in horror. “Who serves raw fish to pregnant women?”
A series of concerned and shrill whispers erupted from the defense.
“Your husband died, God rest his soul”—ChiChi paused to make the sign of the cross—“of a heart attack.”
“Which was brought on by too much raw fish.”
“Last I heard they fry their fish at McDonald’s.” ChiChi pointed to Lexi’s plate, adding, “And her fish isn’t raw. It’s called sashimi.”
“Actually—” Lexi began to correct ChiChi, but no one was listening. They were too busy wagging fingers at each other.
“Which is raw,” Isabel pointed out.
“It’s delicious,” Lucinda said, taking to her feet to join in the fight. Lexi doubted that the woman ever ate anything but meat—on the bone—but her support was appreciated.
“It’s cliché,” Natasha mumbled with an elegant eye roll.
“So is using your silicone wiles to land a man, dear, but pointing things like that out is rude,” Pricilla said, sweet as can be.
“Order!” Mrs. Rose slammed down the gavel so hard a piece of wood splintered off. But to Lexi’s surprise, she was the only one who jumped. Everyone else looked from the defense to the prosecution and back to the judge, waiting to see who was going to be held in contempt. Everyone except Simon, who was standing on the table and showing Mrs. Rose just how sharp his canine teeth were.
“Why don’t we let the chef explain her dish,” Marc said and, as casual as ever, leaned down and whispered, “By the way, nice shoes, cream puff,” right before he smacked her on the fanny and sent her down the aisle.
Lexi stifled a yelp, but she was already in motion heading toward the bench, suddenly happy she’d worn the shoes.
“Well, which is it, missy?” Mrs. Rose snapped, still poking at her dish when Lexi had made it to the front of the courtroom.
“Each plate has two bite-sized potato pancakes topped with asparagus mousse and a balsamic glaze, which are all locally grown and produced. The one on the right is a more traditional take, using smoked wild salmon, whereas the one on the left uses locally caught, sashimi-quality sea bass.” Lexi held up her finger to silence Isabel. “Which is raw, yes, but since I have paired traditional with the experimental, there will be something for all.”
Lexi went on to explain the rest of her menu, highlighting how each course paired the new and the old, and all used locally sourced products. When she finished she resumed her place next to Marc at the back of the room, and waited.
She waited as the judges tasted and compared, waited while they huddled around the bench and held hushed conversations about her food. She even waited through Mrs. Balldinger’s entire cell-phone slideshow of Jeffery and Sara’s honeymoon photos. Finally, Mrs. Rose tapped the mic.
The muffled sound echoed off of the plaster walls. “Quiet, please. We have reached a decision. Would the jury please rise and state their choice.”
Simon let out a low moan. The poor thing seemed to be panting as he turned toward Nate—and threw up the entire contents of his stomach.
“What the—” Nate jumped up.
Frankie praised the dog.
And Natasha stood and started clapping. “That’s one vote for me.”
“How’s that?” Lexi asked, passing Nate a roll of paper towels from her bag.
“He ate mine first and seemed fine. It wasn’t until he got to yours that his stomach rebelled.”
“It’s not like we can ask him his opinion,” Nate muttered, wiping off his lap.
Lexi was about to ask the tribunal how they had intended on weighing Simon’s vote when Mrs. Rose rapped her gavel. “Has the jury reached a decision?”
“We have, Your Honor—um, Mrs. Rose,” the mayor said, standing from the first juror’s seat. He was a tall man, with long limbs, a beaked nose, and a wiry mop of gray hair. He was also looking directly at Natasha as he made a big ordeal out of opening the results, which made Lexi’s heart drop to her toes.
“It doesn’t matter what happens here,” Marc whispered in her ear, brushing a kiss against her hair. “You’ll get your bistro.”
Lexi looked up at him and offered the best smile she could pull off. Apparently it was already one vote Natasha, Lexi zero.
“I hope so.”
“Oh, sugar, I know so.” He lightly tugged her hair, and she felt a simultaneous tug in her heart. Those simple words, spoken with so much conviction, made Lexi believe. Faith was something that she’d thought she lost in the divorce.
There were no words to explain what he’d just done for her,