“Is that all she taught you?”
“She taught me lots of things.” A soft smile touched his face.
“Sounds like she’s earned a special place in your heart.” Laura gritted her teeth.
“I do miss her.”
“Another woman with a broken heart?”
“Jealous?” He grinned.
“No, just wondering if there are enough to form a support group.”
“One sec.” He pushed back the table. His amused expression irritated her. She watched him go to the bookcase and pull a photo album off the shelf. He flipped the thick pages until he came to the desired page. Marking the page with his finger, he came toward her. Curiosity prickled her. Maybe the album would explain the reason for his triumphant look.
“What?” She looked down at the page where his finger pointed.
“My darling chef.”
“This doesn’t mean anything. You might have been her boy toy.” The little old woman had a grandmotherly smile and hair full of white curls.
“You’re a sick puppy.”
“Are these people her family?” Laura couldn’t help being intrigued.
“Yes. Three generations, almost four. Her granddaughter was pregnant at the time.” He took a deep breath, his voice a tad wistful. “She’s since died. Her son and his company were my main sponsor in France and we hit it off. I got adopted by the family. Or maybe I let myself be surrounded by them.”
“I’m sorry to hear of her passing. I would’ve loved to pass on my gratitude that you’ve graduated from grilled cheese sandwiches melted by your iron to a wonderful tasty meal.” She wiped the corner of her mouth with the napkin, grinning at him. “And how’s your family?” she asked.
“I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my mother and father on an empty stomach.” He opened a soup tureen. “This isn’t the main dish.”
“Chase, I can’t eat all of this food.”
“See, that’s one of the things I learned in France. You shouldn’t eat your food in a huge rush. It should be savored, the company enjoyed, conversation shared.”
Laura followed his advice. The vegetable soup was simple and delicious. Chase kept the conversation lighthearted. By the time she had moved to the meal, her taste buds were on sensory overload. The Alfredo sauce tasted like heaven and she acknowledged with each forkful of pasta that the hips would get a little rounder and her arms may flap in the wind. It didn’t stop her from chewing the large mouthful of food. She closed her eyes, enjoying the rich flavor.
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