“What do you think?” he said without preamble. “I can sell these for a nice profit.”
“Very nice. But... is there a big demand forJet Skisin Champagne?” Rosalyn asked, racking her brain for bodies of water in the area. As far as she knew, Jet Skis were used on the ocean, and the ocean was a long way from landlocked Champagne.
The rain had died down but the wind was picking up, and the afternoon sky was an ominous slate gray. Rosalyn was clad in three layers of clothes under her parka, but still shivered. Gaspard, in contrast, wore a flannel shirt over a T-shirt, jeans, and boots, and didn’t seem to notice the cold.
“Not so much, no. But also absolutelynosupply, so I’m golden on that score.” He leapt off the trailer and kissed her once on each cheek. He smelled of tobacco. “You must be the lovely Rosalyn Acosta. I am Gaspard Blé, at your service.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Rosalyn. “I appreciate being able to stay in yourgîte. It’s very comfortable.”
“I’m glad. You’re the first guest. I had another place, but we wanted to step up the facilities to accommodate American tourists. We want to lure them away from the big cities, into small villages like Cochet. Be sure to tell Blondine about anything you don’t like; you’ll be doing us a favor.”
“I will. Thank you.”
He started rearranging some boxes on the trailer.
“That’s nothing,” said Blondine, joining them. She looked cold in a lightweight jacket and short skirt, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “You should see his warehouse. It’s full of all sorts of crap.”
“Hey, that’s your inheritance, young lady. I’m having a sale next Saturday. Should make a pretty penny.”
“You import items for sale?” Rosalyn asked. “And here I thought you were a winemaker.”
“I am a man of many talents, and vision.”
“Did you drive straight through?” Blondine asked. “What time did you leave Tarragona?”
“This morning.”
“It’s a twelve-hour drive.”
He flashed a jaunty grin. “Veryearly this morning. And we were up late last night, celebrating our last night in Spain. So Epiphany had better be good! Now”—he rubbed his hands together—“when’sapéro? Kings’ dinner tonight, right? Because the king, he has arrived.”
Gaspard patted himself on the chest and gave Rosalyn a wink. Blondine rolled her eyes.
?The storm arrived in earnest before evening, but though the air felt frigid, it didn’t snow. Instead, wind blew black branches into violent tangles, rattling the windowpanes, and the rain fell in sheets. André waited for Rosalyn by the door with an umbrella, which was caught by the wind and turned inside out by the time they dashed the twenty feet to the loading dock door and let themselves in, shaking off as much of the water as they could.
“Quite a storm,” said André, staring at his ruined umbrella.
“Indeed,” said Rosalyn. “Very dramatic. Sorry about your umbrella.”
“Plenty more where that came from.”
They found Blondine in the kitchen, unpacking groceries from what looked like half a dozen tote bags. Emma was seated on her usual stool, opening a bottle of champagne. The cork left the bottlewith the muffledsnickof a practiced hand—a connoisseur of champagne, Rosalyn had learned, never opened the bottle with the dramaticpopso common to celebrations back home. It wasted too much of the precious bubbly.
“May I help?” Rosalyn asked Blondine as she moved toward the kitchen.
“There’s a lot to do,” mumbled Blondine.
“And she’s running late, as usual,” said Emma with a smile. “No worries, Blondine. We’ll wait. We have champagne, after all.”
Rosalyn found an apron in the closet and tied it on over the outfit she had worn for the special occasion. Unsure how fancy Epiphany dinners were, she had upgraded from her usual jeans and sweater to a knit wrap dress and nice leather boots.
“What can I do?” she asked Blondine. “I’ve worked in restaurants for years.”
“Vraiment?”Blondine asked.
“Mostly I served cocktails. But I know my way around a kitchen well enough. I’ll be your sous chef.”
“You’ll save my life,” said Blondine. She explained the evening’s menu: it began withapéroof petite crab brioches and slivers of dried salami. Dinner was a leg of lamb—gigot d’agneau—in wine and onion sauce,bouchée à la reine, and potatoesau vapeur, followed by a green salad with mustard-shallot dressing. Dominique was bringing dessert.
