The curve of Liz's lips deepened as Jen made her toast – the recitation was lovely and unexpected. She wondered vaguely if the woman had any idea how enthralling she was... beautiful and confident and well-rounded. Really, she couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening.
Well. Maybe one or two. But she certainly wasn't knocking dinner.
She tipped her glass in response to the detective, taking a sip to finish the toast. Once the wine had been set aside, she also took up her silver, talking while she cut her chicken. "A beautiful toast, Detective. I think your French is better than mine, too. You have a lovely accent. I'll admit, I was a little lazy about learning it. It wasn't all that important in my family's social circle, and I didn't consider it worthwhile at all. I suppose I should thank my mother for harping on about it, otherwise I'd be asking you to translate for me. She never considered anyone a proper lady unless they could speak decent French or if they wore a corset that let them take a full breath."