Lumi sighed. She twisted the knob of the tap to increase the flow of hot water down into the bath and hoped the warmth would help ease her nerves. Just when she felt her shoulders easing down a bit, another thought popped into her head. Her eyes opened abruptly. What was the deal with Esme?
That woman was rude and seemed so possessive of Julien for no apparent reason. Julien didn’t seem interested in her in the slightest. When she walked into a room he reacted like a pigeon had flown onto a park bench. Lumi wondered why she acted like Julien belonged to her. And why was she still hanging around at the end of the night?
An acidic feeling gnawed at and twisted her stomach. She reached for her glass of cabernet and downed a healthy gulp, telling herself that she was imagining it all. And besides, there was no reason to worry about any of this, anyway. The thought felt strangely comforting.
“This should be an easy night,” Gloria said, “since there’s not that much for us to do. Not much we can do,” she mused, glancing down at the glossy black flyer in her hand.
SUSHIYA AT DAX! FRENCH-JAPANESE FUSION SUSHI-MAKING COURSE—ONE NIGHT ONLY! $200 PER PERSON. INCLUDES MATERIALS, INSTRUCTION, AND ONE GLASS OF WINE PER PARTICIPANT. BE THERE OR BE A SQUARE ROLL.
“Julien must have written that,” Lumi said, wincing at the corny tagline.
In the dining room, the instructor rolled out bamboo mats and stocked the tables with sheets of nori and jars of pickled carrots. The staff had laid out a long table on the opposite side of the room, across from the main entrance, and had pushed all the round dining tables closer to form a half-circle facing the table.
“Can we at least watch?” Ruben asked, leaning his hefty frame against the doorway, his eyes clearly on the tall, dark-haired woman teaching the class.
“Yes. Well, Ruben, I’m going to need you to grill some chicken for the sushi, please,” Julien said as he strode into the kitchen with baskets of nori. “After you’re done, you are welcome to participate in the workshop, as are you all.”
His gaze connected with Lumi’s, his eyes twinkling. The tiny hairs running down her spine stood to attention. What was happening to her?
“Chicken for sushi? Okay, whatever you say, boss,” Ruben said, scratching his head.
Lumi had already prepared her contribution to the evening, roasted red pepper mayo. She was free to take off and spend the night catching up on The Crown. But her body had other ideas. She found herself an observer as she marched through the dining room doors and claimed an empty seat at the round table closest to the left-hand side of the long workshop table. Nine participants had arrived and were busy getting comfortable at some of the other tables.
Her seat was far away from Julien’s table, and she hoped she would be able to concentrate and enjoy the opportunity to do something creative at DAX. Julien was sitting to the right of the workshop table, his attention focused on the workshop teacher, who introduced herself as Mariko Takata. Her long black hair had been pulled into a French twist that tucked neatly into the back of her sushi chef’s hat, and her rosy cheeks were smattered with freckles.
Gloria came into the dining area, leading an elderly man with a bow tie and walking stick. “This is my friend, Mr. Ronin,” she said. “He has limited vision. Can we get a front seat for him?”
Julien jumped out of his seat. “Here, take mine,” he said, and pulled out a chair for Mr. Ronin. When the elderly man was comfortably seated, Julien moved his materials from his table and walked over to Lumi’s, pulling out the chair next to hers.
She racked her brain for something to say before an uncomfortable silence could set in. “I thought fusion wasn’t your thing,” she said.
“It’s not,” Julien answered. “Ms. Takata contacted me to rent the dining room for her workshop. She brought most of her own supplies.”
“Ahh, so that’s why we don’t have to cook almost anything,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Are you . . . friends?” she asked.
Julien paused and turned his head toward her. “Colleagues,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” she said quickly, and grabbed some nori sheets to start smoothing over her mat.
Right as Ms. Takata began the class, Esme snuck through the door and made a beeline for Julien and Lumi’s table. She pulled up a chair next to Julien and plopped her square black notepad on the table. Lumi and Julien turned to look at her.
“Oh, Esme. I didn’t expect you to be at work so late,” Julien said.
She flipped her honey-colored hair over her shoulder. “I came to take notes for you,” Esme said.
“On the sushi workshop?” His furrowed brow belied his confusion.
“You . . . don’t need any notes for this?”
“No, no thank you. That won’t be necessary.”
Lumi crinkled the ends of her nori sheet between her fingers as she listened.
“Oh . . . my mistake. See you tomorrow morning then.” Esme stood up and hastened away just as quickly as she came, leaving the black notepad behind.
Lumi met Julien’s gaze, and they both shrugged.
“That was weird,” Lumi said.
“Indeed.”
“Do you think she’ll be needing this?” Lumi asked, pointing to the notepad.
Julien frowned. “I’ll put it back in the supply closet before I go.”
“Have you ever made sushi before?” she asked him, eager to change the subject.
“I took a class like this one a few years back, but it’s been a while,” he said. “You?”
She nodded. “At my restaurant, we did a sushi night about once a month. Instead of fish, we would use fried cheese, fried salami, ripe plantain . . . and lots of fresh avocado.”
“Yum,” he said, licking his lower lip. Her eyes followed the movement of his tongue until it slipped back into his mouth. She shivered again. He didn’t seem to notice, as he took a few nori sheets for himself.
They added rice and small strips of fish to the nori sheets from the trays Ms. Takata passed around. They also took goat cheese and julienned escargot, a treat for the more daring of the bunch. In the middle of their rolling, Julien suddenly jumped up from his chair.
“I almost forgot my sauce! Be right back,” he said.
He returned with a porcelain bowl and ladle. Lumi concentrated on her own roll, but when he placed it on the table, she had to look. A smooth, rich green sauce with golden flecks filled the vessel.
“Would you like some?” he asked.
Lumi shook her head.
Julien studied her for a split second, then shrugged and poured the sauce over his sushi roll liberally. It spilled down the sides, wetting the bamboo mat with earthy green matter.
As Lumi looked up from the table for a moment, she saw Gloria approaching.
“Er, Julien, we can’t find the second serving of fish,” she said, biting her lip.
“Are you serious? I have to do everything around here,” he said as he followed Gloria to the kitchen. Once Julien was gone, Lumi stared at his mysterious green sauce. Were those golden flecks pine nuts? She glanced around her, hoping no one would notice her sneaking a taste.
She nicked a piece of sushi off his mat with her chopsticks and brought it to her lips. The surge of electric energy swept through her body, as her face flushed and her scalp and hands tingled. And just as the first time she tasted Julien’s cooking, it had a taste that she then recognized as sage.