“Why’d you move back?” I piped out. “Opened a restaurant here about a year ago.” He grabbed a piece of cherry pie, shoving it into his mouth without tasting it. “Descartes.” His French accent was on point. So were my nipples, which apparently approved of his grasp of the French language. “Really? I hadn’t heard.” “The Michelin people did. Gave it three stars. The first restaurant in the state of Maine to receive the honor. Just won the James Beard Award for it, actually. Guess that levels things out.”
