Her friends applauded.
“How generous you are, Beatrice!”
“That’s what happens when you have a family restaurant,” she replied, looking at me with a smile.
The bill could easily exceed twenty thousand dollars.
Gavin came over again.
“We can still stop this.”
“No. Serve everything.”
Beatrice took over the private dining room and started behaving like the hostess. Scallops, tuna tartare, flatbreads, steaks, sauces, and the first bottles from the wine cellar began arriving.
I personally brought out one of the finest bottles.
Beatrice watched me as I filled the glasses.
“Just look at that,” she said. “The great chef also knows how to wait tables.”
Several women laughed.
“She cooks well,” one of them commented, “but she seems
so ordinary.”
Beatrice took a sip of wine.
“Camilla has always been like that. She’s great at working. That’s what you want her for.”
I tightened my grip around the bottle, but I kept smiling.