just gracefully ask Monique for a bit of help and then they’ll ask me if I’d like a taste of the Dover sole. You know, just to be polite. In all of my time around Monique, one thing I’ve learned is that French people are exceedingly polite, contrary to the stereotype. I begin shuffling my feet, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch, and as I get closer and closer to the edge, I can practically taste the Dover sole on my tongue. Just as I near the edge of the stand, Monique turns to Daniel and says, “Daniel, I’d like to introduce you to Brooke Miller. She is one of my brides.”
And then I fall face-first off the stand, smack in the middle of Monique and Daniel.
How do you say “Timber!” in French? Well, that’s okay if you don’t know. It really was more of a SPLAT! than anything else and I’m pretty sure that SPLAT! is universal.
“Ah, Brooke!” Monique says, as she and Daniel both lean down to me to help me up, “are you all right? My goodness, Brooke, did the pins get you?”
“No, they didn’t.” Yes, they did. All twenty-two of them, in fact. But when you’re at your client’s office pretending to be a bride and you fall off a stand because you’re salivating over a piece of fish, you tend to lie to save face. Better late than never, I always say. “I’m okay. Absolutely fine.” Monique and Daniel have to team up to lift me together. They grab me under my armpits and raise me upright like a stiff board since I still can’t really move my legs in the dress.
“Let me just get this one for you,” Monique says, gently taking out a few of the pins that have lodged themselves into my thighs.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” I say to Daniel once I’m upright, putting my hand out for him to shake.
“You are a very lucky girl to be having your wedding dress designed by Monique,” he says, kissing the top of my hand.
“Yes, I’m very lucky,” I say, and feel an expected gush of sadness as I say it.
“Now, please,” he says, “try the Dover sole.”
With all of the tiny pin pricks still stinging on my legs, I don’t even want to try the fish anymore. I should just let Monique do her tasting quickly so that we can get back to business and start discussing our case.
Okay, I didn’t even convince myself on that one. It literally takes all of my self control not to dive right onto the plate. Daniel takes a fork and puts a bite onto it.
I take a bite and it melts in my mouth. Everything about it—the taste, the consistency—is absolutely perfect. There are so many different flavors exploding on my palate, one by one, that can only be described as deliciously complex. Now I finally know what they’re talking about on Top Chef!
“It’s perfect,” Monique says to Daniel and I nod my head in agreement. All I can think is, would it be rude to take another bite? Thankfully, Monique takes another forkful and motions for me to do the same. The second bite is just as close to pure heaven as the first one and we both let out an “Mmm!” at the same time. Daniel beams back at us.
Would it be a breach of ethics to try to get myself invited to the party tonight? After all, if I don’t get to have the gorgeous wedding dress of my dreams, I should at least get to attend the most fabulous party of the season, right? Okay, the truth is that I just can’t wait to taste all of the other courses this chef has got up his sleeve. And the hors d’oeuvres. I can only imagine what he would come up with. But that’s as good a reason as any to want to attend a party, right?
I’ll definitely start my wedding diet…tomorrow. This weekend at the latest.
“Now, we must get back to work,” Monique says as Daniel walks out of the studio. She helps me back onto the stand and then continues pinning the dress again, which I take as a cue to start discussing the case.
“Did you know about this?” I ask. “That Jean Luc would hire my old firm? You don’t seem surprised at all.”
“No, I did
And then I fall face-first off the stand, smack in the middle of Monique and Daniel.
How do you say “Timber!” in French? Well, that’s okay if you don’t know. It really was more of a SPLAT! than anything else and I’m pretty sure that SPLAT! is universal.
“Ah, Brooke!” Monique says, as she and Daniel both lean down to me to help me up, “are you all right? My goodness, Brooke, did the pins get you?”
“No, they didn’t.” Yes, they did. All twenty-two of them, in fact. But when you’re at your client’s office pretending to be a bride and you fall off a stand because you’re salivating over a piece of fish, you tend to lie to save face. Better late than never, I always say. “I’m okay. Absolutely fine.” Monique and Daniel have to team up to lift me together. They grab me under my armpits and raise me upright like a stiff board since I still can’t really move my legs in the dress.
“Let me just get this one for you,” Monique says, gently taking out a few of the pins that have lodged themselves into my thighs.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” I say to Daniel once I’m upright, putting my hand out for him to shake.
“You are a very lucky girl to be having your wedding dress designed by Monique,” he says, kissing the top of my hand.
“Yes, I’m very lucky,” I say, and feel an expected gush of sadness as I say it.
“Now, please,” he says, “try the Dover sole.”
With all of the tiny pin pricks still stinging on my legs, I don’t even want to try the fish anymore. I should just let Monique do her tasting quickly so that we can get back to business and start discussing our case.
Okay, I didn’t even convince myself on that one. It literally takes all of my self control not to dive right onto the plate. Daniel takes a fork and puts a bite onto it.
I take a bite and it melts in my mouth. Everything about it—the taste, the consistency—is absolutely perfect. There are so many different flavors exploding on my palate, one by one, that can only be described as deliciously complex. Now I finally know what they’re talking about on Top Chef!
“It’s perfect,” Monique says to Daniel and I nod my head in agreement. All I can think is, would it be rude to take another bite? Thankfully, Monique takes another forkful and motions for me to do the same. The second bite is just as close to pure heaven as the first one and we both let out an “Mmm!” at the same time. Daniel beams back at us.
Would it be a breach of ethics to try to get myself invited to the party tonight? After all, if I don’t get to have the gorgeous wedding dress of my dreams, I should at least get to attend the most fabulous party of the season, right? Okay, the truth is that I just can’t wait to taste all of the other courses this chef has got up his sleeve. And the hors d’oeuvres. I can only imagine what he would come up with. But that’s as good a reason as any to want to attend a party, right?
I’ll definitely start my wedding diet…tomorrow. This weekend at the latest.
“Now, we must get back to work,” Monique says as Daniel walks out of the studio. She helps me back onto the stand and then continues pinning the dress again, which I take as a cue to start discussing the case.
“Did you know about this?” I ask. “That Jean Luc would hire my old firm? You don’t seem surprised at all.”
“No, I did
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