Shuki shot her a curious look. “So how much did you tell her you charge?”
Sarale dug her fingers into the dough on Dini’s kitchen counter.
“This is so much fun, baking together! I feel like I’m back in seminary again.” She giggled.
Dini’s lips curled in amusement. When Sarale had called to ask if she could come over to schmooze, Dini had hesitated just long enough — running through her mental to-do list and wondering if she really wanted to give up yet another morning — for Sarale to add, “I know your time is precious. I’m happy to come, like, cook for Shabbos with you while we talk.”
Dini had barely restrained herself from laughing aloud. Who did Sarale think she was, a seminary teacher?
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