"I can only imagine the animal by-products in that c.r.a.p," Manda said to me as I hustled out of the room.

"Mommy said 'c.r.a.p'!" Zara announced through the swamp on her lips.

Polly and I covered the half block between the Henricks' and Kai's house in short order, but I was still sweating by the time I climbed the stairs to Kai's front porch. The child was a little heat sink, cherubic and gurgling but the temperature of the earth's inner core.

"Hey, ladies," Kai said when he opened the door. His eyes took me in, and I felt my heart do an impressively acrobatic flip. "Do you always look this fantastic for children's birthday parties?"

"You look good yourself," I said as he pulled us into a three-person hug, kissed me on the forehead and Polly on her fat cheek. "And you smell good. And you just shaved."

Pulling one hand across his chin, he led us into his house. "I thought a clean-shaven look would photograph well when I win." He didn't even try to sound like he didn't care. "Victory is mine, Cupcake Queen."

I rolled my eyes and sat with Polly on a worn leather couch. I breathed in deeply, taking in the delicious scent of Kai's house, a mix of vanilla and spice and leather and man deodorant, and I couldn't hide my surprise. "This is really nice."

Kai lowered himself into an oversized chair opposite the couch. His mouth upturned into a wry smile. "I'd love to hear why you are shocked. Did you think I lived in a hovel? Maybe expected more squalor than you're seeing here?"

"No, of course not." The blasted redness in my cheeks betrayed me. "I just figured you were a bachelor and that bachelors don't typically have a close relationship with Pine-Sol. Nor do they frame cool art posters."

Polly started to hunt for something to chew on and settled on a face plant, right into the leather armrest. Kai scooped her up and walked to the kitchen.

"I clean, though not as often or with as much aerobic intensity as some," Kai called over his shoulder. I followed him, loving the creaks of protest that the old hardwood put up as we walked. The light-filled living room gave way to a dining room that showcased a long rectangle table and mismatched chairs. The rooms were tidy, but lived in.

"I do vacuum on occasion," Kai continued. Polly squawked her glee at grabbing two fists full of his hair. "I also brush my teeth. And use the self-cleaning option on my oven about once a year. And I use Q-Tips in my ears to remain wax-free."

I tsked. "You shouldn't do that, you know. Q-Tips only push the wax deeper in."

We'd reached the kitchen, and Kai got Polly happily settled on the shiny wood floor by surrounding her with measuring cups and rubber spatulas. She made lots of happy, grunting noises and then commenced cramming items into her mouth, gumming them with enthusiasm.

Kai leaned against the counter and tugged me toward him. "How are you?" he said.

I had to concentrate fully on his words because his eyes and face and mouth were so much more interesting. "I'm well. You?"

He leaned into me, brushing his mouth on my neck. "My kitchen is a happier place with you in it," he said softly against my hair.

The skin on my arms and neck tingled. "Is that some kind of veiled reference about a woman's place and all that?"

"I'm not very interested in what every other woman is doing right now," he said, feathering soft, indulgent kisses along my jawbone. "But I do think your place is absolutely right here."

I swallowed hard and forgot about trying for a witty reply. In fact, I'd forgotten the day of the week and my mother's middle name when we were interrupted by a sharp rap on the front door.

"h.e.l.lo? Anybody home?" Jack's voice preceded the sound of the screen door opening.

Kai jumped back from me as if burned. His eyes were wide as he called, "Hey, Jack. Be right there."

"Close neighborhood," I hissed while patting my cheeks, hoping they weren't as flushed as they felt.

Kai strode around the corner and into the front hall. I lifted Polly and two spatulas into my arms and walked toward their conversation.

Jack took one look at me and whistled. "You guys were totally making out. Sorry." He took Polly before I lost control of her wild lunging.

"What?" Kai said, trying to look relaxed. "No, listen, we were just getting some things together in the kitchen."

Jack snorted. "Dude, I may be an ancient married man to you, but I still recognize a hormone or two when I see it." He nodded at me, which made my cheeks deepen another two shades. I was going to kill him.

"I'd even say you should go back to the kitchen and carry on, but Manda looked like her head was about to spin off its axis when she sent me over for you two. She says it's time for reinforcements and cupcakes." He turned to go but not before wrestling Kai's spatulas out of Polly's chubby grip. She howled in protest, and Jack had to holler to be heard.

"See you two at the house," he said as he took long strides down Kai's front walk. "Sorry again for the interruption."

Kai left me to go turn off some lights and grab his keys, birthday candles, and the cupcakes off the kitchen table. I waited on the porch and was deadheading a pot of herbs when he took my hand.

"I feel like a teenager caught making out in my parents' bas.e.m.e.nt," Kai laughed.

I set a slow walking pace. The party could wait. The week ahead at Thrill was a going to be a doozy, full of promotional events and industry meet-and-greets. These few steps between Kai's house and a gaggle of screaming kindergartners were likely going to be our only moments of alone time for too many days.

"True," I agreed. "But Jack has also seen me cry off all my makeup, get a b.l.o.o.d.y nose during a double date then bleed all over my date's white pants, and burn my upper lip into one long mustache scab when Manda and I tried a home waxing kit. He is fully accustomed to seeing me in compromising conditions."

"Wait," Kai said, his hand up to stop my words. "How could you allow yourself to date a man who wore white pants?"

I let him laugh because, honestly, the mental image of Dan Richards and his white trousers was still alarming fifteen years later.

Kai sniffed. "I'm going to a.s.sume it was Avery Michaels. Don't even tell me if it wasn't because it's so much more fun to think that it was."

At the mention of Avery's name, I felt some of the blood drain from my fingers, even though they were still coc.o.o.ned within Kai's warm grasp. My mind filled with images of Avery's face so close to mine, his mouth finding me and pushing hard, the heat of the fireplace on my back and the insistence in Avery's voice and words.

Kai's gentle nudge pulled me out of my silence. "You okay?" he asked. We came to a stop at the edge of the Henricks' sidewalk.

I swallowed. Tell him, I thought. Come clean. He deserves that.

"Kai," I began.

He waited.

I couldn't. In fact, I reasoned quickly, I shouldn't. Avery meant nothing to me, and his weird and sudden affection the night before didn't change that. The tension between Kai and Avery certainly needed no fanning from me. To dredge it all up needlessly would be cruel.

I smiled. "Nothing," I said. "Just wanted to warn you about something."

"What's that?" he said.

"It's the cupcakes." I frowned as if facing a moral dilemma. "You're about to go down." I tried my best to look earnest. "The first step is always acknowledging you have a problem."

Kai's phone chimed the arrival of a text. He narrowed his eyes at me for a retort but glanced down at the screen.

"Good grief," he said while scrolling with his thumb. "It's Dahlia. She's texted about six times, telling me I need to call her. Weird." He furrowed his brow at the phone. "She says she wants to talk with me about you." He dropped his phone unceremoniously into his pocket and shook his head. "Probably already freaking out about our fall festival at the farm and wondering if I'm going to bring you."

I felt my stomach lurch, my close call with total and unnecessary disclosure still fresh. I wanted Kai to like me with no reservations. His sisters, too. I'd almost gotten in the way of that by spilling what didn't need to be spilled. "What will you tell her?" We started up the walk toward a symphony of little girl shrieks.

He pulled me into a side hug as we walked. "That's up to you." He opened the door for me. "But do you think Avery would lend me his white pants?"

I shuddered and he laughed. The thought of Avery sharing anything with Kai-secrets included-sounded like a recipe for disaster.

22.

HONESTLY, the limo seemed like overkill. We were in Seattle, after all. The land of Birkenstocks and coffee and impossible parking. But Vic and Margot had insisted.

"But we're only going shopping. For dishes, of all things," I'd said. My protests sounded feeble, particularly with Avery's outsized enthusiasm as my counterpart.

"Carpe limo!" he'd said and dragged me into the back seat across from Vic and Margot.

I sat gingerly at first on the plush velvet, more than a tad embarra.s.sed by all the onlookers who stared as we made our way through town. Weren't stretch limos for proms and sweet sixteens? I felt old and as if I'd come to the party early and overdressed.

"Charlie, Charlie, Charlie," Margot chided when she glimpsed my discomfort. "You must come to peace with your new life." She raised her eyebrows at me.

Vic nodded. "Attention is good. Attention means ratings and advertisers and renewed contracts. Limos attract attention, our corporate sponsors like attention, so we like limos. Even for a trip to University Village to buy dishes."

I sat back into the seat and noted how infinitely more comfortable it was than the one in my decrepit Honda.

"Listen," Avery said quietly, though I couldn't imagine it was quiet enough to escape Margot and Vic's ears. "I'm sorry about the other night."

I scooted a little closer in an attempt to gain some privacy.

Avery took my hand and waited for me to meet his gaze. "Truly. I'm sorry. I was out of line, and I was tired, you were tired." His laugh sounded nervous and forced. "Old habits die hard, right? So, forgive me?"

I could feel Margot and Vic's concentrated attention, even though they were making a point to stare out the long windows.

"It's okay," I said quietly. "Like you said, we're both running on empty. I should have just gone home instead of taking an accidental nap by the fire."

We rode without speaking for a few blocks. The sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds that covered the city. Grand, ominous shadows blanketed our view for long moments and then blew away suddenly, leaving a city gleaming and trembling with light.

"It was a good kiss, though. Admit it." Avery put his hand on my knee and grinned, wagging his eyebrows up and down in clownish suggestion.

I peeled his hand off my knee firmly and with deliberation. "It was sloppy," I said, glad that Avery chuckled and that my heart lightened. Being a part of a world that involved limos and stylists and cameras in my face while torching a line of cremes brlee was bizarre enough. The last thing I needed was extra weirdness with an old friend and colleague.

The limo rolled to a stop in front of a high-end kitchen store sandwiched within a block of charming boutiques. Vic unloaded a sheath of postcards into my hands and pa.s.sed another stack to Avery. They were glossy, black-and-white photos of a woman and a man, both photographed from the neck down. The woman had one hand on her hip and the other pointing with a sa.s.sy, painted fingernail to the man's chest. The man faced her, and, though the photo cut off his face and expression, I'm sure he was ogling the woman's open chef's tunic and her burgeoning, healthy bustline, trimmed with just a peek of purple lace. In luscious purple type across the image, the postcards read, THRILL ME. A DELICIOUS NEW SERIES ON SURGE TV.

"Give these to as many people as you can," Vic said, looking uncharacteristically ruffled. "Debut episode airs September 1."

"Sweet," Avery said, taking a close look. "Char, you look great."

I snapped the photo away from his eyeb.a.l.l.s, even though a pile remained in his hand. "You and I both know that woman looks nothing like mine."

Margot snickered.

"I mean me. Nothing like me." I cleared my throat.

The driver opened our door, and Margot motioned for me to get out first. "Smile," she said, without doing so herself.

I obeyed, feeling my fingers curl around the postcards. A few pa.s.sersby stopped to watch the spectacle of the four of us unfolding from the limo, but most people, I was relieved to note, couldn't appear to care less.

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 gla.s.ses 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, pet.i.te woman. She wore a yellow ap.r.o.n 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.