Chapter 16 A Taste Of Morning

• Élise woke to the city turning pale with dawn. The penthouse usually felt too large in the mornings;a clean, echoing space of glass and marble that had a way of making small things feel lost,but today she moved through it with a purpose.
• She told herself she was doing this because the house needed it, that she was cooking because habit calmed her. The truth was simpler: she wanted to make something small and ordinary for the man whose world had just let her in.
• She found the brioche in the pantry, a day old but perfectly serviceable. Her fingers worked the way they always had in kitchens;automatic and efficient. Eggs into a bowl, a splash of cream, a pinch of cinnamon, a scrape of orange zest because her mother used to say citrus brightened everything. She beat the mixture until it held together like a promise, then soaked the slices of brioche until they drank the custard and softened at the edges.