Geraldine's smile was the only one in the dining room during the breakfast service. Josephine sat at the head of the table underdressed in only a white slip and black smoking jacket, its lush collar pulled up high around her neck. Her hair, loose and tousled from sleep, had been tied in a round bun at the base of her head just above the collar's lip. She smoked a cigarette from a long, white bone cigarette holder as she sipped orange juice from a polished chalice.

Calvin, equally underdressed in a black paisley dressing gown, sat directly across from Josephine. A hardboiled egg and a crust of double baked bread sat neatly arranged and untouched on a plate between Calvin's fists. Leonide and Maxine, sitting at the sides of the table, ate with their heads down, the only sound in the airy space coming from their silverware dragging against their plates.

Josephine watched Calvin with great satisfaction. Every inhale of smoke was another gust of heat to the flame smouldering in her belly. Calvin's eyes were down, his handsome features tainted with a dark mixture of submissiveness and resentment. The fine beads of sweat gathered on his brow caught the bright sunlight like crystals on his skin. Josephine took immense pleasure in the wounded animal before her.

"These eggs are absolutely delicious," Leonide said, pinching his index finger and thumb together. He turned to Josephine. "May I ask if you get them from your own chickens?"

"Yes," Josephine gestured out the back door. "We have a barn, we have many animals. Our chickens are especially precious."

Calvin lifted his gaze to watch Josephine speak to Leonide. Her emerald eyes looked soft now, almost kind. He fixated on her mouth as she described the animals she had, his attention focused on the way her rouged lips wrapped around each accented word. Her sandy voice lowered as she leaned in to Leonide's bubble of space. Leonide seemed surprised at her sudden closeness but he too leaned towards her. Josephine tapped her cigarette twice, the bone holder producing two sharp clicks against the marble ashtray. Leonide's face blossomed as Josephine whispered to him. He pulled away from her to throw his head back in amusement, a thunderous laugh filling the air above his head. Josephine withdrew to her seat; her throne. Her eyes met Calvin's with beguiling intensity. He felt paralyzed by her as she brought her cigarette holder to her lips to draw in a slow inhale. His fingernails dug into his sweaty palms as she exhaled two columns of smoke from her nostrils.

"Would you be kind enough to share whatever gossip you're enjoying with the rest of the table?" Calvin asked, raising his hand in invitation.

Josephine shook her head.

"Well," Calvin dropped his hand to the table hard enough to make each plate, fork, and glass on its surface jump.

Leonide shifted in his seat. "Madame Josephine just told me about one of her horses."

"Horses?" Calvin's brows raised.

"Yes," Leonide answered. "She has a stable."

"Oh," his lips tightened into a bitter smile. "How lovely."

"She offered to take us on a tour of her grounds after we finish this divine breakfast."

"I was presented with no such invitation."

Josephine gestured to Geraldine. The woman crossed the dining room and bent over so Josephine could whisper in her ear. Their closeness made Calvin's blood pressure rise; the sight was vulgar. Geraldine's round lips curled into a knowing smile. She nodded with a deep bow of her head before leaving the dining room.

"Have you excused your negress to fetch a horse?" Calvin barked.

"Perhaps I should have sent her to bring me the whip I use to train my studs," she pursed her lips with dissatisfaction. "I was unaware I had a bronco at my table."

Calvin's nostrils flared as his temples rippled with anger. The back of his neck felt hot and wet with embarrassment. He ripped the napkin from his lap and shot up from his seat. Josephine raised her hand to turn Calvin's attention to Geraldine as she walked up to Calvin holding a silver platter with a folded card sat atop a square cushion.

"What is this?" Calvin demanded.

"For you, Mister Candie," Geraldine answered.

Calvin plucked the card off the cushion and opened it, eyes scanning over the fine black script. "An invitation to see the grounds," he smiled sardonically. "What do you know, a nigger who can write."

He slammed the card down on the tray in place of flipping it out of Geraldine's hands. She bowed her head to him and backed out of the room.

Josephine rested her cigarette holder against the side of the ashtray to fold her hands on the edge of the table. "Do you accept my invitation?"

Calvin scoffed.

"Good," she said. Her green eyes flashed black as she rose from her seat. "We will tour my grounds together. I will show you the stable where I keep my broncos, Monsieur Candie."