Chapter Thirteen
Ashleigh
Three dances later we end up tucked into the corner of the ballroom, claiming an entire ten-seat table to ourselves while everyone mills around the center, finally deigning to dance. Two gold-plated appetizer plates are piled high with asparagus and prosciutto and crab puffs. We’re seated right outside the kitchen, and we’ve been using the waiters who leave as our personal buffet.
A meatball and pale liquid look rather plain in an elaborate soup spoon. I tilt my head back and pour it into my mouth. Spices and savory flavor explode on my tongue. There’s cumin and pepper—and God, that broth. Definitely fresh ginger.
Immediately I eye the soup spoon that Sutton snagged, and he laughs, handing it over to me. I eat it ravenously, as if I haven’t eaten in days, inst
