The Little Brooklyn Bakery

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Why not?’ Todd spread his hands. ‘Live a little.’

  ‘Sadly …’ She looked at his handsome, smiling face. He had no idea. He’d probably never had a serious, stable relationship in his life. ‘I’m not built for flings. I’m an all-or-nothing girl.’

  Chapter 12

  ‘Hey Bella, I’ve had an idea.’ Sophie rushed into the kitchen, waving her notepad, having come straight from her subway journey. Calling in on Bella on her way home from work had become part of her daily routine. After a quick cup of coffee and a chat together, she’d nip upstairs, change and then come back down for an hour or two of baking cupcakes and cookies. Her icing skills had improved dramatically and under Bella’s exacting eye she’d even been allowed to frost the last three batches of cakes.

  Bella straightened and put down her frosting bag, rubbing her back. ‘Hello, you. Coffee?’

  ‘I’ll do it. Decaff?’ Sophie nipped over to the small Nespresso machine, still feeling rather pleased with herself.

  ‘I think I’ve nailed Eleanor’s cake.’ It was no good, Sophie couldn’t wait for coffee. She danced back to Bella’s side. ‘I realised Eleanor’s wedding is as much a celebration of her success in her career as about getting married. Her job is her top priority. So I was thinking … How about this?’ She opened up the notebook to show a few sketches. ‘Each layer features a different wallpaper pattern in contrasting colours.’ She pointed. ‘You need to get Eleanor to choose her favourite three wallpapers, which would make it really personal.’

  Bella threw her arms around her. ‘Yes! You clever thing. It’s perfect.’ Bella studied the page in the notebook, flipping through the pages. ‘These are brilliant sketches. You’re a genius.’

  ‘No, you’ll be the genius because I haven’t a clue how you’ll achieve it.’ Although Sophie could bake, she was very much in awe of Bella’s decorating skills.

  ‘Neither do I … yet. But I can teach you, if you’re interested.’

  ‘Yes please,’ said Sophie with such alacrity that Bella burst out laughing.

  ‘You don’t know what you’ve let yourself in for yet.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Sophie, busying herself making their coffee. ‘If I can make something that looks anywhere near as good as your stuff, I’ll be thrilled.’

  Her eyes shone with enthusiasm. ‘And I’d love to learn. I’ve been dying to know how you did the lace on the My Fair Lady cake. It looks amazing. And so do these.’ She pointed to Bella’s work in progress.

  Bella picked up her frosting bag and started adding the finishing touches to yellow petals spilling over the sides of wider, flatter cupcakes than she normally made. ‘You like?’

  ‘I love, they are so cute,’ said Sophie, diverted by the sunflower cupcakes.

  ‘They’re for a commission but I thought I might start selling them regularly.’

  ‘You could do seasonal flowers each month,’ suggested Sophie, bending over to examine the details of the sunflower seeds in the middle of the cakes.

  Bella whirled around. ‘What a brilliant idea! Sophie, I love you. We make a great team. Sure you don’t want to give up the magazine gig and come work for me?’ She broke off and gnawed at her lip with her teeth, ‘Although you do most evenings. I shouldn’t be encouraging you. I worry you’re using helping me as an excuse to hide away, even though I love having your help.’

  ‘But I love being here,’ said Sophie, looking around Bella’s kitchen, which felt like home these days. ‘You don’t need to worry. Honestly.’ The whir and rattle of the blade in the Kitchen Aid, the comforting feeling of flour on her hands, the sound of caster sugar pitter-pattering into the bowl on the scales and the sweet vanilla smell of cupcakes were universal. She could have been anywhere but they all signified home from home.

  ‘Although tonight, I can’t stay long. I’m going out later for dinner.’

  ‘Good for you.’

  ‘I can stay an hour before I need to go and get ready.’

  ‘So, where’s Paul taking you?’

  Sophie hesitated for a fraction of a second. ‘I’m going out with Todd actually. A restaurant/club launch. He wants a foodie to help him critique it.’

  Bella gave her a sharp look. Sophie held up her hands. ‘Don’t worry, I’m immune to the legendary Todd McLennan charm.’

  ‘Good.’ Bella sighed and leaned against the stainless-steel counter, crossing her feet at the ankles. ‘He’s my cousin, I love him to bits, but lovely as he is, he’s also seriously messed up. He wouldn’t thank me for telling you but it’s enough to say that his parents’ marriage is the first word in dysfunctional. If you can knock up a couple of batches of batter while I ice this lot, that would be a massive help, but only if you’re sure. If it’s only Todd, you’re not going to want to doll yourself up, are you?’

  ‘No, I’ve got time,’ said Sophie airily, as she started gathering ingredients with familiar ease.

  Todd texted to say he’d arrived and was with Bella downstairs. Sophie pulled a face in the mirror. She’d hoped to avoid seeing Bella before she went out. Of course she’d dolled herself up. She was going out with Todd McLennan, international playboy, for God’s sake. Feminine pride alone dictated that she was ultra-careful with her eye make-up. She also put on her favourite top, which happened to be a designer cast-off from Kate.

  You could tell it was expensive from the cut – which accentuated her waist and dipped demurely at the neckline, revealing the slight swell of her breasts without being overt – and from the way the delicate folds of turquoise silk shimmered in the mirror. Sophie smiled at herself.

  The outfit was completed with ripped skinny jeans and sparkly Kurt Geiger flat sandals, and she felt she’d got it right. Hip without being too glitzy and still comfortable in her own skin. She felt like herself.

  With a nod, she tucked her clutch bag under her arm and went downstairs.

  Todd had made himself at home, as he invariably did wherever he was, sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs and licking clean the cake-mix bowl, chatting away to Bella.

  For a minute Sophie hung back before walking into the kitchen, suddenly self-conscious. Before she had a chance to retreat and go and put on a different top, Todd spotted her. For a brief second, his eyes widened and he held her gaze for a further heart-stalling moment before he quickly jumped off the counter.

  ‘English. You’re ready and on time. Have that girl cloned.’

  Bella looked up. ‘Whoa, girl!’

  Immediately Sophie felt awkward, clutching a hand to the neckline of her top. ‘Too much?’

  ‘No, no you look gorgeous,’ said Bella. ‘Far too good for Todd.’ She shot him a sarcastic look. ‘Hopefully you can ditch him as soon as you get there and find someone better.’

  Sophie got the distinct impression there was a definite warning in her words but she wasn’t sure quite who they were directed at.

  ‘Charming,’ said Todd, taking her arm. ‘Shall we go before my lovely shrewish cous reduces my ego to a pile of dust?’

  Onyx was everything it sounded – a smart, super-sophisticated bar and restaurant – and Sophie was mighty glad she’d put on the blue top. There was a very good-looking, chiselled-cheeked doorman at the entrance, dressed in an immaculately cut charcoal-grey suit, checking names off a list with icy disdain. From the moment they were ushered inside, it was five-star treatment all the way.

  ‘I’m not sure about the black champagne,’ she whispered, holding up her glass flute. ‘It’s a clever idea but it doesn’t look that appetising to me. Champagne is best left alone.’ She took a sip and swirled it around her mouth before wrinkling her nose. She preferred her champagne unadulterated. ‘If you’re going to muck about with it, you’d be better off doing it with cava or prosecco, which doesn’t have the same yeasty bite.’

  ‘It certainly makes a statement,’ said Todd. ‘What do you think is in it?’ He peered into his glass with comical distrust, which made Sophie laugh before she took a hesitant si
p.

  ‘Not squid ink, thank goodness. Probably just food colouring.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here with me.’

  Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden serious tone in his voice and when she raised her eyes to meet his, they were for once rather solemn and steady. A flush heated her skin as they stared at each other, and quite unaccountably her knees suddenly felt weak. It was a relief when, with a swallow, he broke eye-contact and added, ‘That’s the sort of detail I need for my notes. And I’m going to need your expertise when we eat, as I suspect the food is going to be horribly over-complicated.’

  He led the way into the semi-dark interior, towards the restaurant area on the mezzanine floor. ‘Although it won’t matter because we probably won’t be able to see it.’ Suddenly she was rather glad it was so dark and he’d missed her blush.

  Todd snagged another glass of champagne for her at the top of the stairs as they entered the restaurant, where they were shown to a table in the corner overlooking the bar below. Before picking up the menu, he took a couple of pictures of the restaurant and the bar, already packed with lots of very beautiful people.

  ‘What do you think of the décor?’ he asked, tucking his phone away, glancing up at the ceiling, where tiny LED lights shone from polished black stalactites.

  Sophie nodded, trying to pick a few diplomatic phrases. ‘It’s very … smart.’ And very black.

  As she shifted in her seat, the unforgiving sharp metal edge of one of the legs caught her shin. ‘Interesting cutlery.’ She picked up the heavy bronze knife, with its agate handle. It was a bit too gothic for her but everyone else seemed to be raving about the place. ‘Clever concept. Onyx like the stone, hence the black and metal accents.’

  Todd’s lips twitched as he studied her gravely for a minute. He leaned over and whispered loudly, ‘It’s terrible.’

  Sophie giggled and picked up her champagne flute.

  ‘Vampire nest meets goblin lair. I need one of those head-torch things. The interior designer must have had a taste bypass.’

  ‘It’s different.’

  ‘Different doesn’t make it nice. I suppose we’d better check out the menu, although if there are any lizard tongues, bat wings or hairs of newt, we are going straight to the Wendy’s down the road for a burger.’

  He picked up the menu. ‘Hmm, not as bad as I feared but you’re going to have to translate. What the hell is wild garlic and cockle velouté, when it’s at home? Langoustine custard? Smoked florets of cauliflower? I’m not sure I want to put any of this stuff anywhere near my mouth.’

  Sophie read the menu with rising dismay. It was everything she disliked on a menu. Fancy for fancy’s sake. The descriptions of the dishes contained all of her top pet hates, from the pea mousse and basil foam through to the unappetising-sounding sorrel sorbet and morel essence, but despite that she believed you should always try everything at least once.

  ‘For goodness’ sake! Seriously, Sophie, what is this? Verrine of a julienne of prosciutto, rosemary gelée, foraged mushroom emulsion, topped with a potato and parmesan galette?’

  ‘Ssh, you’ll upset the chef.’ She could see a man in whites, wandering from table to table. ‘A verrine is a clear glass. So it’s all those things stacked inside it.’ She took a long sip of champagne, grateful that the second flute had not been doctored with colouring.

  Todd frowned, widening his eyes at her. ‘Julienne is strips of something, so I take it that’s strips of prosciutto. Rosemary gelée sounds disgusting. The galette I could live with, but seriously – foraged mushroom anything? You’re not telling me that the kitchen team here were out this morning foraging for fungi anywhere near here?’

  Sophie sniggered at the wrong moment and started giggling, almost choking on her drink.

  ‘Hand-reared kobo beef on a bed of hand-selected slices of onions. What were they going to do, pick them up with their teeth? Who writes this tosh?’

  She really had the giggles now and had to put down her drink. Todd was on a roll.

  ‘Toothsome chicken combined with … sharks are toothsome, chickens aren’t.’

  ‘Stop … enough.’ She had to work hard to school her face when the waiter came to take their order. Of course Todd was perfectly polite.

  ‘I’ll take the seared turbot with the wild garlic and cockle velouté, followed by the chicken. And a bottle of the Pouilly Fume.’

  ‘And for you, ma’am?’

  Deliberately not looking at Todd in case he set her off again, she opted for the shrimp and caviar with langoustine custard followed by the kobo beef, with pea foam, carrot emulsion and batter soufflé and red-wine jus. ‘Although I have no idea what batter soufflé is, that one has me stumped.’

  When the food arrived, both plates looked like Jackson Pollock works of art with smears of this and that across the china.

  ‘I’m expecting you to take notes,’ said Todd, poking nervously at the cockles on his plate.

  Sophie dipped a spoon into the tiny pot of langoustine custard which was more like a jelly. A large prawn wobbled on top, shaking tiny eggs of caviar like confetti around it. ‘Mmm, not bad. It’s like a very rich shellfish consommé that’s thickened up. Tasty but you couldn’t eat too much of it. The shrimp’s delicious. Here, try some.’ She scooped up a portion of the custard and the tail end of the prawn and offered it to him.

  ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘It’s good for your food education. You need to constantly challenge your palate.’

  ‘I think I’m plenty well educated. I’ve dined in Paris a time or two and I promise you, my palate was well and truly challenged in the backstreets of Cambodia.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve never been there.’

  ‘What’s the best meal you’ve ever eaten, then?’ asked Todd, tilting his head, watching her after she’d described an amazing paella she’d had in Barcelona one summer and how she’d stalked the chef and spent the next day in his kitchen learning how to make it. The sudden switch to serious again and being the focus of his attention made her feel light-headed.

  ‘That’s impossible.’ Sophie smiled dreamily at him as she leaned back in her chair, to give it some thought. In the last half hour they’d shared so many tales of their travels and food experiences. Todd was widely travelled and had plenty of stories to tell, as well as some fascinating insights into the places he’d been.

  ‘Why?’ His teasing smile did funny things to her pulse.

  ‘A meal is the sum of many things, not simply the food. It’s the atmosphere, who you’re with, the memories you create. There’s a special warmth about the perfect meal, a sum of all the right things coming together. This, for example, is superb food, but …’ she lifted her shoulders, not wanting to sound ungrateful, ‘the ambience … the atmosphere, it’s not quite right … well, not to me.’

  ‘What about the company?’ asked Todd, suddenly very still, as if the answer was important.

  Nerves shimmered as Sophie looked back at him, unsure what to say. Was Todd flirting with her? She smoothed down the silk of her top, glad she’d made an effort to look nice this evening. Who was she kidding? Since the first day she’d met him her hormones had been clamouring to get to know him better. Little traitors. He was everything that James and Paul weren’t. A complication in life she really didn’t need, but when he looked at her like that … she sighed.

  ‘The company’s not bad at all.’ She smiled at him and his fingers brushed over her hand on the table in response, just as the waiter arrived with the second course.

  ‘Is that it?’ whispered Todd as the waiter left, having deposited the plates with a flourish. ‘They’re kidding, a snail has more meat on it than this.’

  ‘Shh,’ said Sophie, trying not to giggle at the mournful display on his face. Although the tiny cube of beef on her plate wasn’t exactly generous.

  Todd poked at the pea foam. ‘Are you going to eat that? It looks like green spittlebug foam.’

  ‘I’m guessing that’s what we�
��d call cuckoo spit at home, white foam on plants made by insects.’

  ‘That’s the one. Why would you want to eat anything that looks like insect spittle?’

  ‘Now you’ve completely put me off,’ said Sophie, pointing her knife at him severely.

  ‘And that orange stuff looks radioactive.’

  ‘It’s carrot emulsion.’ Although it did glisten rather a lot.

  ‘And what’s the wrinkled thing?’

  Sophie grinned at him and scooped up one of the two tiny cooked rounds of batter with a touch of the jus and half of the cube of beef and groaned. ‘That, my friend, is what we call back home, roast beef, Yorkshire pud and gravy. And it’s delicious.’

  Todd, having polished off his own chicken dish in about five mouthfuls, then helped himself to the other Yorkshire pudding and the rest of the beef.

  ‘Oi,’ she tapped his hand. ‘That was mine.’

  ‘I need to try it for my food education.’ Mischief danced all over his face. ‘But you’re right, that Yorkshire stuff is great. I’ve never had it before. Can you make it?’

  ‘Make it? I’m a Yorkshire girl, of course I can.’

  ‘Great, when I come to dinner? You can cook for me.’

  ‘You’re coming to dinner?’

  Todd grinned at her. ‘You can’t tell a man all about the most divine paella you ever ate, say you’ve researched how to make it yourself and then not invite him to dinner.’

  ‘I probably can,’ she teased.

  ‘You’re a hard woman. I’ll buy the wine.’

  Sophie tipped her head to one side. She missed cooking. It wasn’t always worth it for herself. She missed cooking for other people.

  ‘Alright then, I’ll cook you paella one night after work.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he rubbed his stomach in mock anticipation and then looked down at his empty plate. ‘I hope the desserts are bigger. I’m still hungry.’

  Sophie had to agree with him.

  Dessert, delicious as it was, consisted of thumbnail portions of white-chocolate, coffee and dark-chocolate mousse dusted with edible gold leaf, which both of them polished off within seconds. Todd sighed heavily as he laid down the heavy teaspoon.