“Yeah,” he answered, breaking into another smile, “just kind of an irritating day at the office.”
“What happened?” Lumi asked.
“Esme resigned,” he said.
“Really?” she said.
Julien nodded. “Mm-hmm. Sent me an email. Didn’t even come in to resign in person.”
Lumi blew out the air she had been holding in. “Wow.”
“Yep. Now I have no closure about what happened to you, and I also don’t have a receptionist. Awesome,” he said.
Lumi sighed. “I don’t know what kind of closure we can ever have, babe. And trying to look for it makes me feel like I might go crazy, because I already know there’s no way to find it. So you know what? We just have to say it is what it is and be thankful it wasn’t worse. I can see, I can move, I can work. I need to keep looking forward because dwelling on the what-ifs doesn’t help at all,” she said.
Julien nodded, his mouth wide open. “I have nothing to say. You’re right,” he said.
“Well, I don’t see what other way there is. Anyway! Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, and in a blink, she was back with two bourbons on the rocks in highball glasses.
“That’s all I have right now,” she said.
“It’s perfect.” He beamed at her as he sunk down into the couch. He looped an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. “So, babe? We’re in ‘babe’ territory now, I take it?”
She answered him with a playful eye roll. “You’re just goofy.”
He took a glass from her and savored the bourbon. After a few minutes, he felt his shoulders relax.
“That’s better,” he said. He settled a hand on her knee and then ran it up her thigh, caressing the fullness of it. Then he slid it down and away, playfully reaching out to tug on the hem of her jacket.
“I was just heading out to get some pho,” she said.
He thought for a moment. “Lumi,” he said, “I want to cook for you tonight.”
Immediately she felt her chest constrict.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me,” he said, “and I think that if you taste what I make for you, you’ll know for sure.”
“I believe you,” she said, and she did, although she still felt a little hesitant for him to cook for her so soon.
“Just let me cook for you tonight, please, Lu. If you don’t like what you taste, you don’t ever have to try my cooking again.”
She half smiled as she remembered her vow to herself when she first started working at DAX.
“Please, babe,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her neck.
Goose bumps rose on Lumi’s arms. She sighed in joking exasperation. “Fiiine.”
He rewarded her with a brilliant smile, jumped up from the couch, and dashed to the kitchen. He searched through her refrigerator and found salmon fillets, fresh penne from Fairway, and some sliced pineapple.
“Can I use these?” he asked, holding up two small potted basil plants from the kitchen windowsill.
She nodded and watched him as he laid everything out on the countertop and began chopping. “What can I do?” she asked.
Julien gestured at her, thinking for a minute, a devilish grin playing on his lips. “You can change into something more comfortable and get ready for me,” he said.
The feeling in the pit of her belly told her that was a fine idea.
By the time she had showered and changed into some soft lace pajamas, there was a full meal laid out on her kitchen table.
“Fresh pesto,” she said. “And look at that. I was about to go out because I couldn’t find anything to eat.”
“See why you need me around?” he said as he winked.
There was also a bottle of pinot noir on the table that she hadn’t noticed him bring in. She eyed it with a look of quizzical amusement.
“I always have a reserve,” he said, smiling.
“In your sleeve?” she asked. She knew she didn’t have any wine at home.
“This time, yes,” he answered, as he uncorked the bottle and poured each of them a glass.
The penne had succulent bites of flaked salmon throughout, equally bathed in the fresh pesto he had whipped up. She saw him focus studiously on his plate as she took a forkful in her mouth. There was the full and creamy flavor of garlic, the tangy basil, and the savory morsels of fish. There were also some crackles of bright, sweet flavor—the pineapple. And then there was that deep, smoky aftertaste of sage again.
She stopped in her tracks. He glanced up, raising an eyebrow.
“Everything’s excellent,” she said, and he let out an audible sigh of relief. “It’s just . . . I have to tell you something,” Lumi added.
Julien encouraged her to go on with his eyes.
“You remember what I told you the other day, about the food and tastes?”
“Of course.”
“Every time I eat your cooking, it tastes like sage to me. It doesn’t matter what you put in it. I never tasted that before. And I can’t figure out why,” she blurted out, feeling relief at finally having gotten this off her chest.
A wistful look crinkled the corners of his eyes. “That’s funny,” he said. “When I was a child, my mother had an herb garden, and that’s where she taught me how to plant. I was in charge of the sage and marjoram, and sometimes, when she wasn’t looking, I would pick a few sage leaves and chew them.”
“Hmm. That could be it.”
“Could be, I have no idea. But there’s something I can’t wait anymore to tell you, and it’s that I love you,” he said.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart thrummed in her chest. That wasn’t the answer she was expecting, but it was all she needed to hear and more. Though if she were to be truly honest with herself, she already knew.
“I love you too,” she said.
A few months ago, she would never have imagined she would be saying it to a man. Especially not this one. But it had the ring of truth in her ears.
“I love you, Lumi,” he whispered into her hair. He grasped her hand, and she leaned in to kiss him. They had the rest of the dinner the next morning for breakfast.
“I brought you something,” Julien said, setting a white cardboard bakery box down on Lumi’s kitchen counter the following afternoon. The late May sun was resplendent, and the magnolia trees across the street by Kraft Field were fully bloomed, so much so that Lumi swore she could smell them from inside the apartment.
“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t have,” she joked, but nevertheless hastened over to open the lid. She gasped as she peeked in.
“Wow, Julien. White chocolate and caviar on . . . is that barley crostini?”
“Yup,” he answered with a grin.
She picked one up and took a bite. “Delicious. You didn’t make these, though.”
He smiled. “You’re right. It was Gloria,” he said.
Lumi stared down at the crostini round, turning it this way and that, watching the light refract off the tiny, glossy roe bubbles. She felt his eyes on her.
“I miss working with you, Lu. I wish you would reconsider and come back to the kitchen. You know, just give it a chance.”