A Work of Art, Fiction
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A Work of Art, Chapter 8

They had reserved a table for three at Chez Matthieu, one of the newest French Fusion restaurants in the neighborhood. Reservations had to be made at least a week in advance, and Matthieu didn’t care if you were the Queen of England or a fabulous queen of the neighborhood. Patrons were never pushed out to make space for others, and they could stay for as long as they wanted, until closing time. Matthieu’s fans who had been to France said it was like being in France. You couldn’t ask for substitutions in the menu, which was short enough to limit your indecision.

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