“Mm,” he says. “I see what you mean. The transition is a little harsh.”
“Yeah. I’ve tried every ratio that I can think of. Tweaking it down to the literal drop, and it’s still not working.”
He smiles. “I know that I’m not the flavor creator, but can I try something?”
“At this point I’m desperate,” I say. “So yes. Feel free.”
Tristan has spent enough time around me in the lab at this point that he knows where things are kept and the basic procedures. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he comes back around and looks at the latest formula in the computer. One of the best things about this lab is the flavor machine. It has extracts of almost every flavor imaginable, and if it doesn’t have it, we can get it.
It also has an interface where you can arrange the flavors, so it puts together the formula in a molecular pattern so that it hits the way you want it to. And then it will spit it out.
Sometimes I start with mixing flavors by hand while I’m in the initial experimentation phase. It’s fun to get my hands dirty a little bit, and it’s faster.
Tristan doesn’t make too many changes from what I can see, but when I try to look at what he’s doing he just smiles and slides his body so I can’t see the screen. I roll my eyes and grab a drink of water. I sit down at my desk to wait, and it doesn’t take long.
“There,” he declares. “I want to see how that tastes, but if it doesn’t work, I won’t be offended. It’s just an idea.”
“I’m sure it will be great.”
He leans back against the lab table. “Probably not, but at least it gives me an excuse to be in here with you.”
I smile, but I’m starting to feel the exhaustion that’s come with this week. Working on this—and some of the other experimental flavors I’m developing for our expansion—and staying late with Tristan is starting to wear. I wouldn’t take it back for the world, but I’m tired.
And it’s the fact that nobody knows that’s the problem. If people knew, I could just go home with Tristan and we wouldn’t have to work so hard to find time together. I’ve got to tell my dad soon. I have to. I think that he’ll understand. You can’t help what your heart wants, and I want Tristan with everything that I have in me.
“I have a question for you,” Tristan says.
“Sure.”
“You like this job, right?”
I nod. “I really do. Why?”
“I don’t remember this being what you wanted to do.”
“Well, I never really had a solid plan for a dream job. I wanted culinary school, so that’s what I did. And that’s perfect training for this, and it’s so much fun.”
He looks at me in that way he has. The way that tells me he knows that I’m not saying everything. “But?”
I press my lips together without saying anything. There are a lot of thoughts that have been brewing in my head since he’s been back, and I haven’t fully thought through everything. This is dangerous territory that we’re in.
“What’s your favorite thing to cook?”
“I don’t have a favorite thing,” I say, “because my cooking is a lot like this. I love to experiment until I get the perfect result, and then I write it down. I love to cook for people because it’s always a little different, and you get to have that journey with them, whether or not it’s good or bad.”
He nods. “That’s why you like the focus groups.”
“Exactly.”
“But in this setting I imagine you don’t get nearly as much a reaction to your creations as you would like.”
“That’s not true,” I say, immediately protesting. “We get a lot of really lovely letters from people. And some not-so-lovely letters too.”
Tristan crosses his arms. “You and I both know that that’s not the same.”
I sigh, taking another sip of water. “What are you getting at? It’s not exactly like you to beat around the bush.”
“I just want to know if you’re happy here.”
I’m not sure that this is a path that I want to go down right now, but I take a couple seconds to think about it. I definitely enjoy my job, and not everyone can say that. That’s a good thing. But am I happy? Sure. “I’m happy enough. I like being here with you.”
Tristan just cocks his head. “What does that mean?”
“I mean…” I sigh. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about this too much, so I’m struggling with the words. I do like my job, and I do like the work I do. But now that you’re here, and now that this might actually happen…” I trail off, not sure where I’m going but choosing to push forward anyway. “I feel really lucky that I was in a position to have this opportunity. But I might have been looking for a reason to stay in Leighton City.”