Vic scooted ahead of me to open the door to the Kitchen Collective. He bent to speak into my ear. “They don’t know you yet, but they will. Don’t worry.”
I didn’t. But as I stepped into the store and beheld the delights lining the walls and shelves and displays before me, I felt instantly invigorated. Limos were bizarre, but colanders? I spoke colander. These were my people.
The store was crowded with shoppers, and I threaded my way through them on my way to ceramics. The hot chocolate shot I’d concocted for TiffanTosh had received a hefty amount of buzz, enough to make it one of our most successful “underground” dishes. One could procure the shot at the restaurant, but one had to know to ask. Avery, in particular, loved the espionage aspect of the dish and refused to add it to the menu, even though it was becoming one of our most requested desserts. To mark its ascent, we were at the Kitchen Collective to find sets of unique glasses and saucers in which to serve the dessert.
Avery squeezed through the throng and joined me at a table piled with deep blue ceramic dishes that caught the overhead lights with their flecks of copper.
“These are wonderful,” I said, holding a slender cylinder up to the light. “I think the blue would look great with the interior of Thrill.”
“Fantastic, love,” Avery said.
Love? I looked at him, but he was opening his arm to a perky, petite woman. She wore a yellow apron printed with the store’s logo. Margot and Vic moved through the crowd to stand with us in a little circle.
“Charlie,” Avery said, “this is Susie Messenger. She is the owner of the store.”
“So fantastic to meet you,” Susie said. She seemed to be out of breath. “It’s such a great honor to have chefs of your caliber and reputation in our store. Great for business!” She pointed with a quick arc of her finger to the packed store.
I realized many of the shoppers had turned our way. A few of them were taking photos with their phones.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, intentionally speaking more softly than she had. We weren’t at a pep rally, for the love of Pete. “These dishes are beautiful. Would you be able to order enough for commercial purposes? We would need, what, Avery? Fifty sets?”
“Hmm?” Avery was smiling at a pretty girl who’d turned her iPhone in his direction.
“Of course,” Susie said, nodding. “I’m sure the distributor would be more than happy to help with a larger order. Especially since you two are all over the news! Such great timing for your show!”
I looked at her, uncomprehending.
Margot stepped in. “Charlie,” she said, “before you pull the trigger, perhaps you could take a look at the other options? I’m sure Susie would appreciate having photos posted with other items.”
“Sure,” I said, placing the blue dish down with a slow and careful hand. Walking through the rest of the store was hardly a burden for me, and I was happy to take my time. A kitchen store for me was like a Christmas morning that didn’t end. Every new display gave me a little jolt, a visual reminder of why I’d applied to culinary school in the first place. It didn’t take long before I was enjoying my role as purveyor and impromptu reviewer of Susie’s merchandise. I cooed about a box of Norwegian cheese slicers and ordered several for early Christmas gifts. A cake stand from an artist in Oregon made me swoon, and the shoppers following us around the store also murmured their appreciation.
Susie looked as though she were about to collapse from joy.
The bell on the front door clanged so often, my ears weren’t even registering its pitch any more. But one of those bells must have brought the arrival of Kai. When he called my name from the back of the crowd, I looked up, knowing his voice and happy to hear it.
“Kai!” I said. I realized Avery had one hand draped around my waist and had likely had it there for some time. We had very little room to maneuver in the cramped store, and I had not even noticed his closeness after a while.
Now, with Kai’s eyes locking on mine, I moved slightly to one side, trying to be discreet as I pushed Avery’s fingers off my waist.
A teenager with a long, carefully mussed fishtail braid stepped in front of us, blocking my view of Kai.
“Can I take a quick pic of you two? Really quick. I’ll totally post it and totally link it to your site.”
“Fabulous idea,” Vic said and pushed us together.
“How about a kiss?” the teen asked. “Just for kicks.”
The crowd agreed to the brilliance of this idea, and Vic encouraged them with a mischievous lift of his eyebrows.
“No, thanks,” I said, more roughly than I’d intended. “A photo’s fine, though. If you can take one quickly. I need to talk with someone at the front of the store.”
“Aww,” the teen said, faking a pout I’m sure her mother abhorred.
Avery and I smiled for her phone, then stayed in position for another fifteen phones brandished for the same purpose. I tried sneaking looks at Kai, and I could see he was still in the store, but I couldn’t get a read on his expression because he appeared to be pacing.