Galette is meant to be shared

Andre mournfully walked back to his limo, where his impatient daughter glared at his empty hands.

Chloé: what’s the point in being mayor if your own subjects don’t respect your wishes? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

Andre: forgive me, Chloé. But there are other bakeries in the city.

Chloé: none of them are the best. Anybody who’s anybody is eating a galette made by Dupain-Cheng. XY, Clara, Prince Ali….I refuse to be the exception.

Except it seemed that pretty much all the galettes Chloé coveted were already eaten (by Tikki)

Father and daughter entered the hotel in a dismal mood.

Audrey was already complaining when they crossed the threshold, not noticing their empty hands. “I don’t know about having galette. They leave such a mess.”

Chloé’s mood brightened. “You’re right mother. We don’t need a galette like everybody else does. The Bourgeois are not trend followers, they’re trend setters.

Audrey: exactly. I’d rather have a mousse today. Jean-Pierre!

Andre sighed.

Zoe: actually I bought a galette early this morning, if you would like some. I had prepaid and reserved one in advance just in case.

Chloe: haven’t you learned anything. Anything baked by a Dupain-Cheng is trash.

Andre gaped at his daughter.

Perhaps it was a combination of sympathy for Zoe and frustration with Chloe’s ingratitude, but Andre declared, “I’ll eat it with you, Zoe.” Then to prevent another outburst. “As mayor, I have to be seen celebrating this day.”

Chloé started to yell, “Ridiculous-“

“Chloé, quit yelling,” Audrey snapped. “I refuse to have my holiday ruined by you. Galette, mousse, just pick one and shut up.”

Chloe shut up her mouth, scowling at Zoe, who smiled weakly.

So while Andre and Zoe retired to her room to share the galette, happy to enjoy their holiday without any more fussy demands or cruel words, Audrey and Chloe dined on their mousse in tranquil silence.