The sound of clinking glass, laughter, and popping corks made it seem like one big party. So, this was how the one percent did the beach? I chuckled to myself, remembering the way Tabs, Mer, and I always had to take turns lugging the cooler and our plastic chairs from where we could find parking, sweat dripping into our eyes, all the way to the boardwalk beach access on Sullivan’s Island or Folly Beach. Which reminded me, I needed to call them soon.

Dauphine and I followed her father as he made his way to the front of the restaurant and greeted a tall maitre d’ who kissed Mr. Pascale on both cheeks and ruffled his hair. I gathered he’d known him for a long time, and it made me smile to see my boss treated like a little boy.

I felt eyes on us, in a sort of who’s who way. It gave me a weird, uncomfortable feeling, reminiscent of the days following my stepfather’s arrest. Glancing around in my sunglasses, I almost did a double take as I recognized a famous model who’d been big in the nineties and at a separate table the ex-governor of California who had also been a movie star at one point. My heart rate sped up. Meredith and Tabs would freak out. God, I missed them. Meredith, especially, would get off on star spotting.

Not that anyone cared who I was, but I suddenly felt extremely exposed being in such a high-profile place. My cheeks burned and I felt vaguely nauseous. Nothing like being given the once over and summarily discarded to remind one of how insignificant one’s life could be perceived. Even though it brought a feeling of relief. The eyes definitely followed Xavier Pascale though.

The maitre d’ made a quick fuss over Dauphine, and then pointed us to a table in a corner of the restaurant under the twisty branch of a tamarisk tree.

Before we could sit, we were joined by an older man I knew instantly must be Xavier’s father.

He had the same thick cowlick at his forehead, though his was dark gray, and his hair was cut almost identically, short but curling around his ears and collar. The man and his son were roughly the same height. Interesting that they didn’t hug upon greeting each other.

When it was time for my introduction, I inhaled, overcome by nerves. Pushing my sunglasses up to my head, I stepped forward and stuck out my hand. “Dauphine’s nanny. Josie. Nice to meet you.”

The older Monsieur Pascale took my hand in greeting and then pressed damp lips to my skin. “Enchanté. I’m Etienne Pascale.” I gave a fake smile, pulled my hand away, feeling slightly soiled.