Page 78 of Owned By a Billionaire

His wife in Australia had piqued my curiosity, so I had her investigated to learn more about her, something I’d kept to myself.

Ethan kissed my cheeks. “Mother.”

I smiled at Mirabel, who held Cian’s and Ruby’s little hands. My grandchildren were so beautiful that all my worries melted away at that moment.

As the night progressed, I found myself cornered by the CEO of the new LA hotel. I forced a smile as he gushed on about how Hollywood A-listers would simply adore the classic luxury of the Lovechilde brand.

“But don’t they already live in LA?” I asked.

“Not Daniel and Rachel, or Idris, or George and Amal, and besides, British actors are the flavor of the month in Hollywood.”

“Haven’t they always been?” All my favorite actors were Brits. But I kept that to myself and before he could rebut that nationalistic comment, I excused myself.

Mirabel, who’d been standing within earshot, followed me to the powder room. “He spoke like he knew them.”

“Oh, he’s just trying to impress us,” I said as we stepped into the rose-scented room.

Mirabel stood at the mirror and leaned in to fix her makeup. “They have invited Cian to perform with the King’s Orchestra. They have a junior section, apparently.”

“Oh?” I smiled like a proud parent of a genius might. “But that’s marvelous.”

She nodded, mirroring my delight, her eyes beaming with anticipation. “I couldn’t be happier. He’s also showing an interest in jazz.”

“Oh no.” I pulled a face.

“You don’t like jazz?”

“I’m a fan of jazz classics. But being a jazz musician? Isn’t that synonymous with a drug-taking bohemian lifestyle?”

“He’s only eight, Caroline.”

I exhaled. “And so he is. I just love the thought of having Debussy or Bach performed at our family gatherings. And he’s so talented.”

“Yes. Perfect pitch, apparently.” She smiled.

“That’s a rare talent, I’m told.”

“I’ve got perfect pitch as well,” she said, as mildly as one would admit to having good teeth. Only perfect pitch was as impressive as possessing a high IQ. For a musician, at least.

I studied Mirabel. She had flowers in her hair and wore a green gown with pink roses, which shouldn’t have worked, but she always wore her clothes well.

“I didn’t know that.” I looked into her beautiful face and regretted the way I’d once shunned this woman. “Then you passed it on to him.”

“I must have, given that his father’s tone-deaf.” She laughed.

I had to smile. “Ethan has many talents, but music isn’t one of them.”

She nodded. “Cary’s not here, I see.”

“No. He’s busy.” Hoping there would be no further questions, I kept it short and sweet.

“I liked him.”

“He’s still around, Mirabel.” I gave her a curt smile before walking away, as the black caviar I’d just eaten churned in my gut.

Theadora was surrounded by children, and as I passed her, she waved.

“You’re the nanny, I see,” I said.

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