“I love you, Benny.” I hadn’t said it out loud before, for fear that this would end and I’d be heartbroken. But it appears that will not be the case. And I’m so, so certain that I love him.
“Woo!”he shouts, lifting me by the waist and twirling me around. Then, since the camera is still rolling—perhaps a sense of “what do we really have to lose at this point?” on Charlie’s part—he yells, “I LOVE REESE CAMDEN! Who wants cake?”
The room fills with the sound of laughter and excitement for what is most certainly the wildest livestream that will ever grace the Friends of Flavor channel. Aiden looks like he could keel over any second. Margie, calmly amused, pushes a stool behind him and urges him to sit. Even Charlie is laughing as he turns off the camera and the Friends of Flavor staff pour into the frame to cut and claim pieces of Benny’s Reese’s Cup cake.
The scoreboard I’ve carried in my mind for most of the summer starts to scroll wildly through numbers on both Benny’s andmy sides, like a malfunctioning slot machine, both of our scores getting higher and higher, all the way toward infinity. Because somehow, regardless of who’s the better chef or the fan favorite or the bosses’ preference, we’ve both won.
I go stand in a quieter spot off to the side with the man of the hour, or perhaps the man who has made me the woman of the hour, my arms around his waist and my head upon his shoulder.
Speaking just for Benny to hear, I ask, “How did they not stop you at ‘frankly, I don’t give a shit’?”
I feel a laugh rumble through his chest. “Charlie’s a romantic at heart, really. I knew Aiden would flip—hoped you wouldn’t, wherever or whenever you saw it—but I’m mostly surprised Margie let any of it happen.”
Glancing in the direction of that familiar frizzy gray braid, I smile. “Don’t underestimate Margie.”
“Hmm.” After a pause, he says, “So, you heard me say I’m sorry, right? I hope that’s clear. What I said the other day was stupid—you’re so strong and you’ve handled everything that’s been thrown at you like a boss. I wish I’d been better at sticking up for you this whole time. I know you don’t need me protecting you or anything, but I want to be beside you, however you want me.”
I place my hand on his chest, leaning back to look at him. “I’msorry. I jumped to the worst conclusions because I was scared. It’s been hard for me to believe that this can actually be a wonderful thing, you and me. That there’s no catch. But I believe inyou,and I’ve missed you something awful. Plus, no one else has evermade an entire cooking show that’s basically an extended metaphor for how great I am, in the most excellent and most public display of affection I’ve ever seen.”
“Wait, that’s what you thought I was doing? Ah, this is awkward. You’re great and all, but my Reese’s Cup cake is next level. You should try some.”
I pretend to shove him away, but he holds me even tighter and kisses my forehead. “So, Reese Camden, teammate and all-around wonderful person whom I love…”
“Oh lordy.”
“Assuming they don’t fire me outright once everything settles down, are you ready for these last few weeks as costars? I know I may have looked like a calm, cool, and collected professional doing this by myself, but I definitely prefer working with a partner. With you, specifically.”
I look into his eyes, biting my lip to stall the grin that threatens to break through. “I’m ready. But I have a feeling that our time as costars is far from over.”
“Really?” He gets a confused pout on his face. “Are we still talking in Benny-and-Reese-are-in-love code?”
“No, literal costars,” I say, laughing. “Long story, but all signs point to both of us sticking around Friends of Flavor a little longer.”
“Okay, Magic 8 Ball girlfriend, let me know when you want to clue me in.” He eyes me with suspicion, but I’m not going to tell him everything right here and now. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Love,” I correct.
“Right. I really hope the lunch rush at Beneventi’s ran late today.”
I frown. “Why?”
“So my family didn’t end up watching my first livestream. C’mon, let’s get some cake.”
Two Months Later
“Hey, everyone, welcome toFeminism with Flavor.I’m Katherine, and I’m here with Dr. Teresa Novak, an OB-GYN, outspoken advocate for women’s reproductive health, andNew York Timesbestselling author ofThe Lady Doctor. Today she’s also my sous-chef as we prepare chicken cacciatore. Dr. Novak, thanks so much for joining me.”
“This is so badass,” Benny whispers as we peek around the entrance to Prep Kitchen 3, a few yards behind the camera filming Katherine’s episode.
“She’s even more perfect in person,” Natalie squeaks from beside him.
“It is, and she is,” I agree with a smile. “But we should probably make ourselves scarce before—”
“Beneventi, Camden. Two interlopers. What are you stilldoing here?” Aiden’s voice snaps behind us, as quietly as one is capable of snapping.
“Leaving now,” I say as we scramble to grab our things and head toward the exit, hoping my more respectful response drowns out Benny’s snickering. “See you Friday!”
Natalie and Clara, who are in town for fall break, trail Benny and me as we pass the chefs and kitchen assistants carrying on the usual hustle and bustle of the Friends of Flavor office. I know them all by name now and exchange smiles and waves with a few as they mix ingredients, organize pantries, clean kitchens, take dishes out of ovens and set others on burners, sneak bites of each other’s food.
