Thinking she caught a bit of discomfort in the question - and only because she'd asked the same question at one or two galas in her time in Paris - Beauty gave Abraham a warm and reassuring look. "You were the last I was waiting for," she answered in the same language, as softly as she could manage. She didn't want to offend her other guests by speaking her native tongue but neither would she offend Abraham by switching to something else. Then... If he thought that their words were unrecognized in French, he'd be wrong. Logan also spoke French. Logan.
She glanced over at him again, then back at Abraham quickly.
"I didn't know what you might like to eat," she confessed. "So I made everything I could think of!"
And indeed, it looked like she had. The next plates she passed around were at one point vegetables, now scalloped, whipped, or otherwise arrayed in such a way as to be more than just that. Ah, French cooking!