics.Something inspired by my brother Daniel’s dream of bringing our family’s maritime legacy into something warmer.
