The Tea Room – Part 2: Cream First

Monday was baking day.

The kitchen was empty and warm, smelling of butter and yeast and baking sugar. Beth and Isaac stood side by side at the long marble counter, up to the elbows in flour. He showed her how to rub fat into flour with cool fingertips, how to cut with a fluted cutter, how to glaze with egg. She learned fast. Her scones rose tall and golden.

At noon, a tray of fresh scones came out of the oven, steaming, perfect. They stood over them, hands on hips.

"Now," said Beth.

"Now."

"Do it your way."

Isaac cut a scone, spread cream, topped with jam. He handed it over, solemn. She tasted. It was good: rich and soft, with a cool sweet tang.

"It's nice."

"It's right."

"It's nice."

"Now yours," said Isaac, with an air of steeling himself.

She spread jam, then cream, and held it out. He took it in two fingers, bit, and chewed slowly. His face changed, and went through three expressions in quick succession.

"Oh no," he said.

"Yes?"

"It's... it's better."

"Isaac!"

"It's the jam against the crumb. You taste it first." He put the scone down and covered his face with his hands. "My entire career."

Beth shrieked with laughter. She hugged him, with flour all over his apron, and he laughed too, a slow, wheezy, defeated laugh.

When they stopped, they were standing very close in the warm afternoon light, her hands against his chest.

"Can I ask you something?" said Beth.

"Yes."

"May I kiss the pastry chef?"

"Yes," said Isaac. "And if you say stop, you must tell the customers it was my idea."

"It was your idea."

"It was your jam."

She kissed him, warm and floury, a hand rising to his ginger beard. He kissed her back, tender and slightly sticky, tasting of sugar and strawberry. The oven ticked. A shaft of light fell across the marble.

When they parted, both of them were smiling.

"Green?" he asked.

"Green," said Beth. "Very green."

The menu now offers both. A note in the corner reads: Jam first, by popular demand. Cream first, by sentimental attachment.

More workplace romance stories: The Late Shift · Night Shift · The Personal Trainer