Page 67 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 2

“Sleeping. She was beat.”

“Jet lag took me out for like sixteen hours, right Uncle C?” She gestured to Christophe.

“That is true.” He smiled at my daughter and passed her what looked like a crepe. The man would have made an excellent father. He doted on Emily as if the sun rose and set with her. Then again, he didn’t have to live with her teen angst on a regular basis. He might not be so willing to spoil her rotten if he had even half the dose she gave me daily.

The cook set down a fully loaded plate of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and a perfectly cooked crepe. I did a double take on the crepe. Like I said, what Emily wants, Emily gets, especially when it’s Alana’s and Christophe’s to give her. I usually didn’t care as long as their gifts were within reason. Every teenager needed to be showered with love from the adults in their lives, and one adult in particular didn’t give Emily the attention she desperately needed.

“So can we go?” Emily asked around a mouthful of food.

“Go where?” I blinked not having a clue what she was going on about.

“Shopping, duh! With Maia and Alana at the Galeries Lafayette,” Emily practically whined.

“Darling, this word,duh,is irksome. It is rude and makes you sound like a small child and not the lady you are becoming. Can you cease using it?” Alana interrupted.

Emily’s mouth dropped open as she focused on Alana. Surprisingly, she nodded but didn’t respond.

Maybe my daughterwasmaturing before our very eyes.

“Merci beaucoup,” Alana responded with a sweet smile, and shocker of all shockers, Emily smiled back.

“Yes, honey, when both Maia and I are rested, perhaps tomorrow, we can go shopping.”

“But tomorrow…” And there was the annoying whine that grated on my last nerve.

Again, one sharp narrowing of Alana’s gaze and she looked down at her plate and pushed the crepe around.

“Okay Daddy, that’s fine,” Emily begrudgingly answered.

For a few minutes the four of us ate silently until Christophe spoke. “How about, while your dad and Maia rest, we can paint together?”

Emily’s eyes widened and her entire face lit up with excitement. “In yourstudio?” she breathed as if he was suggesting taking her to the mall with no spending limit.

“Oui. A few sessions with me and you will be painting your own masterpieces in no time,” Christophe boasted.

That time I rolled my eyes while Emily danced in her chair, eating her breakfast with more gusto than before. Probably eager to get to painting.

We finished eating and Emily popped up and took her plate to the sink. Again, where the hell did she get these manners? At home, it would take half an army to get her to do something as simple as cleaning up her own plate. She’d usually grouch that we had a live-in house attendant for that very reason, regardlessof the fact that I was doing my best in trying to teach her good manners.

“Hey Em, honey, can we chat in the living room privately for a few minutes before you meet up with Christo?”

“Go on,ma douce,”—my sweet, he called her—“I will get the supplies ready.”

I put my plate in the sink, and Emily followed me into the living room. She threw herself onto the couch ass first.

“Em, don’t sit like an elephant. The springs in the couch aren’t made like a trampoline. You run the risk of breaking the seat base when you do that. Sit like a lady,” I used the same phrasing Alana would have in the hope it might trigger this new side to my daughter. The mature side.

“Ugh, sorry, Dad.”

It worked. She actually apologized instead of griped.

I sat down next to her and put my hand on her knee. “Honey, I just wanted to talk about me having Maia here. You were really kind when you met her, and I wanted to thank you for being so nice.”

She frowned. “Because I’m not always nice to new people?”

I tilted my head and stared at her, giving her enough time to come to her own conclusion.

Emily looked down and stared to fiddle with her fingers. “I’m not that bad. I’m not mean toeveryone.”

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