Peter grabbed her by the hand. “No, Kate, wait. I'm sorry.” He pulled her back into her seat.

She sat, crossing her arms.

“Look,” he said, “John Wells is the guy you have to convince, right? So maybe if you just concentrate on what he likes you'll find something to land on.

Look at his background, where he came from, why he started the company.”

“Maybe. But he seems more cowhand than chemist to me.”

“He may look that way, but he's a sharp guy. Graduated third in his class at

Iowa State.”

“Well then, we're back to how do I relate to chemicals again.”

Peter stood. “I think part of the problem is you need to get reacquainted with

the wonderful world of science. Come with me into the lab.” He stood.

Kate, getting up with a sigh, followed him to a long black table. “Okay, but

you're asking a lot from an art geek.”

“Don't worry. I'm Science Teacher of the Year, remember? Okay, let's start with the basics.”

* * *

An hour later and Kate felt like her brain was going to melt.

“Well, that's close,” Peter was saying, “but remember, a mole is a unit quantity. A molecule is a group of atoms.”

Kate threw her hands up in frustration. “Okay, I'm done. I don't suppose you've got anything in here that can change whatever's in this glass into wine.”

She pointed to a beaker of liquid next to the sink.

“Oh, c'mon—you shouldn't give up so easily.”

“You shouldn't underestimate the value of wine.”

Peter shook his head. “Remember the old chemistry joke: Alcohol is not the

problem…it's the solution.”

“Okay, first—really? Chemistry has jokes? And second—I totally don't get

it.”

Peter frowned. “Strange…that one always knocks'em dead at our incredibly

exciting chemistry conventions.”

Kate made a face.

“The joke is, ethanol is a pure substance, but the alcohol we drink is always

a mixture of things—like grapes or water and alcohol—so technically it's a solution.”

“Wow. That's so…not funny.”

Peter nodded, left side of his mouth curling up. “Yeah, you kinda have to be

a chemistry geek, I guess.”

Kate put both hands on the table. “If you can tell by my face and its utter lack of expression, I'm not laughing. And I don't think this is getting me any closer to a solution—and if you make another solution joke, I will hit you with

whatever this bottle is called.”

“What I'm trying to show you is that there is an art, even a beauty to chemistry. It's what makes up the world. Like, when you paint a painting, you use different colors, right?”

“Sure.”

“Well, everything we are, our bodies, this chair, is made up of molecules, of

chemicals, each combining in different ways to make something greater.”

She cocked her head. “Wow, Peter. That was actually…poetic.”

“Yeah, I kind of surprised myself there, too.”

Kate rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. She felt exhausted, and it wasn't even late.

“Say,” Peter said. “I don't have any bottles of Chardonnay stashed in the classroom, but how about some dinner sometime?”

Kate stood. She'd enjoyed her time with Peter, but all this science stuff had

drained the life out of her. And she knew the clock was ticking on this project.

“Thanks, but I'd better get back to work. I've got a proposal to present back in Chicago next week.”

She wasn't sure if his shoulders had drooped. “Sure, right. I suppose we won't be seeing you around much anymore?”

She wasn't sure herself. What if this meeting this week went poorly? What if

they yanked her from the project and put someone else in? She felt a twinge shoot through her stomach. “I think I should be back, if all goes well with my ideas.”

He nodded. “Good. I mean, it's been good seeing you again.”

She gathered her things. “You too,” she said, mustering a smile. “and thanks