The Prince's Secret Baby (A Baby for the Prince Book 1)(2)

The ma?tre d’ sat him at a comfortable table in the corner, a spot from which he could see all the action, but had privacy. Raffaele appreciated the buzz of the restaurant as he glanced over the stylish menu she handed him.

“Your server will be here momentarily. Please do let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Raffaele’s server was a young man with bright red hair and a genial smile. He approached the table after giving Raffaele a minute to look over the menu.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to BienVille.” He picked up a glass bottle. “We have our made-in-house sparkling water, or I can bring your preferred choice of water.”

“Sparkling water will be fine, thank you.”

The server poured the water into a tall glass and set it on the table. “Would you like to hear the specials, or would you prefer to order a drink first?”

“The specials, please. I’ll order wine with dinner.”

“Excellent. Chef Bechet has prepared a muffuletta salad, which is a deconstructed take on a traditional muffuletta, an oyster pie, and a duck gumbo with andouille sausage. In addition, we are offering a Mardi Gras tasting menu tonight which includes each of those dishes along with a few other treats from the chef.”

“The tasting menu.”

Raffaele snapped the menu shut and his server grinned.

“Definitely the right choice. The specials are too good to pick just one.” The young man went back to his more polished presentation. “Our sommelier has paired each of the dishes with wine, or I can send him over if you’d like to order a bottle.”

“The wine pairing, please.”

Raffaele got another approving grin from his server.

“Excellent, sir.”

Raffaele watched the rest of the room from his perch, impressed both with the décor and the way the servers moved through the room. So many restaurants focused only on the food, forgetting that the best meals were feasts for all the senses.

His server returned quickly with a small, bright orange glass with a tiny curved handle on the side.

“An amuse-bouche from the chef, sir. Her crawfish bisque.”

He also placed a wine glass on the table and poured a white wine from a carafe into the glass.

“Please enjoy, sir.”

Raffaele was delighted by the small glass of bisque. And, with every subsequent dish, he grew more enamored with Chef Bechet’s cooking.

He took his time eating, savoring the amazing taste and texture of each dish. He chatted with his young server, asking him what it was like to work in the restaurant business, and if there was anything else in New Orleans he shouldn’t miss.

Brian, his server, poured the dessert wine and set down a plate with a trio of delicacies: a fruit-filled crêpe, a mini pecan pie, and a bright sliver of king cake.

Before Brian left, Raffaele asked, “Would it be possible for me to speak with the chef for a moment? I don’t want to take too much of her time, but I’d appreciate the opportunity to compliment her in person.”

Brian nodded. “I’ll be happy to check. Since we’re nearing the end of service, she may have a moment.”

A few minutes later, a petite woman in chef’s whites approached the table. Her hair was pulled back, but wispy tendrils of dark brown hair escaped to frame her lovely face, and Raffaele realized as she stopped by the table that she had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. He was almost too stunned to speak, but she smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

Raffaele hadn’t expected the chef to be this beautiful or this young. He thought she might even be younger than he was by a couple of years. He stood and gave her a small bow.

“Chef Bechet, please accept my most sincere compliments. Your food is exquisite and your restaurant is a gem in this lovely city.”

“Thank you. Please, call me Maggie,” she said amicably, and Raffaele could tell she was pleased by his compliment.

Raffaele gestured to the other end of the table. “Would you have a moment to join me?”

He could tell she was a little uncertain, but still, she sat down. He searched his normally charming brain for the right question to ask.

“How long have you been cooking?”

She smiled brilliantly. “Since I was sixteen. I worked for my parents first, although they didn’t let me do much more than peel and chop carrots and onions for the first few years.”

He grinned. “I take it you proved your worth eventually?”

Maggie nodded.

“I went away to culinary school with their blessing, and when they decided to retire three years ago, I came back to take over the restaurant. But even when I came home for school vacations, I always seemed to end up here.”

Raffaele gave her an understanding look. “Home has a way of drawing you back, doesn’t it?”

“Sometimes a little too much. But I love the city, and I love this place.” She looked fondly around the room. “May I ask what your favorite dish was tonight?”

Raffaele leaned forward. “If I’m being honest…” She nodded, waiting for his critique. “All of them,” he said. “Each of them had something special, something unique. And taken together, it was truly an amazing meal.”

He thought about it. “I think my favorite element was how you elevated simple flavors to something extraordinary. You work with local farmers, don’t you?”