Bab 66: Wine & Sob Stories

Daphne's words sent Atticus's mood plummeting faster than any cooking disaster. The kitchen was now filled with the delicious aroma of simple home cooking, but the air was thick with tension as Daphne glared at Atticus with barely concealed venom. 

The blunt butter knife she was holding looked like a lethal weapon in her hands. Atticus gulped and slowly took a step back, hoping not to anger her further. This dinner date hadn't even started, but it was off to a terrible start. 

Perhaps he should have taken Sirona's advice and got the chefs to make something instead. At least like this, Daphne wouldn't be allowed in the kitchen, where she had access to a multitude of knives and other sharp objects.

"I wouldn't do that," Atticus tried to explain himself. "You're important to me. Can we start over? Like we did for this meal?"