Page 253 of Scoring the Player
“That’s better than the original,” Kim says, polishing off a second serving. “Quinces…brilliant.”
Salem beams.
“Think you might have figured out where you went astray?” She asks him.
“I think so. It was a couple of small things that added up to a lot. To start, I didn’t get the substitution proportion right for the fruit, and I needed to pull back on the lemon verbena.”
She nods. “Recipes are tricky that way. You sub one thing for another, and it can change everything.”
“I learned a lot tonight,” Salem says. “Thank you! You have to let us treat you and your husband to dinner at my place.”
“Really? We’d love that. Maybe I’ll take a page from your book and surprise him for date night,” she says to me.
I reach across, and we bump fists.
“May I also ask for you both to sign some things? One for me and one for my husband, who I had to talk down from canceling a business meeting he spent months preparing for because he wanted to come home early and meet you.”
Salem laughs and replies, “Of course.”
As soon as she’s out of sight, he spins me around on the stool, clasps the sides of my face, and kisses me.
I moan too loudly, making him chuckle and pull back.
“You’ve been edging me all night,” I whisper. He knows what it does to me when he’s in serious baker mode.
He brushes his lips against my ear. “You’re falling asleep on my dick tonight.”
I moan again.
When Kim returns, I’m on my feet, selling a drawn-out yawn.
Salem fights a grin, shaking his head.
She extends a Brooklyn Lions fitted hat for us to sign.
I raise my hands. “I feel like it’s bad luck for me to sign it.”
They both laugh.
“Fair,” she says. “How about this?” She holds out a frame with glass but no picture. “Sign the glass? We’ll take a selfie, and I’ll put our picture inside of it and hang it in my bakery.”
“What an honor,” Salem says, returning the hat to her.
We huddle together and snap a few selfies, some on Salem’s phone.
We’re headed to the door when she asks, “You two have plans off-season?”
I look at Salem.
We plan to be together and spend time with our families, travel a bit, but nothing concrete.
“Some plans, why?” he asks.
“A few of my chef and baker friends from around the world meet up every summer for a week. Sometimes all together, other times in different groups. This summer, one group of us plansto meet in Mexico City and the other in Japan. It’s real chill. We meet with local chefs and pastry chefs there, try all the foods, check out the local markets, and cook together. Lots of experimentation and ideation. You’re both welcome to join us. If you think you learned a lot here, you’ll learn tenfold around the larger group. I certainly have. I plan to make both trips.”
“Yes!” Salem replies. “Absolutely.” He turns to me, and his smile fades. “Wait, sorry, let us discuss it first and get back to you.”
“We’ll be there,” I reply.
