Chapter 0227

I watch Kent carefully as he smiles at the memory and then adds pieces of his own, making Natalia laugh — perhaps a little too

hard — when he reminds her that that was the first time he ever had fois gras, and how much he hated it. The conversation

passes mostly like this, with Natalia and Kent and Alessi trading fond memories of their youth, sometimes slipping into Italian to

better express their meaning.

And as I look around at the table, watching Daniel laugh along with them in the moments when I cannot understand the words,

and catching Natalia watching me when she thinks I’m not looking, I realize that...this dinner could very well be about me. About

making it quite clear to me precisely how much I do not fit in this family — the little American girl who has never been to Italy or

France, who cannot understand Italian, or cook, and who certainly has never had fois gras.

And who does not like it when I try it tonight.

As I push my little plate away, a single bite taken out of my pate-and-baguette, I lean over to Daniel to whisper in his ear.

“Daniel, who organized this dinner?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

“Natalia,” he replies, leaning close to tell me in my ear. “A surprise. The chef is an old friend, apparently — she organized it this

afternoon.”

Nodding, smiling at him to let him know that all is well, I turn back to the table better prepared to go to war. Because I’m figuring

out that that’s precisely what this is.

War.

But Natalia surprises me by ignoring me further, chatting lightly mostly to Kent throughout the next two courses, keeping up such

a steady stream of conversation at the small table that the rest of us don’t really have a chance to change the subject. I do note,

as well, that our glasses are liberally resupplied with wine, and that Natalia never finishes hers (so I don’t either), though each of

the men do.

I watch Natalia quite, quite closely as she pretends to ignore me, so I notice the precise moment when she makes her move. It

happens just after the meat course is served — a gorgeous roasted game hen for each of us — and each of us are provided with

our fifth glass of wine, which I’m curious to see Kent lift to his lips, having fallen under her nostalgic spell more than I thought him

capable of doing.

“Kent,” Natalia says, a fond smile on her face, her eyes sparkling curiously, “when do you think it is that you will take a second

wife? It is long past time, no?”

Kent goes still for a second, just a second, and I feel Daniel perk up next to me curiously. But I watch, fascinated, realizing that

Natalia has bided her time so precisely that neither Kent nor Daniel bristle at her, which I know they usually would at anyone who

dared ask Kent about his romantic intentions at any other time.

Masterful, I think, leaning my elbow on the table and resting my chin on my hand, flicking my eyes to Kent, curious to see what

will happen next.

“Don't be ridiculous, Natalia,” he

laughs — laughs, I think, well dene

(alia Hat aah \dssi ly be on my

now. I’m too busy.” Please read

the original content at

.

“Ohhh,” she replies, and I feel my

spine stiffen a little as I watch Natalia

lean closer to Kent, rea binghen i

repetuiaoesaNey strand of hair

behind his ear. “But that is precisely

what a wife can do for you, no? Take

some of the pressure off so that you

can concentrate on what really

matters?” Please read the original

content at .

And I’m glad I have my chin in my

hand at that moment because,

honestly, if it werer(t, dl be at deep I

rsh obryvouthtta ling open.

Because I realize quite suddenly that

I was wrong; this dinner isn’t about

Natalia making a move against me.

Please read the original content at

.

She’s making a move for Kent.