Shirley pulled out her phone, ready to call Effie, but just then, her coworker


    brushed past her and headed straight in Effie''s direction.


    A jolt of panic ran through Shirley. She hurried after her colleague, only to see her


    stop in front of a gift shop, eyes wide with excitement. "Oh wow, I can''t believe I almost forgot today''s theunch day for the new collection! Good thing I remembered to line up."


    Relief flooded Shirley, but her attention was quickly caught by the disy of mystery boxes from the new series.


    Her excitement bubbled over. "Oh wow, the new collection!"


    At that moment, Effie answered her phone. Hearing Shirley''s enthusiasm, she assumed Shirley had called just to tell her about the new release.


    "Yeah, I already know," Effie replied.


    But before Effie could say more, Shirley''s voice came through the phone again: "Hold on a sec-your thing with your husband nearly got spotted. We''re both right by the gift shop."


    Shirley hadn''t named names, but Effie understood instantly.


    A sh of rm crossed her face as she nced back. Sure enough, she caught sight of Shirley and another coworker nearby.


    Effie quickly pulled her hand from Lyman''s grasp.


    Lyman blinked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. "What''s wrong?"


    Effie whispered urgently, "Let''s go. We almost got caught by my colleagues."


    Lyman couldn''t help butugh, shaking his head. "You know, we could just go public."


    Effie shook her head firmly. "No way. I don''t want everyone thinking I only got my position here because of you. I want to prove myself on my own terms, alright?"


    Lyman gave her a resigned, affectionate smile. "Alright, alright."


    The two of them hurried out of the mall and made their way to a nearby restaurant.


    It was a French ce, tucked unexpectedly among residential buildings. As soon as they stepped inside, soft piano music floated through the air, and the whole ce radiated Parisian charm-pate green waffs, ornate ster moldings, and an elegance you couldn''t fake.


    Effie was taken aback. "If you hadn''t brought me here, I''d never have guessed


    there was a French restaurant hiding in this neighborhood."


    From the outside, it looked so ordinary-who would''ve thought there was this little winter oasis inside?


    "Lyman, you''re here! And this is...?"


    A tall man


    with chestnut hair,


    striking features, and an easy confidence, strode out from the kitchen. Even with a few silver


    strands at his temples, it was easy


    to imagine how handsome he must have been in his youth.


    The chef''s eyes lit up when he saw Effie. "Aren''t you going to introduce us?"


    Lyman smiled. "This is my wife, Effie."


    Angelo-known to everyone as


    Beardman nced at Effie, clearly impressed, but he kept his


    excitement in check. He offered her a hand with a warm grin. "Pleasure to meet you. I''m Angelo, but most folks call me Beardman."


    Effie felt a little thrown. Angelo looked every inch the European chef, but his English was so fluent and unented that for a moment, she wondered if he''d grown up locally.


    "Nice to meet you,” she replied, shaking his hand with quiet confidence.


    Angelo nodded. "You two picked the perfect time. Samantha and I just got back to town-otherwise, it might''ve been a while before you could taste my cooking again."