Sugar

As an exclamation point to my euphoria, I just wanted to hear Kai’s voice. Fumbling for my phone in my bag, I stopped outside the restaurant and lowered myself to a bench nestled between two lush planters filled with mutant coleus and pink impatiens. I pulled up Kai’s number but decided to text. No need to wake him with a phone call, especially since he was due to get up in a matter of hours to open Howie’s. But I could text him that I was thinking about him and let that be the first thing he saw in the morning.

Me: I know you’re asleep and probably all warm and drooly right now, but I want you to know I’m thinking about you and the way you get superscratchy with whiskers by the end of a day. I like the whiskers. And you.



I paused, thumbs hovering above the phone. The cool, damp air made me shiver more deeply into my cardigan.

Me: Sleep well. I’ll try calling tomorrow?



I was still sitting on the bench, feeling regret that I had stopped moving and would therefore have to resume moving if I were to get home, when the phone rang and made me jump high enough to send my bag in an arc off my lap and onto the ground.

“Kai!” I said, breathless with adrenaline. “I’m so sorry. Did my text wake you?”

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice rumbling a few notes below normal. “It’s good to hear from you, even at an ungodly hour. How are you?”

“Really, really great,” I said, trying to tone down my very-awake state in the face of his interrupted sleep. “We had an unbelievable night at work.”

“Hit me,” he said, still yawning. “I mean, hit me gently. Not too many details. Don’t want you to go to prison.”

I groaned. “That blasted nondisclosure. I can’t wait to be able to tell you everything. When I signed up, I didn’t really think the life of a pastry chef would be one of secrecy. Not that I haven’t harbored a teeny tiny aspiration that I could be a Navy SEAL, but that pretty much ended in seventh grade. I got the impression it would be much more wait-in-the-desert and less Nancy Drew. I loved Nancy Drew.” I bit my lips together, abruptly aware I was rambling.

His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “How about you talk in really broad terms? Or in a sort of code? Like, ‘Tonight I saw a red item and a blue item,’ and then I’ll know we’re talking about purple.”

I closed my eyes. “This is so pathetic. Why don’t we just resort to haiku? ‘The pastry rose high. I did not make anyone vomit.’ Wait, that’s too many syllables, isn’t it?”

“Um, the last poem I read was by Shel Silverstein, and I’m positive it had something to do with a unicorn that never made it on to Noah’s ark. So, no poetry. It depresses normally happy people.”

“Okay,” I said, laughing. “No haiku. But I think I am cleared to say that I had a celebrity sighting tonight.”

“Oh, let’s play that game.” I could hear a jolt of enthusiasm as he woke up. “I’ll guess who and you just stay silent until I hit on the right celebrity.”

“Sounds good.”

“Joan Rivers.”

“Do I have to stay silent if the proposed celebrity is deceased?”

“Dang. I thought I heard something about that. Okay, what celebrity would be hanging out in Seattle? Here’s where I have an advantage because I grew up in Washington and I know the famous people list.” He paused, and I heard a door creak shut behind me. Avery waved with one hand as he locked up with the other.

“I’m assuming you wouldn’t be wowed by Paul Allen, even though he founded Microsoft with Bill Gates. No, probably not. Okay, how about Rainn Wilson from The Office?”

“No, but that man was not born with that name.” I nodded when Avery gestured a request to sit next to me on the bench. He sat heavily and with the same Cheshire grin I still sported.

“I have it,” Kai said. “Stephen S. Oswald.”

“Who?”

“You’re supposed to be remaining silent. Stop breaking the rules.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Shh. And Stephen S. Oswald happens to be a very famous astronaut. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him.”

I snorted and got called out for nonverbal rule breaking.

Avery nudged me. When he spoke, his voice was lowered. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I have news.”

I raised my eyebrows and covered the phone with my hand. “What?” I whispered.

“Sir Mix-A-Lot!” Kai sounded triumphant.

Avery turned toward me, draping his arm around the back of the bench. “TiffanTosh loved you. I mean really loved you.” His eyes, though bloodshot with fatigue, danced with excitement.

“I can’t believe it,” I whispered. “They said I was remarkable and just what the dessert world needed. They called me ‘a revelation’!”

Kai made another guess. “Kenny G? And if it was him, can you please describe the hair?”

Avery moved closer. “They said they really appreciated how simple but killer their dessert was, and that they were totally into paring down their lives. Fewer ingredients definitely spoke to them.”

“That’s so amazing,” I whispered. “I was worried I hadn’t done enough.”

Kai broke through. “Carol Channing. Or is she dead, too?”

“So, here’s the thing,” Avery said, and I leaned in to hear his lowered voice. “They are having a private party at their new house outside the city next week. And they want us to cook.”

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