She rested her chin in her hand, looking out the rain-spattered front window
of the diner, past the curling pages of pancake-breakfast notices and missing-cat
posters. Out to the city park, where the old cannon stood in a flower bed of orange and yellow mums. Somewhere out there was a great solution in
someone's brain, but it sure wasn't hers.
She returned to her shake, took a hard sip from the straw, then stood. She had never had a problem coming up with the artistic ideas, but how anything to
do with chemicals could be anything but a vat of swirling brown sludge was eluding her.
She thought about calling Danni, telling her they were wrong. That she was
wrong for the job. They should bring in someone else before she completely blew this account.
Maybe she could come up with something to at least keep this lame train rolling. That elusive angle, that basic foundation to build on, the core of what made Nitrovex unique. Okay, stop and think. Picture the essence of the product
and let the ideas flow.
She closed her eyes. Her brain could only picture a tangle of endless white
pipes nested amongst a sea of meaningless tanks, all backed by the deafening soundtrack of the crushing hum of machinery.
The essence? Let's see, boredom? Dullness? The futility of man's struggle
against the inevitable clutching fingers of death?
She shook her head. What she needed was the perspective of someone who
loved this stuff. Someone who appreciated caustic potash and hexafluoro-
whatevers. She sighed. Someone with a crooked smile and understanding,
stupidly blue eyes.
Someone who had just walked through the front door of Ray's.
* * *
“Kate, hi,” Peter said, ambling over.
Hi, yourself. She gave a little wave, he hesitated at her table.
“Okay if I sit?”
“Sure,” she nodded, her mouth dry. She took a sip of her shake, realizing it
probably looked huge to him, the metal container and glass both loaded up. “I was, uh, going to save some for Carol. For later,” she lied.
He slid into the booth, crooked smile and all, and she lost her appetite. Okay,
tough girl, here's your chance. Ask him.
“What brings you in?” she said. Wrong question, her brain barked at her.
He scanned the room, then glanced at his watch. “I was supposed to meet Lucius here at three for coffee. He called and said he had something to go over
with me.” His eyes returned to hers. “I'm beginning to wonder if he's going to show.”
She smiled the same smile she used for selfies. Fake. She cleared her throat.
“Oh, well, then since you're here and all, I was kind of wondering if maybe you
might be able to help me out with something.” Smooth segue, genius.
He leaned forward, smile still working its magic. “Sure thing. What can I do?”
There's a loaded question. “It's this Nitrovex project. All of the chemistry terms, the flocculants and stuff.” She fluttered her fingers. “I think I got a C plus in chemistry in high school, if that.” She normally didn't do the damsel in distress routine, but she was desperate for a breakthrough. She tried batting her
eyelashes as helplessly as possible.
“Something in your eye?” he asked.
Eyelash bat fail. She rubbed her eye. “Just an eyelash. So, do you think you
can help me out?”
He nodded, eyes studying her. For a second she thought he was going to say
