CHAPTER 29

Three weeks later, Blaze frowned at an article on ‘Vogue France’ as she stood at the kitchen table, trying to translate what she was reading.

“What does ‘caoutchouc’ mean?” she asked.

Fabien was at his workbench, adding some shading to his latest sketch.

“Usually, it means ‘rubber’ but in this context, it means ‘latex, condom’.”

“I hate asking explanations every five minutes. Even after all these years, I still find French such a difficult language to comprehend… I hate to admit that I suck so much at it,” she muttered under her breath.

“Chérie, you’re the smartest woman I know. You’ll get the hang of it. And until then, you can ask me anything you want. I’m here for you,” he said confidently.

“If you say so…” Blaze replied quite hesitant.

She’d learned all the ballet technique phrases in French because she’d been passionate about her craft, and she’d picked up enough French to get by over the years without making a fool of herself. But actually, remember