I look at him in disbelief and he smirks, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “Not all the time. It happened once at the gym, once at the grocery store, another on my way to work in the morning. I think that’s it, though.”
I gape at him. “What? How come this is the first time it’s happened to me, then? What am I, chopped liver?”
We’re at the Starbucks now and as Benny reaches over me to open the door, he makes a big show of flexing. “Maybe there’s something about me that’s just, I don’t know, morememorable.”
Taking our spot at the end of the fortunately short line, I roll my eyes. “Right. Thank you for that, sir.”
He snickers and leans in to whisper in my ear, “More likely,people are less intimidated by me than by the hottest blonde to ever grace their computer screens.”
“Oh, good save,” I deadpan. “Keep it up, Norberto.”
He drags a hand over his face. “Never should’ve told you. What was that you were saying just a few minutes ago, about how you ‘really, really’ like me? I’ve been reading your favorite blog, remember?”
That gets a laugh out of me. “Oh lordy. Maybe there are some things I shouldn’t have told you, either.”
Benny gives me a wink, then his expression turns more serious. “Oh, that reminds me, there was something I wanted to tell you about today. You know, before we got derailed by how amazing I am and how legions of fans follow my every move.” I elbow him, and he laughs before continuing. “So, I talked to my parents yesterday.”
“Oh yeah?” I turn as we move up in line, giving him my full attention. Clearly he wanted to tell me that for a reason. “How’d it go?”
“Surprisingly well, actually. They’ve been watching some of our videos and seem impressed. But mostly it was good because they are seriously nuts about the couple of servers they hired for the summer.”
I raise an eyebrow, not sure I understand. “Interesting.”
Benny nods. “Yeah, so, that made me feel a lot better. I mean, I still haven’t told them I’m planning on staying in Seattle past the summer, but knowing they have some new people they’reexcited about, that they might not need me as much, that was good to hear. Makes it easier to think about leaving them.”
“Oh yeah, of course,” I say with a nod. I get it, and I’m glad for him that he’s feeling some relief. I know how much he worries about the tension with his parents. But whenever something about the fall comes up, I feel my nerves building. I can’t help my mind from going straight to the question of the internship and what it means for us. I clear my throat, realizing I probably haven’t said enough. “That’s great, Benny, seriously. What do you think—I mean, what might you do, hypothetically, in the case that you didn’t get the fall internship?”
I regret the question as soon as I pose it, and chancing a look at him, find his brow furrowed. “Well, of course I don’t know if I’ll get it. I don’t mean to sound like I’m counting on it.” He lowers his voice even though I don’t think anyone in the place cares to listen to our conversation. “Honestly, Reese, anything could happen with the fall spot. And if you get it, I’ll be happy for you. I’m planning on staying around regardless, though. I want to try for culinary school at some point, so if FoF doesn’t happen, I’ll just do that sooner. This one job doesn’t have to be my whole future.”
I nod, and when Benny nudges me, I look back up to see him giving me his most heart-melting smile. “You still gonna hang out with me when you’re a big-time college student?”
“Of course,” I answer with a smirk just before we reach the counter. Benny takes care of our order—as much black coffee asour arms can feasibly transport—then as we wait, he changes the subject to the latest Aiden drama from theGood Chef/Bad Chefset, where Benny’s been helping out some this week. I half listen, and laugh at the right times, as we gather our caffeinated bounty and start back toward the office, but I’m increasingly distracted.
The cease-fire bubble has been popped, at least for me. If the run-in with the fan hadn’t done the trick, all of Benny’s talk about this fall sure did.
I want to be as unperturbed by this competition as he seems to be. I feel guilty that I still think of it as a competition when Benny doesn’t seem like he’s tallying scores at all times in his head. I care about him so much, and I want him to succeed.
But I can’t put aside what I want for myself, either, and this job feels like itismy whole future—everything I’ve wanted, dreamed of, planned for, waiting on the other side if I can just get my foot through the door with that fall internship. I wanted to build a career at Friends of Flavor before I ever knew Benny, and if he decided he was over me tomorrow, I’d still want thisjob.
And even as he says how happy he’d be for my success, he’s not going to be stepping back and letting me have it. I don’t want that and I’ve told him as much. So why would I even think about doing the same? I shouldn’t. I should continue to work as hard as I am, do my best, and hope that it’s enough. Keep pushing and keeping score.
I haven’t added any points to the tally since Bainbridge, but this coffee run has brought it back to the forefront of my mind.The fact that Benny’s had all kinds of fan run-ins and this was my first feels significant. Is it just because he’s active on social media? Or is he more popular with viewers in general, because of who he is? I can’t help but lean toward the latter. And surely viewer opinion matters to Aiden, Margie, and the suits. I add a point in Benny’s favor on my mental scoreboard.
Benny—4, Reese—3.
The ding of the elevator breaks my train of thought, and the only remaining passenger besides Benny and me gets off at a floor a few below ours. When the doors close again, Benny leans over and lands a kiss on my cheek.
“What was that for?” I ask, trying to shove the intrusive thoughts out with a smile.
He sighs, leaning back against the elevator wall with his share of the coffees propped against his stomach, his serene smile suggesting he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Just basking in my good fortune, Reese’s Cup.”
And even as my heart swells, my stomach sinks.
The following Monday, I find myself questioning every choice that has led me to the point of standing in front of a crowd in rubber overalls. Aiden’s most ridiculous idea forAmateur Hourhas come to fruition, and Benny and I are being trained by the Pike Place Market fishmongers in the tricks of their trade. Like everything else in our show, they make a competition out of it, seeing which one of us does a better job of throwing and catching and, most importantly, not dropping the fish purchased by customers. It all goes well enough until I throw a massive salmon that Benny catches with his face.
Wising up to our total ineptitude, the fishmongers let the two of us only handle the smaller fish from then on. I kind of figure that Benny’s injury and the way he completes the rest of filming with an ice pack strapped to his face will garner him more of the sympathy vote, but the crowd never forgives him for fumbling that fish. Somehow, I manage to not make the samegrave error, and when the time comes for jury-by-cheering, the significantly louder screams are for me.Point Reese!
Benny—4, Reese—4.
