Chapter 15 French Cuisine
Sephora looked like a lost fairy in the pink dress.
And now, the white gown further accentuated her ethereal beauty, taking the breath of everyone present away.
Her fair, elegant neck, delicate collarbones, and rounded shoulders were exposed thanks to the strapless design.
And the fishtail design made her slender, long legs stand out.
It wasn’t exactly an eye–catching gown, but now that it was on Sephora,
it suddenly looked like a one–million–dollar piece.
After a few seconds, the shop assistants snapped back to reality.
“Ma’am, this is definitely your dress.”
“You look amazing!”
“It’s never looked so great on anyone besides you. You’re so beautiful!”
Their praises filled the air, which annoyed Bridgette greatly, but she kept her expression flawlessly neutral.
In fact, like everyone else, she was stunned when Sephora appeared. But she’d never admit Sephora’s beauty, and others‘ praises of Sephora only deepened the hatred in her heart.
She thought, “Go out and see the world, you bumpkins. A countryside girl can actually impress you this much? Gosh.”
Chapter 15 French Cuisine
Before Sephora walked out, Christine was sulky because Sephora turned down the pink dress.
But her sullenness vanished when she saw Sephora in the white gown and the admiring gazes of everyone present.
Her eyes were filled with amazement and pride.
She wanted to announce loudly–yes, that was my daughter!
Even Sephora was shocked when she saw herself in the mirror. She was perfect!
Noticing the satisfied smile on Christine’s face, Bridgette was even more upset.
To her, she was the daughter who made Christine the proudest.
She’d never let Sephora, the girl who grew up in a small town, overshadow her.
If Sephora attended the party in this white gown, she’d definitely be the center of attention.
Bridgette would never let that happen. She was determined to be the person who amazed everyone.
“Sephora, I think the pink one suits you better,” she said.
Sephora arched an eyebrow slightly.
“Really?”
She knew exactly what Bridgette was planning–Bridgette wanted her to go with the pink one. But she’d never let Bridgette have her way.
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Chapter 15 French Cusine
Hearing Sephora’s response, Bridgette thought her comment worked and continued quickly, “Indeed. Pink makes your complexion fairer.
“But that white one? The design is too simple to make you shine.”
Sephora said, “But I like the white one better.”
“Sephora, you’ve lived in that small town for years and know nothing about city people’s taste. Trust me on this.”
The shop assistants couldn’t help but roll their eyes at Bridgette’s words.
They dealt with socialites every day and were all shrewd enough to‘ know what Bridgette meant by saying this.
However, despite their resentment, they remained silent because it was none of their business.
“Your taste? Gosh, no,” Sephora said bluntly.
Bridgette choked up on her words. Only then did she realize Sephora had played her. Sephora had never been interested in her opinion in the first place.
Seething with rage, she thought, “Sephora, don’t blame me for not reminding you earlier.”
A vicious glint flashed across her eyes and vanished in less than a second.
“Mom, I’ll have the white one.”
Sephora turned to Christine, who was sitting next to Bridgette.
Chapter 15 French Cusine
Christine beamed. “Alright.”
Then Sephora went back to the fitting room and changed into her own.
clothes.
“Wrap up the white one for us. Thanks,” seeing her, Christine said to a shop assistant.
“OK, Ma’am. Come this way to pay.”
The two dresses cost Christine 8,000 dollars. Her heart bled, but she paid without hesitation.
It was lunchtime when they walked out of the store, and they decided to find a restaurant to eat.
It was a bustling commercial street with boutiques, jewelry stores, and high–end restaurants on both sides.
Soon, they saw a French restaurant, and Bridgette’s eyes lit up.
She wanted to embarrass Sephora.
To her, Sephora, a small–town girl, had never had French cuisine before–Sephora probably didn’t even know how to use a knife and
fork.
She gloated as Sephora’s uneasy look emerged in her mind.
Sephora happened to notice the wicked smile on Bridgette’s face, and she was interested in knowing what Bridgette was up to this time.
“Sephie, do you wanna eat here?”
Like Bridgette, Christine also presumed Sephora had never had French
Chapter 15 French Cuisine
cuisine before, so she asked for Sephora’s opinion.
“Let’s eat here, Mom. Sephora is back, and she’s gonna try French cuisine someday.”
Worried that Christine’s consideration might ruin her plan, Bridgette quickly beat Sephora to it.
Christine figured that Bridgette had a point. She looked at Sephora, who didn’t seem unwilling.
The three of them walked into the French restaurant with splendid decorations, looking grand.
There was a piano in the middle, and a woman in a gown was playing Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata“. The melodious music added a touch of refinement to the restaurant’s atmosphere.
They sat at a table next to the window. Just as they sat down, a waiter approached with menus.
“Greetings, ladies. What would you like to order?” he said while handing them the menus.
Bridgette took one and started to order.
“Three steaks, two medium–well and one well–done.
“One sole meunière, one fruit and vegetable salad, and one French
onion soup.
