“I received the papers, Aubrey. Thank you.”
She twisted her hands together. “You know that once you sign these last ones, everything is…final.”
It had actually been final for a while. The papers were merely a formality. But I guessed that she, like Leon, was still struggling to process my departure.
“I know, Aubrey. Thank you.” Her lips stayed flat as I angled past her.
It was a new experience having the worried frowns of my coworkers directed at me.
Staying on with TremMark would have been the safe choice, the expected choice, so of course I’d raised eyebrows when I turned it down. That was why I waited until this morning to make my decision widely known. I’d only told Jason, Brad, and the TremMark executives a few months ago, asking them to maintain discretion. We’d all agreed it would be better to avoid giving folks more time to speculate about my leaving.
The last thing I wanted was for my decision to cause concern that something was wrong with this buyout, or that I didn’t support it. I honestly believed the acquisition would give the vital work being done at JBC a better chance to flourish. With additional money and access to resources and top talent, the science could progress more quickly.
Forty feet away, I caught the eye of TremMark’s chief science and technology officer, Graham Turner. He gave me a chin lift and began walking over.
Graham had been great throughout the entire process even though he seemed sorely disappointed when I told his team I would not be accepting their offer to stay on.
“Everyone keeps sneaking glances at you like you’re a celebrity, but they’re trying to play it cool.” He smirked. “Guess it’s to be expected now that you’ve finally clued people in on your plans.”
I sighed. “Pretty sure they’re worried I’ve been body snatched by aliens who forced me to turn down the job with you guys.”
“Is that what happened?” he teased. “Because I will fight some little green men if it means you’ll reconsider.”
I laughed and, not for the first time, noticed how attractive Graham was, with his artfully floppy dirty-blond hair and tall, gym-honed physique. He had a great personality, too. He’d charmed the support staff at JBC with his sharp wit and dry humor, helping to ease the transition for everyone. But even though he was single, I’d never been able to think of him inmore than a professional capacity. I wished I could because he was certainly what most women would consider a catch. The chemistry just wasn’t there.
“You don’t need to punch out any aliens. I assure you, this decision was all me.”
He nodded, and an admiring look crossed his features. “I understand where your employees are coming from. You surprised me as well, Cori, and that doesn’t happen very often. I’d heard you were the sensible one at JBC, so I figured you’d be the first to jump on board with us, as opposed to that duo over there.” He gestured to Jason and Brad, who laughed loudly as they watched something on Brad’s phone.
“Those guys are actually pretty cool.” I defended my colleagues. “And they’re very good at what they do.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Graham spoke genuinely. “I sense the brilliance beneath theZeldahoodies. We’re expecting great things. But that doesn’t mean we won’t miss you.”
“Thank you.”
“If you ever change your mind, the offer remains on the table. There will always be a place for you at TremMark.” Graham ran a palm through his hair, and I imagined aswooshsound as it fell perfectly back into place. “You have my number.” He shook my hand, holding it as he added in a low voice, “I’d love to hear from you.”
My breathing hitched. Was he flirting? I couldn’t tell. This was what happened when you went more than a year without getting laid.
“About the job?” I blurted.
His cheek ticked. “Sure. You can call me anytime…about the job.” He squeezed my fingers lightly before stepping away to speak to someone else.
Nowthatdefinitely felt like flirting. Too bad I still didn’t feel a spark.
I resumed my taco mission, finally reaching the third table.
Except… These were… What?
I grabbed one of the little square plates and stared. A whitish circle rested in the center, its texture mooshy and gelatinous. It was the same thickness as a tortilla, but not like any I’d ever seen. A square of something meat-like sat atop it. There was a halved grape tomato in one corner, and a green sauce smeared across another. I looked up at the server in confusion.
“It’s a taco,” she said with about the same level of conviction I felt. I peered at the plate again as she continued, “It’s, uh, like, deconstructed. A pressed cauliflower tortilla with seasoned tempeh, tomato, and avocado crema. Vegan and gluten-free.”
I smiled tightly.
My brain conjured a memory of sitting on the steps of the Center eating Rosa’s tacos. Little corn tortillas filled with spicy carnitas and topped with radishes and lime. They’d been so juicy I’d had to hunch over, balancing a paper plate on my lap while keeping a wad of napkins handy. I shook my head at the recollection.
This was what I couldn’t explain to Aubrey or Leon. Jason or Brad or Graham. Or the dozens of other employees who kept sending anxious glances my way. I’d spent over a decade trying to be the kind of person who could imagine smooshed cauliflower when I saw the word “taco.” But I wasn’t a foodie. I wasn’t many of the things people assumed I was.
