"Why, we met in school. In Paris. It must be now thirty years ago; and you, Monsieur Ross, how long have you known my friend?"
"Not that long. I'm afraid we've just met, but I feel as if I've known her all my life."
Josie returned with the coffee pot and refilled his cup. "I know how you feel, ami. Allie has that effect on people, at least to those she wants to know better, and those are very few, indeed." Before she turned back to the stove, she gave him a shrewd assessment, although her gaze appeared almost maternal. "She must like you a lot, Ross. I can tell by the way she looks at you. Allie smiles now because you are in her life."
Trying not to blush, he said nothing more as he sipped his coffee. Josie went back to her preparations, and soon the kitchen filled with the heady odor of frying bacon. She whistled a little tune as she whipped eggs in a bowl with heavy cream and fresh herbs.