I picked up the clothes on the bed and returned them to the dresser. Then I zipped up my empty suitcase and re-stowed it under the table.

Opening the door, I jumped when I saw Dauphine waiting in her doorway to my left. She smiled shyly at me.

“Hi,” I said.

“Bonsoir. Allons-y?”

I shrugged. “Sure, let’s go. You lead the way,” I said.

She danced past me in bare feet and the same dress she’d been wearing earlier. “What games do you like?” she asked over her shoulder as we made our way up the inside of the yacht.

“Games? Like board games?”

“Hide and seek?”

“Actually, that’s a game I never play.”

She swung around to face me, a challenge in her eyes. “Non? Pourquoi?”

“Because I don’t like small cramped spaces. And all the best hiding places are like that. So I’m not a very good player.”

Her brow furrowed, reminding me of a certain caustic Frenchman upstairs. There was no mistaking Dauphine as his daughter. Then her expression smoothed out. “Then I will win all the times. We must play!”

I chuckled. “Nope. I would love to, I promise. But I won’t. We can play other games.”

Her lips pursed off to the side of her mouth as if I was a problem to solve.

“Come on, princess. Let’s go upstairs. I’m ready to eat my own hand.”

“What does this mean?”

“It’s a joke.”

“Hmm.”

“Race you.” I took off ahead of her.

She squealed behind me. “Non!”

We sailed past the bridge, Captain Paco nowhere to be found. I pounded up the last few steps with a laugh. Behind me Dauphine yelled, “Attention!”

As our heads emerged on the upper deck, I was thankful her yelled warning was unneeded since no one had been on the stairs at the same time.

Night had settled fast.

I bent over for a moment to catch my breath as Dauphine joined me, giggling. A glow came from the table. There were two hurricane jars enclosing a candle each on the table.

Andrea was standing over Mr. Pascale at the head of the table, one hand behind her back and the other pouring him a glass of pale pink wine. She gave me a quirked eyebrow.

Mr. Pascale looked less than pleased.

“Papa,” exclaimed Dauphine and rapid fired French at him.

He let out an uncomfortable chuckle, and his shoulders relaxed a notch.

A strong smell of buttery garlic wafted toward me, and my mouth flooded with saliva.

I caught my boss’s hooded eyes as they moved to me from his daughter. I pulled out the chair to his left with Dauphine to his right.

The plate in front of Dauphine had prosciutto-wrapped melon artfully placed on it. It was one of my favorite dishes with its salty-sweet flavor.

Dauphine clapped her hands together when she saw it.