“No problem!” The guy behind the counter smiled cheerfully and picked up a pair of silver tongs. Pearl sugar rained down on the glass shelf with a pattering sound as he selected a bun.
“What kind of coffee do you have?” Henrik asked.
“Filter and latte,” Nora replied. “We can do a cappuccino too.”
“I mean, what kind of beans do you go for?”
“We use Gevalia medium roast, but Espresso House across the street has different kinds, Golden Estate Fantastic and Very Good Arabica and Limited Edition Extended Wholesome Dark Brew, maybe Royal Luxury Brilliant Brazilian Chestnut Deluxe, too, if you’re in luck, so feel free to head over there if you want more choices.”
Henrik gazed at her in silence, suppressing the urge to ask if she thought she was being funny, and then he gave a small sigh and went over to get himself a cup of coffee. He chose the fullest pot and filled a blue earthenware cup to the brim. He returned to the table as Hassan brought over a golden-brown cinnamon bun with plenty of pearl sugar left on it. Henrik sat down, blew gently on the coffee, then tasted it. The cup felt rough against his lips. He was expecting the familiar taste of tannin, but the flavor was smooth, rounded.
“Good coffee.” He met Nora’s gaze.
“You sound surprised. Medium roast is seriously underappreciated.”
“Bad coffee is unfortunately the norm.” He took a bite of the bun, which was—delicious. It had a buttery filling, crisp bottom, and soft, moist dough that wasn’t too chewy. Cinnamon buns could sometimes be too much; you didn’t want to feel you’d eaten a greasy sandwich overflowing with filling. This one was kind of on the big side, though.
“Nice bun. But cut down on the size.”
She stared at him, clearly offended. Then she fixed her eyes on a point somewhere above his head, before looking around the café.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m just wondering where the TV crew is. I didn’t realize the recording had started.”
He said nothing, unmoved by her sarcasm.
“You’ve just launched straight into it with comments and advice I haven’t asked for, so I assume the show is underway.”
“I don’t know if Elnaz told you how it works, but tomorrow some of our team will be here to carry out research and eat their way through your breads and cakes, looking for things I can focus on. That’s how theshow works—I come up with suggestions for things you could change, so you’d better get used to having your bakes reviewed by me.”
“Mmm... The thing is, my customers want large cinnamon buns.”
“Smaller cakes are on trend right now, people are tired of buns and muffins as big as saucers. They’re just vulgar. My family company cut down on the size of the buns we sell in our shop, because customers were complaining that they were too big.”
“I assume you haven’t cut down on the price?”
This show is going to be anything but straightforward,Henrik thought.
“Anyway, that’s not how I work.” Nora folded her arms.
“Okay, so how do you work? As I understand it, this place isn’t doing too well, so maybe you haven’t got it all figured out.”
“The last few years have been a bit slow, but business will pick up. I don’t need your help.”
He put down the bun and met her gaze. “So why did you apply to be on the show if you’re getting along fine on your own?”
She glanced out the window, then back at him. “I won’t stand for you making me look stupid. It might work with other participants, but I’m not having it.”
He looked searchingly at her. “Can I ask a question? Do you even want to be on the show?”
Her expression was one of irritation, even hostility, but then she softened. Sighed. “To be honest, no, I don’t. Who really wants to take part in your show?”
“Lots of people, actually—we receive hundreds of applications, and the Christmas special is even more popular.”
After a brief silence, she said, “I just don’t want to be portrayed as an idiot on national TV.” She took a deep breath. “It was my friend who applied on my behalf, but ...” Another sigh. “I accept that the publicity will give me the chance to fix a few things.”
He nodded. “I appreciate your honesty, but if you don’t want to do it, there are plenty of others who would be only too happy to step in.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Unfortunately I don’t have timeto sit here trying to convince a baker who’s down on their luck to take part in my show. All we have to do is call the next person in line.” He slammed down his cup.
