Chapter 26

The head chef, borrowed from a three-Michelin-star restaurant in Hong Kong, specialized in French-Chinese fusion cuisine. As soon as Winnie and Van were seated, he emerged from the kitchen to personally introduce the intricacies of the menu. "For the cold appetizer, we've prepared white wine and herb-infused mussels. The hot starter is mango and red wine-poached pear with seared foie gras—a unique combination of flavors. The soup is a refreshing double-boiled chicken consommé with matsutake mushrooms and bamboo pith. The bamboo pith is sourced directly from Chaoshan, Guangdong, and has a crisp, fresh texture that complements the broth." Winnie listened attentively, following along as he described each dish. "Our main course consists of eight dishes in total. The entrée is a baked Wagyu rice with black truffle. For dessert, we've prepared dark chocolate with pineapple compote. If you have any dietary restrictions or allergies, please let me know." Finally, the chef smiled with a touch of polite humor. "After all, these are just a few of the dishes I specialize in." As a celebrity, Winnie had frequented many high-end establishments and undergone etiquette training, so she felt completely at ease. With poise and grace, she expressed her excitement and assured the chef that she had no dietary restrictions. "Based on the ingredients and flavors of today's menu, I've selected six wines for you. You may mix and match, or pair one with the pre-dinner course, the meat entrée, the seafood entrée, and the dessert," the chef suggested. "I'll have a sweet sparkling wine," Winnie said, closing the menu. "That will be all." Though the chef said nothing, his expression revealed a hint of disappointment. Sweet sparkling wine isn't exactly considered a serious pairing for a fine meal—at least, not for the kind of refined guests who visit establishments like this, those who carry themselves with elegance and have an encyclopedic knowledge of spices and flavors. Van crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed yet upright as he leaned against the back of his chair. His eyes lowered briefly to glance at the menu before nodding to the chef. "Let's go with Miss Loxley's preference." Since the young master was willing to accommodate, the chef naturally had no objections. Once he stepped away, Eric escorted Yulia to a private dining room nearby, leaving the expansive restaurant to just the two of them. Behind a folding screen, the faint silhouette of a waiter remained visible, ready to attend to their needs. The sweet sparkling wine chilled in an ice bucket, and after being opened, it was allowed to breathe briefly before serving. Its body was light and airy. Van took a sip, then smiled faintly. "Niñita," he remarked. The word was in Spanish, and Winnie didn't quite catch its meaning. "What?" she asked. Van translated in English, "It means ‘little girl.'" Winnie realized he was teasing her, poking fun at her fondness for a wine he deemed girlish. With deliberate precision, she mimicked his Spanish, "Niñita." Her pronunciation was imperfect, full of the awkward charm typical of a beginner. "It's such a cute word," Winnie murmured, repeating it to herself twice more. She didn't realize that her soft, thoughtful repetition had an effect on Van, who found her endearing in that unguarded moment. Winnie placed her knife and fork neatly on her plate, then gracefully picked up a white napkin to dab her lips. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she gazed at Van, her lips curving upward in a smile. She asked with curiosity, "Why do you speak Spanish?" Van glanced at her briefly, memories of his childhood flashing through his mind—days spent living with his Spanish-speaking grandmother, who used to call his name affectionately in her native tongue. A trace of warmth flickered across his expression as he recalled those moments. Winnie noticed the shift in his demeanor but chose not to press further. Instead, she eagerly continued her inquiry into Spanish. "I also wanted to ask Mr. Marlowe," she began, her tone polite yet tinged with girlish excitement, "how do you pronounce 'distinguido'?" Van obliged, pronouncing the phrase in perfect Spanish. "That sounds beautiful," Winnie said softly, attempting to mimic him. Her head tilted slightly downward, and her eyes, enhanced by light makeup, shimmered with elegance. "distinguido, distinguido" she repeated, savoring the words. "Do you know what it means?" Van asked, his tone curious. Winnie lifted her gaze, her voice and breath delicate. "Yes, I do." Van, his hands resting on his crossed knees, gave a slight nod and invited her to explain. Winnie's eyes met his directly, looking past the table with an unwavering focus that seemed to correct the fleeting, mistaken glance they had shared amidst the crowd at the wedding banquet. "It means refined and graceful, noble and outstanding," she said, her voice steady and clear.