69. Isabel
Sisters Reine and Sabine took over baking the bread since I was running behind making breakfast. Poached eggs, toasted brioche and fried tomatoes, eleven plates of food for the sisters and me.
And then I was considering adding a twelfth plate. Roman looked like he could use a good meal, and being nice wasn’t a crime. And it would be the perfect opportunity to tell him Bon appétit! Now please leave Chatoise. Today.
The only question now was whether taking him the plate of food might give him any ideas. Because feeding him was an act of kindness and not an invitation to ravish me until dawn. Even if that was all I could think about.
“Isabel! Le toast est en train de burler!” Sister Sabine called out.
Sure enough 4 pieces of toasted brioche had burned and I had to redo them and also stave off the questioning looks Sister Reine and Sabine were casting my way. They weren’t used to me so absent-minded. Wait till they found out why, which I hoped they never would.
Finally, when the food was plated, the two sisters carried them to the dining room and I was left staring at the twelfth plate and piling up some courage to cross the few yards to Monsieur Gabbart’s place and give Roman his breakfast. The food was getting cold and there was nothing like cold icky breakfast, so it was now or never.
This time I kept my apron on so there could be no misunderstanding about me being there to provide food and nothing else. That was what I did. Provide nourishment as an act of kindness.
I knocked brusquely on Roman’s door. And my fingers were still hurting from knocking so hard when the door was yanked open. Roman stood there, devastatingly handsome and, thank the dear Lord, fully dressed this time. “Isabel,” he said in that voice of his and I couldn’t help but think about what he did in the shower and who he was thinking of while doing it.
It was a mistake coming here again. God help me.
Again, words escaped me, and all I could do was shove the plate of food at him and mumble something incoherentl about breakfast and bon appétit! Only when I darted back into the abbey’s kitchen did I realize I never told Roman he needed to leave Chatoise. Today.