I open the pantry and fiddle through, pleased to find pancake mix. At least I won’t have to prepare it from scratch. I grab a bag of chocolate chips.
“What do you think, Nova? Do chocolate chips go in pancakes?” I show her the new bag, and she nods and jumps up and down excitedly.
“Inside,” I gesture with my hand. “Or on top?”
“What are we making?” Moreno strolls into the kitchen and grabs the bag of chocolate chips from my hands.
“Breakfast,” I say, stating the obvious.
He doesn’t look the least bit amused. “With chocolate?”
“Ever heard of pancakes?” It’s not like I’m giving her a chocolate bar for breakfast, though the look of disgust that crosses Moreno’s face may as well suggest it.
He opens the pantry and puts the chocolate chips back inside.
“What are you doing?” I can’t believe he thinks he can boss me around. Yes, he’s her father and probably knows what’s best for her, but it’s one day with chocolate chip pancakes. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.
“Nova isn’t eating chocolate for breakfast.” He yanks open the refrigerator and pulls out a pint of blueberries. “Pop these in when you mix the batter.”
I glance at Nova, pouty and wide-eyed, staring up at me, her head tilted to the side. I swear she’s trying to convey to me to fight with her father for her to have chocolate, but I don’t need to be in any more hot water.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath with a fake smile. It’s about all I can muster. “Where are the mixing bowls?” I don’t know where anything is located in the massive kitchen, and while the pantry is obvious, there are dozens of cabinets. The bowls could be anywhere.
Moreno bends down and opens the cabinet beside the fridge, retrieving a metal bowl for me to mix the ingredients. “Silverware is in this drawer.” He indicates to the drawer above the bowls. “And the spatula and whisk are over here.”
“Thanks.”
He opens the drawer and hands me a whisk before leaning back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest.
“Do you want me to make you a breakfast too?” I ask. I’m not sure why he’s staring. It’s nerve-wracking.
“That isn’t necessary. Chef Savino will be in shortly. I did want to have a word with you alone,” Moreno says.
Moreno opens the fridge, grabs a carafe of fresh orange juice and a plastic cup from the cabinet, bringing it to the table for Nova. He pours her a cup and pats the top of her head. “Did you sleep well?”
I mix the ingredients into the bowl, trying not to stare at the interaction between Moreno and his daughter. Her shoulders are tight, her body stiff.
Is she afraid of him?
He sighs and comes around the counter, perching himself at the edge. “I think you may be right, well, partially right.” He is quick to clarify his position.
“About?”
Moreno glances over his shoulder at his daughter. “Nova could use a day at the park. Maybe interacting with other kids her age would be good for her. Luca is a sweet kid, but he’s quite a bit older.”
I can’t help but grin. “That’s good. She could use a few friends,” I say. I get the feeling she doesn’t play with anyone other than Luca ordinarily.
“Maybe,” Moreno says, “but you have to take Leone with you.”
“What? Why?” Is he crazy? Leone will scare off everyone at the park, especially any friends that Nova could potentially make.
“Being a businessman means that my family is easily a target. I can’t take the chance that something will happen to Nova. You do understand, don’t you?” Moreno asks.
I don’t, but I smile and nod. “Yeah, sure.” If he wants me to let some guard tag along, fine.
“Leone will drive you both to the park and anywhere else that you think is educational,” Moreno says. “I want my daughter to have a well-rounded upbringing before her schooling begins.”
I drop the spoon into the mixing bowl and step closer to Moreno. Something feels off. Like he’s trying too hard.