“Is it the flavor? The—how do you say—the texture?” he questioned, using a fork to spear his bounty from the shell. “With all this sauce, you could eat anything.” He swirled it around in the bowl for maximum flavor before bringing it to his mouth.

“It’s not the flavor or texture, it’s what it looks like.”

He paused and looked down, studying the morsel on the end of his fork, his brow furrowed.

Then his confusion gave way to surprise, and he erupted into laughter. Moments later, the laughter still hadn’t subsided and his fork clattered to his plate. He pushed back from the table, a hand on his chest as his shoulders shook, and he lost himself in hysterics.

It was contagious, though I tried really hard to hold it in. But the sight of this carefully controlled serious man, losing his shit like a twelve-year-old boy in biology class, just busted me up, and before long I was laughing too. Especially when his eyes started to water, and he gasped, “Mon dieu.”

There was a noise from the stairwell, and I turned to see a group of shocked faces. Andrea, Evan, and even Paco’s head peeped over the top of the stairwell.

Another face appeared that I didn’t recognize, maybe the chef. And then Dauphine wiggled her way through them.

“What is funny?” she demanded.

I shared a look with her father. There was no way we could tell them. It was beyond childish. And for some reason, it set us both off again.

Dauphine stomped her foot. “Papa!”

“Sorry,” I managed, trying to sober.

“Je suis desolé,” Monsieur Pascale said at the same time, also apologizing.

Grabbing my napkin, I dried my eyes.

Evan and Paco had disappeared downstairs, but not before they both looked from one to the other of us in utter bafflement and speculation.

Looking at us both warily, Dauphine took her seat, but she was an extremely subdued version of the girl who had left the table minutes earlier. Her father’s mouth kept twitching as he reined in his humor, but his eyes briefly seared me with intensity. It was gone so fast I thought I’d imagined it.

Andrea and the chef brought the main course to the table. Sea bass for the grown-ups and spaghetti for Dauphine. After a brief introduction to Chef, he left too. When Andrea went to top up my wine glass, I stopped her with a small hand motion and smile. “Thank you, but I think I should only have one when I’m working.”