Page 48 of From Paris, with Butter
Chef La Croix himself put the platter for the final course in my hands. Arrayed on it were a variety of cheeses and fruits. In the center was the tetilla with a large diamond ring over its tip. It looked mildly obscene to me, but that’s what Señor Costa had asked for.
“Almost done,” Yasmine whispered as I made to step back onto the floor.
I beamed as I brought out the platter. Señor Costa followed me with wide-open eyes as I made my way to their table. When I was a few steps away, he took Prime Minister Abascal’s hand between his own.
“Emilia,” he began, his voice catching.
I gently placed the platter in the center of the table, turning it so the large rose-cut diamond faced the Prime Minister. I already could tell that she was a woman able to hide her emotions, but even she couldn’t keep her eyebrows from arching high on her forehead.
“Emilia,” Señor Costa said again softly, and such a look passed between the two of them that it almost took my breath away. I stepped back so they could have their moment.
From the doorway, I watched as Señor Costa spoke a little longer. He reached for the ring and slipped it on the Prime Minister’s finger. She admired her hand with shining eyes, then looked at her new fiancé. They both smiled at each other, and again I felt my chest pinch.
The couple lingered over their final course, ordering more glasses of wine as they sampled the cheeses. I stood just outside the doorway, waiting for any sign that they needed me. All the other diners were gone, and in the back, the rest of the staff were already popping champagne bottles. I could hear the hushed, ecstatic hum of their voices.
When both the Prime Minister and her fiancé had drained their glasses and eaten every last bite of cheese, I went back over. The bill had already been taken care of by the Prime Minister’s assistant, so there was nothing left for me to do other than congratulate them.
“We’re all thrilled for you both,” I said as I pulled the Prime Minister’s chairout for her. “And we wish you a lifetime of happiness together.”
“It was a wonderful meal,” the Prime Minister assured me, all smiles now. Señor Costa barely glanced my way. He only had eyes for his fiancée.
When the couple and their entourage finally, finally, finally, got in the elevator, I made sure I remained attentive and smiling until the doors were fully shut. Then I rushed to the kitchens and joined the party.
A cheer greeted my arrival. Paul immediately pressed a glass of champagne into my hands, and Leïla pointed me toward the platters of food being passed around.
“You were absolutely wonderful,” Yasmine said as she hugged me, a fistful of profiteroles clenched in each hand.
“I would have spilled wine on their laps two courses in,” Luc said.
“Maybe someone took a picture of you serving them, Margot, and it’ll end up in the news!” Colette squealed.
Everyone was congratulating me, and congratulating each other, and passing around food and bottles of wine. Suddenly, the crowds parted. Chef La Croix stood before me, his face inscrutable. No one moved. I wasn’t even breathing.
Chef La Croix appraised me, his eyes dark and foreboding. Then, silently, he bent down, grasped my shoulders, and kissed me loudly on each cheek.
He pulled back so that we were looking directly at each other. For a moment, the only sound I heard was the champagne bubbling in my glass. Then Chef La Croix spoke.
“What a bunch of pissers, eh?”
He began to laugh, his whole face crinkling in mirth, and I started to laugh, and that set everyone else off until I could barely breathe, and all I could think about was how perfect this moment was.
Chapter 18
It was late when the party finally wound down, and it was a brisk night, so I sprang for a taxi. Through the window, Paris glowed gold against the sharp darkness of the night. I barely noticed, though. All I was thinking about was Laurent.
He opened the door immediately after I knocked. He was still wearing a suit, probably because he’d had to work late after spending half the day on a wild goose chase for me. On his face was the widest smile I’d seen from him. I could hardly picture the grumpy man I’d served weeks ago.
“How did it go?” he asked as he pulled me into his arms.
I breathed in the citrus scent of his hair. “Perfectly. I mean, they were terrible, but the meal went wonderfully. All thanks to you.”
Laurent’s golden eyes crinkled with happiness. “Are you hungry? I know how easy it is to forget to eat while working in a restaurant.”
“I’m famished,” I admitted.
Putting an arm around me, Laurent led me to his kitchen and pulled out a chair. “How does a croque-monsieur sound? I know it’s not fancy, but I can make a good one.”
“That’d be wonderful,” I said as I sank into the chair.
