Breanne sipped her wine. It helps with the nerves… a little. She concentrated on eating her dinner slowly. She had never been one to gobble food, but the pace Pascale set felt excruciatingly slow. In fact, the only way she could duplicate it was to wait until the other woman took a bite before taking one herself.
The food really is delicious, she reflected, savoring each bite thoroughly. Pascale had carefully chosen fresh seasonal vegetables from the market and prepared them simply, beside a lovely roasted chicken, and fresh bread bought from the bakery—the boulangerie—that morning.
The one thing Breanne couldn't do was eat with her left hand. It’s too awkward, and I don’t want to practice in front of my future in-laws lest I fumble my dinner all over the table.
Pascale glanced sharply
