“How are you going with that?” Luke asked, breaking her train of thought.
Looking from the small pastry to Luke and back again, Sylvie made a confused face and hummed in question, hoping he would elaborate.
“You’re looking at it like it’s been bullying you,” he said with a smile.
“Oh, no, I was just thinking about something.” She shook her head and took a bite of the small pineapple tartlet. The burst of flavor was surprisingly intense, and she closed her eyes to savor it. “Oh, wow. That is phenomenal.”
It was remarkable how it managed to be sweet and sour at the same time. The pastry, too, was tasty and light enough to add flavor and texture without being soggy in the slightest.
“Wow,” she repeated. “Sorry, I just can’t get over the flavor.”
The tour guide stepped up to them. “If you would like to learn, the chef here has a masterclass. You can buy a ticket through me.”
Sylvie’s eyes lit up. “Yes! When is it?”
“Next one? Saturday. Shall I book you both?”
Her heart sank. She sighed and shook her head. “No, that’s all right. That’s the day after I leave. But maybe you want to?”
She turned to Luke, who also shook his head. “The chef would prefer I don’t attend. My cooking skills would offend, and I might accidentally set fire to something.”
Without missing a beat, the guide shifted tactics. “Well then, perhaps you prefer the recipe book we’ve created just for this tour. Each vendor has provided a few recipes, and Martin was bullied long and hard to include the pineapple tart.”
Sylvie knew she was being upsold, but was it really upselling if she wanted the book? Either way, she didn’t care. “Oh, that would be amazing. Are the accras from the first stop in there, too? I think, other than this, those were my favorite.”
With a curt nod, the guide slid her hand into her tote and produced what was clearly a home-printed booklet held together with a plastic binding spine. “Cash or card?”
“Card,” Luke said, reaching for his wallet.
“That’s all right, I can—”
“No, let me.” He waved her off. “You wanted to do the cooking class, and my ability to burn a boiled egg nixed that, so you can at least let me facilitate you cooking something in the future.” The small smile he flashed her, combined with his self-deprecating tone, melted what little resolve she had.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “But you really didn’t need to. It’s very kind of you, so thank you.”
Once he had paid, the guide pocketed the card reader and clicked her tongue. “American men get away with doing the bare minimum. If my man did not pay for a gift as small as this on a date, he would not remain my man.”
Immediately blushing, Sylvie and Luke looked at each other in surprise.
“Oh, no! Not a date!” she exclaimed. “Not at all.”
“We aren’t—um, like that,” Luke said. “A long time ago, but not now. Now, we’re friends. Old friends.”
The guide looked from one blushing face to the other, raising a single eyebrow. “Right, sure. Well, either way, you enjoy that cookbook. And thank you for coming. Please feel free to order something and stay a while. The ten percent group discount applies until midnight,” she added before smiling and turning to another tourist.
Luke stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Did you want to get dinner here? Or, more like a light supper, I guess. With all the food we’ve already had, I can’t imagine eating a full meal.”
“Me neither,” Sylvie replied, looking away and trying to will her face to return to a normal color. “They have a small sharing menu.”
She signaled to a small table near the bar and moved toward it as soon as Luke nodded. On the way, she grabbed two paper menus stacked near the bar and handed one to him while taking her seat, lifting her own menu like a shield to hide her still-pink cheeks.
“We could do the mini boudin créole?” she suggested. “And I’d love more of the lambis.” Peeking over the top of the menu, she saw Luke frown slightly and had to fight a giggle.
“Those were the snails, right?” he asked, hesitating.
“Uh-huh,” Sylvie replied, waiting for him to wriggle out of it.
“Well, if you want it, then order it. But in that case, I’ll get a plate of that curry you didn’t love, and you can just have the snails all to yourself.”
