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“Also French.”

“This one with the little mark over the e?”

“Still French.”

Sage set the menu down. “Can I just get a cheeseburger?”

The server, who had appeared silently and with impeccable timing, didn’t even blink. “Of course. How would you like it cooked?”

“Like… a cheeseburger.”

“Medium it is.”

Annie leaned over to Sage as the server glided away. “I also got the cheeseburger.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“I got the duck,” Isabelle said.

“I got the salmon,” Mary Sue said. She paused. “I don’t even like salmon. But it was the only thing I recognized.”

Sage stared at her. “You could have gotten the cheeseburger.”

“I’m not paying this many dollars for a cheeseburger.”

“Isabelle is paying⁠—”

“That is not the point.”

The cheeseburgers arrived and were, objectively, the best cheeseburgers any of them had ever eaten. Sage announced this loudly and without shame, juices dripping down her fingers, while Isabelle ate her duck with quiet dignity and Mary Sue discovered she actually did like salmon — though she kept stealing Annie’s fries when she thought no one was looking.

Everyone was looking.

No one said anything.

“So,” Sage said, mouth still mostly full, “what’s next?”

Isabelle smiled. Diabolically.

Sage stopped chewing.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Salon.”

“Oh that’s fine, I love the salon⁠—”

“And waxing.”

Sage put down her cheeseburger.

“…waxing.”

“Full service.”

“Isabelle. When you say full service.”

“I mean full.”