Page 8 of Hearts Aweigh
His daughter’s full smile broke out, and Spencer’s heart cracked. He contemplated the person who’d caused the miracle, and her answering smile beamed.
Whowasthis woman?
Abby possessed a certain talent. A gift. Something that came in handy in her line of work. She could read a child in ten seconds. A quirk of the eyebrow or curl of the lip alerted her to troublemakers. And an overly innocent appearance or sweet-as-sugar simper didn’t hide a bully’s intentions. But this little girl …
This little girl broke her heart.
She was dressed in expensive pink lace, and a gold locket with a diamond bigger than most engagement rings dangled from her neck. She obviously lacked nothing material. Yet her anxious eyes told Abby she was missing all the important things that made a child feel loved and at ease.
Abby took stock of the gentleman beside her. “Is this your father?”
Madeleine paused, then nodded.
Abby observed the man. Her talent for reading people didn’t extend to adults. Once a person passed into maturity, they grew better at hiding themselves. His suit was out of place in this festive environment, and his handsome face gave nothing away. Two dark, almost black eyes returned her scrutiny. But he didn’t look cruel. Cold and reserved, yes. But not a monster.
Abby rose from her crouched position. “I’m Abigail O’Brien, a member of the childcare team. Have you enrolled Madeleine in our day care service? We offer many different activities.”
“There’s no need. I’ve brought a governess to care for her.”
Sourpuss.The thought came unbidden to Abby’s mind. She wasn’t sure if she meant the dad or the nanny. It applied to both.
“I see.” Abby spotted another young girl entering the lobby and slipped a fresh tiara from her basket. “If you change your mind, she’s always welcome.” She tapped his daughter’s nose. “Glad I got to meet you, Madeleine. I hope to see you again.”
“Bye.” The child waved with her hand held close to her body.
Abby waggled her fingers, reclaimed her basket, and turned to leave.
“Just a minute,” the father said. It was a command, not a request.
The crowns clattered as she faced him. He stood still without saying anything. The seconds ticked, and the silence crackled between them. She fingered the rhinestones.
He finally spoke. “How much do I owe you for the tiara?”
Abby opened her mouth but closed it as her mind filtered her first response. The customer was always right. “No charge, sir.” She winked at Madeleine. “Every princess deserves a crown.”
Emily flashed her eyebrows at Gerry. It appeared finding a match for their latest client might be easier than they anticipated. An interesting marriage prospect had presented himself in short order. Daisy’s divorced son, no less. Their fellow Shipper could fill in the required information sheet and save them the trouble of a background check.
Thanks for minimizing the paperwork, Lord!
Spencer Masterson cut a striking figure. His honed physique filled out his tailored suit like a modern-day Cary Grant. The prepossessing visitor refocused from the departing Abby to his mother. But Daisy’s attention was glued to her grandchild.
“Madeleine.” Her voice cracked.
Her son adjusted the pristine cuff of his dress shirt. “For heaven’s sake, don’t make a scene.”
Daisy’s body tightened. She elevated her chin the slightest bit and pointed dry eyes at him. “You remind me of your father. I can’t recall how many times he admonished me with those exact words. I admit it’s difficult to compose myself when the granddaughter I’ve met only three times stands before me, but I’ll do my best.”
Emily rose halfway from her seat. A hand restrained her. Althea had slipped alongside, an unusually pensive expression on her usually jolly face. She shook her head. “Let them duke it out on their own.”
Madeleine shifted from one foot to the other. Her dress swayed around her slender legs. She patted the ridges of the tiara atop her head and hummed to herself.
Daisy’s gaze returned to her. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yes.” Her son’s face softened when he looked at his daughter.
“As a baby, she had dark hair. It’s lightened, like strands of sunlight.”
“Do they offer poetry classes on this boat?” Spencer took inventory of his mother. “I don’t recall you being so effusive.”
