“Look, princess...”“My name is not ‘princess’. My name is Dion.”“No shit. My house, my rules.”“Like hell,” Dion retorted.It was no... like him to talk back. After the beatings he had gotten from Antoine, one would have thought he had learned his lesson well.But he was not afraid of John. It was strange to think such a thing, but since they had gotten inside John’s home and sat together at a table, he had not felt threatened, not even for a second. John looked upset, but not angered. He looked. He brought a starter of smoked salmon wrapped around a nice white cream core and a little pate with toast points for us to share. Both delicious. A little Italian Wedding soup, which I don't always care for, but it tasted good tonight. The main course was sea bass encrusted with something crisp and crunchy with asparagus and mashed (can't think of the name) with horseradish mixed in. Then a delicious apple tart with pistachio ice cream and some caramel drizzled over the top which we shared.We. More

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