‘Can I? Really?’
Sophie’s suspicions deepened. ‘Do you cook with Cindy?’
‘No.’
‘Not even cupcakes or cookies?’
Sienna grimaced. ‘They’re messy.’
So who was the neat freak? Cindy the nanny? Or was this an extreme reaction by Sienna, wanting to be super-neat and tidy so her father would approve of her? ‘Mess is exactly what aprons are for. And vacuum cleaners,’ Sophie said firmly. ‘I make cupcakes with my niece Hattie all the time. She’s the same age as you.’
Sienna looked shocked.
Oh, honestly. Sophie had to bite her tongue. Right at that moment she wanted to shake Jamie Wallis until his teeth rattled. The whole point about childhood was to have fun while you were growing up and learning about the world. And, yes, she could understand that not everyone was comfortable living in total chaos, but if Sienna made a mess she could also learn how to clear up again.
‘We’ll make cupcakes tomorrow afternoon,’ she promised. ‘With sprinkles.’
‘Chocolate sprinkles?’ Sophie asked hopefully.
‘Absolutely yes.’ She’d pick them up tomorrow, together with a few other things she enjoyed doing with Hattie and Sam. She smiled at Sienna. ‘Right, I need you to do a very important job for me—can you show me where the pots and pans are?’
While she was directing Sienna to help her get the ingredients, she texted Jamie.
Dinner at six. You are eating with us in the kitchen. No arguments.
He ignored her text.
Well, fine. She wasn’t daunted.
Just before she was going to serve up, she rang him. ‘You have three minutes.’
‘I’m in the middle of something.’
She didn’t care. She’d already given him prior warning about when dinner would be ready. If he hadn’t paid attention, that was his problem. ‘I’m serving up now. Come and wash your hands for dinner.’
He hung up on her, and she wondered if she was going to have to go and drag him out of his study. But then she heard the door open and he strode into the kitchen.
Sienna beamed. ‘Daddy, you’re sitting here between me and Sophie. I laid the table. And I helped cook the bisgetti.’
‘Spaghetti,’ he corrected. ‘Did you?’ He gave Sophie a speaking look.
‘She was a brilliant sous-chef, just like my niece Hattie,’ she said.
Conversation during dinner was like pulling teeth. Jamie seemed to have no idea whatsoever how to talk to his daughter. Was he just hopeless with children in general, or was there something else going on here?
Sophie did the best she could to include both of them. Once they’d eaten, she said, ‘It’s bathtime, now, Sienna. Perhaps Daddy can do your bath and read you a bedtime story while I do the washing up.’
* * *
Bathtime.
Water.
Jamie had to dig his nails into his palms as a picture flashed into his head. Fran, her golden curls wet and plastered to her head. Her face so swollen and puffy, just like her throat had been inside, so no air could get through.
Fran, dead.
He’d avoided bathing his daughter ever since, leaving the job to Cindy. Sienna looked so much like Fran that he just couldn’t handle seeing her with wet hair and getting those flashbacks, the dreams that had had him waking in tears for weeks after it had happened.
Okay, so it had been two years and anyone would think he’d come to terms with it by now—he was overreacting. But he couldn’t bear it. He just couldn’t.
And Sophie really expected him to do bathtime?
Jamie looked horrified. ‘Cindy—’ he began.
‘—isn’t here. And you have a special question to ask Sienna which needs to be with just the two of you together,’ she reminded him.
Oh, God. There was no way round this. He was just going to have to face his demons.
‘Let’s choose a story,’ he said, desperately hoping that maybe if he dragged his feet a bit, he’d either be able to think of an excuse or Sienna might decide she didn’t want a bath after all.
But it didn’t work out that way.
He had to go through with it.
He made the bath as shallow as he possibly could.
‘Cindy puts more water in—and more bubbles,’ Sienna said.
‘Well, we haven’t got time tonight,’ he said, hating himself for lying to his little girl but not wanting her to know about the nightmares in his head.
‘And she washes my hair.’
No. Just no. ‘Not tonight,’ he said. ‘And we need to talk about Sophie. Would you like her to be your nanny until Cindy’s leg is mended?’
To his relief, it headed his daughter off the subject of her bath and hairwash.
‘I like Sophie. She’s funny. And she does all the special voices in a story,’ Sienna said. ‘And she let me help her cook bisgetti. I was her sushi.’
He couldn’t help smiling at that. ‘Sous-chef.’
‘Can she stay? Please?’
‘Yes,’ he said. Even though Sophie Firth was pushing him into doing things he normally avoided. Because the alternative meant taking time off and doing everything for Sienna himself until the agency sent a replacement—which could take a couple of weeks.
He hauled his daughter out of the bath and dried her swiftly, before helping her into her pyjamas. ‘Story,’ he said. ‘And then I need to talk to Sophie.’
* * *
Jamie had gone absolutely white when Sophie had suggested that he did Sienna’s bedtime routine. What was the problem? she wondered. She was starting to think that there was more to it than Jamie being a cold workaholic. But what? She could ask him straight out, but she had the feeling he’d avoid the question. If Sienna agreed to let her stay, then maybe she’d have enough time to find out exactly what was going on—and help.
She’d just finished the washing up when he came downstairs.
‘Well, you were a hit,’ he said. ‘I asked her, and she says she’d like you to stay until Cindy comes back.’
Though she noticed he didn’t look too pleased about it.
‘So I’m looking at my new sleeping partner, then?’ she asked.
His pupils dilated slightly and she realised how her words could’ve been interpreted; she felt a tide of colour surge into her face. ‘I mean my business partner who invests but lets me get on with running things and doesn’t interfere,’ she clarified.
‘Business partner. And you’re my new temporary nanny.’
‘Right. I’m glad. Sienna’s a lovely little girl. I’m going to enjoy looking after her. So I guess your solicitors need to talk to mine about the buyout, assuming you agreed with the figures in my proposal.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He paused. ‘Plus I need to give you the car keys. Hang on a sec.’ He fished a set of keys out of a drawer and handed them to her. ‘And the spare key for the front door. I was thinking you might find it more convenient to stay here overnight in future. Cindy’s staying at her boyfriend’s flat until her leg mends, so you can use her suite—or the guest suite, if you’d prefer.’
Staying overnight? That hadn’t been mentioned before. It wasn’t part