Turn up the Heat

what might happen!”
    Poor Kevin and Penelope had no idea what was about to hit them. I doubted that romance would bloom among smelly oils, but I crossed my fingers for Kevin anyway. He seemed like a good guy, if somewhat of a misfit. And spring was the time for romance! Could I even help to move things along at lunch tomorrow? I wrapped up my meeting with Naomi, got swaddled in another tight hug, and assured her that I’d see her tomorrow. With Eliot and Penelope, too, of course.
    I got in my car, flew down Commonwealth Avenue, and dropped off a term paper at school. After all the work I had put into it, I’d probably never see it again unless I flunked the course. In that case, someone would presumably get in touch with me. With a few hours to kill before the memorial service, I headed home to lie down and shake off the remains of my headache.
    The nap was a success. I awakened with the conviction that I just might make it through this thing. As I was changing into black clothes, I realized that people might be expected to speak at the event. I hurried to the computer, did a search for “funeral readings,” and printed out the ones that seemed most appropriate. I shoved the materials into the memorial book and took off.
    I reached the sidewalk outside Simmer at exactly three o’clock. The service would be blessedly short, because everyone present would have to finish preparations for dinner service, which started in a few hours. I took a deep breath and pulled open the front door. Oh, there was food! One could act appropriately mournful and yet enjoy a tasty treat at the same time. I knew what I was smelling, too. The wonderful aroma drifting my way came from Josh’s spring rolls. These weren’t on Simmer’s menu, but I’d tasted them when I’d first met Josh. His spring rolls, which were unlike any others I’d ever had, were made of oversized wonton skins filled with a mixture of fresh vegetables, roasted garlic, coriander, cumin, and other ingredients that he refused to reveal, even to me. But I did know that once filled, the spring rolls were deep-fried. I wondered what kind of sauce he’d serve with them today.
    All of Simmer’s employees seemed to be here, most of them seated at tables or leaning against the bar waiting for the big event. I walked toward the bar, where Josh and Snacker were talking together. “How are the hungover boys today?”
    “Ah, we’re good.” Snacker pounded his chest. “You know us chef types. Nothing knocks us down!”
    “I see you’re feeling fine.” I turned to Josh. “How are you, hon? Am I smelling what I think I’m smelling?” Snacker answered. “His stinky ass, you mean? Yes, you are, and you’d better get used to it!”
    Josh laughed and waved him off. “Don’t mind him. He’s still drunk. And you bet I made those spring rolls just for you. Come here.” Josh pulled me in for a kiss. “Food is love, baby.”
    “Then you must really love me.” I kissed him back.
    “Do you know they’re still making these at one of my old restaurants?”
    “What? How can they do that without you there anymore? It’s your recipe!” To my mind, Josh’s spring rolls were his signature dish. It appalled me to think of anyone else making them and taking credit for Josh’s genius.
    “There’s nothing I can do about it, because, technically, it became the restaurant’s recipe. But don’t worry, there’s no way they’re as good as mine because the recipe they have on file is missing a few things.” He gave a sneaky smile. “If they want to try to do what I do, let ’em.”
    Gavin stepped into the dining area, and the room quieted. “Would everyone please take a seat so we can begin.” He was dressed in a fashionable black suit and looked ready to walk the red carpet and give E! a stellar interview on his latest film.
    I quickly served myself a spring roll and sat down next to Josh at one of the dining room tables. Josh had made my favorite mango sauce to go with the spring rolls, and I greedily inhaled the mix of crunchy shredded vegetables and smoky spices. Blythe took the seat next to me, and Snacker sat next to her. I simply had to tell Josh that Blythe was stealing more than silverware and napkins from Simmer; she was stealing Wüsthof knives from him! I dreaded breaking the news. Josh was obviously under stress right now. Blythe’s betrayals would seriously tick him off. The moment that this memorial gathering ended, he’d rush off into the