Broken French - Natasha Boyd Page 0,50

bundles of lavender, cases filled with pungent truffles. I walked with my mouth open, Dauphine dragging me along to look at dresses. It was a good thing I’d just eaten breakfast. Xavier trailed behind us, unwilling to hurry like his daughter, or perhaps not wanting to be grouped with us. He’d waved us ahead as we stepped off the tender and slipped on dark sunglasses and a ball cap pulled low. A disguise of some sort, I imagined.

“This is amazing,” I muttered, inhaling the scent of spicy salami, and noted the endless array of different types and lengths. Back home, salami was just salami. Unless you counted the odd fancy, over-priced charcuterie board that served to educate us that there might be more than one type. But even the most well-trained chef in Charleston would do his nut seeing the array of food in this market.

“Viens!” Dauphine whined as a cute guy in a white chef’s jacket offered a piece of fresh baked bread with soft cheese and dripping honey on it in my direction.

I reluctantly shook my head, with a mouthed merci, non.

But behind me, my boss’ voice cut in. “Try it,” he commanded, though his tone was soft.

I glanced back at him and wished I could see his expression behind the shield of his sunglasses.

“Go on, it’s worth it. Dauphine, attend,” he said past me.

I flicked my eyes back to the earnest young chef and reached out for the morsel he laid gently in my palm. I heard the chef offer a bite to Xavier, but I blacked out to everything around me the moment the flavors hit my tongue. Letting out an audible groan, I chewed, my mouth flooding with saliva. “Oh my sweet heaven,” I managed when I came to.

“Lavender honey.” Xavier’s voice was gruff. Then he bought three baguettes, two rounds of cheese, and two pots of honey before Dauphine managed to get us moving again.

I seriously hoped he was going to share his bounty with me. That was why he bought it right?

Around us people shouted out greetings and hummed with oohs and aahs, and others called out for separated friends and family members. There were colors everywhere you looked. Smells ran from melting cheese, to fish, to rotisserie chickens and fresh herbs and spices. Under foot, the uneven cobblestone streets were cast in multicolored shade from the sun beating through the awnings.

I’d never been a big social media user, but suddenly I wanted to take pictures and post everything I saw. But none of the pictures would capture the sounds and smells and the utter feast for the senses. I was in awe, and only when I looked over my shoulder and saw Xavier Pascale still following us, keeping pace, his hands stuffed stoically in his pockets, did I become self-conscious enough to realize how like a gawking tourist I must look and snapped my mouth shut.

Dauphine dragged me to several stalls where even I had to admit the dresses were gorgeous. I bought a couple of linen summer dresses at Dauphine’s urging, one in white and one in black, as well as a jade green halter neck bikini. “I’ve never bought a swimsuit without trying it on.” I grimaced, wishing at least Meredith were here to give me advice. Even Andrea. The sizes made no sense, so I held a bikini top up and fitted the strap around my chest. Dauphine grabbed the sales lady’s hand to get her attention and garbled something to her. The no nonsense sales lady gave me a look up and down, then suddenly grabbed my boobs in her hands, letting go before I could even gasp in shock. Then she grabbed me by the shoulders and whipped me around side to side and back to face her. Heat plumed along my chest and cheeks. She muttered something, sounding irritated or unimpressed, and then grabbed my hips and waist.

Dauphine giggled, her small hand covering her mouth.

“What just happened?” I managed.

“She measured you.”

“With her hands?” I whisper-squeaked.

Mr. Pascale stood loitering, dark glasses still on and phone in his free hand. For a moment I thought he hadn’t seen until I saw him sucking in his cheeks, trying really hard not to laugh.

Before I could process whether he was actually laughing at me or something on his phone, since I couldn’t see his eyes, the woman was back. She twisted me around again and nodded.

“Um,” I tried, my eyebrows practically in my hairline.

“Bon,” she said and ripped the original

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