"But Uncle Roarke, all you do is work.Mia says?—"
"What else does Mia say?"I ask, though I'm not sure I want to know.
Isla's eyes light up."She says you're probably lonely because you don't have anyone to sing with.And that Captain Feathers thinks you need more fun in your life."
I look at the bird, who's currently dismantling the sugar packet holder."Captain Feathers thinks I need more fun?"
"UNCLE ROARKE GRUMPY!UNCLE ROARKE NEEDS LOVE!"
"I'm adding voice coaching to that bird's training regimen," I mutter.
Two hours later, I'm sitting in Club Nautique's private poker room, surrounded by crystal decanters and the comfortable energy of Monaco's most exclusive betting club.
The familiar ritual of cards and expensive whiskey should be calming my nerves.
Sitting around a felt green table with my buddies Donovan Whitfield (luxury hospitality CEO), Zander Kane (renewable energy head), and Prescott Hayes (private equity genius), my head usually clears—empties.
Instead, I'm still thinking about show tunes.
"You're distracted," newcomer to our poker game Connor Reeves declares at my right, dealing another hand."And you've been checking your phone every five minutes."
A new friend and bonus edition to today’s game after he and fellow Seattle bigwigs bought a yacht from my growing fleet, his ocean-blue eyes are amused as he glances over.
"I'm fine."I study my cards, trying to focus on something that doesn't involve parakeets or musical theater.
"Sure you are," Donovan chuckles, his hospitality empire having apparently taught him to read people like menus."What's got you wound up?The charter launch?"
"Speaking of launches," Zander leans back in his leather chair, "how's the new nanny situation working out?Heard you found someone."
The words ‘found someone’ makes my heart rattle beneath my ribs.
“We have.”I clear my throat.“She’s adequate.”
Prescott raises an eyebrow."Adequate?That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"She keeps Isla entertained.That's all that matters."
"Entertained how?"Connor asks.
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes.Then buzzes again.Then starts ringing.
I excuse myself, twisting in my chair to take the call.
"Mr.West…”
Claire.Her voice sounds calm.A little too calm.
"I need you back at the yacht.Immediately."
"I'm in the middle of?—"
"There's been an incident with Isla, Captain Feathers, and Miss Rossi.No one's hurt," she adds quickly, "but you really need to see this."
I can hear shouting in the background.And what sounds suspiciously like...singing?
"I'll be right there."I stand, tossing my cards on the table."Gentlemen, I have to?—"
"Go handle your adequate nanny situation?"Donovan grins."This should be interesting."
