Chapter 34
Clark
“He’s not here,” Delmar says, standing in my office doorway.
“I can see that.” I don’t look up from my sketch.
The Tinom have narrowed the bids for their new design down to two.
Hershaw and me. He’s the one who designed the swirl of a sea slug’s slime that is the new kindergarten dome for Permula.
It’s pink and black and twists up from the base like frosting on a podlet’s cake.
Fun, they call it—inventive, a new wave of ingenuity.
It’s a blue whale carcass filled with rotten shrimp shells.
Hershaw isn’t a visionary; he’s a hack. Coming up with new gimmicks.
What’s next, a dome in the shape of a hedge-tot for a teenage podlet center, because they like hedge-tots?
I put down my tablet pen, glare at Delmar. “He’ll be here soon.” I cock my chin at Delmar.
“I don’t know how to bake,” he says.
“I don’t either.”
“You cook. Your papa is a chef.”
“He’s a chef, not a baker. And I’m not him. But we can follow a recipe. How hard can it be?” The waves of my papa talking to my other fathers float around me. Cooking is an art; baking is chemistry. “When is she coming?”
“An hour.”
“Has Rodgers gone?”
“An hour ago. Forrest told him to go home. I was grading essays in the living room when he left.”
“We’ll figure it out. It’s not about the end product. It’s about having fun with Blair. Letting her get to know us.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You’re afraid of fun?” I smile.
“No, you are. I’m afraid of her getting to know us too well.” Still leaning against my doorframe, Delmar crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’m not afraid of fun, and there’s nothing wrong with us. And the fact that you think there is . . .”
“There’s nothing wrong with us as individuals, but together?”
“I see your point.” I stand. “Did Rodgers give you the recipe before he left?”
“I wasn’t in the kitchen. Grading essays in the—”
“Right, well an hour’s enough time for Zion to get his fluke home.” I pick up my block to message him.
“I’ve messaged him three times.” Delmar straightens and holds out his block with the unread messages.
“Right, I’ll try his assistant . . . What’s his name again? Odin? Borey, that’s it.”
“Borey? Are you serious? Who would name their podlet Borey? Though I did have a student named Orca a few years back. He went by Or instead.”
I blink at Delmar. Because I don’t know what he’s going on about.
“Boden Haccini lives on the third floor with his pod and three podlets: Archer, Owen, and Jasper. I think they’re expecting another podlet soon.”
“How in the hell do you remember all this?”
“I just do. It’s part of my job. Remembering people. Students, their parents, the siblings of the students I didn’t have or haven’t had yet. The grandparents. It’s just something I have to do. Like how I’m sure you know who designed every dome and when every dome went up in the city.”
“Right, I do.” I scroll through a directory of Stele and find the contact for Boden Haccini. “I’ll message Boden.”
“I’m doing it now. I should have done it myself. I had Archer just last year. I spent extra time after school helping him get his mathematics up to grade level.” Delmar’s fingers speed across his block, and he slides it back into his pocket. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”
“All right.” I stare down at my sketch. We’re not a bad pod. And then I glance back to where Delmar had been standing. We’re not a bad pod? I turn back to my desk. But maybe Delmar’s right.
I’m back at the sketches for the bid of the Tinom dome, but my focus is gone.
I’m thinking about Blair. I check my block, and there’s no message from Zion.
I message Delmar about Zion’s assistant, and he says nothing yet.
Even though it’s only a few minutes before Blair’s supposed to get here.
I thought I’d work and then come and help eat whatever horrible confectionary Zion and Blair made.
I head down the corridor into the empty living room. “Hello?” This damn apartment is too big. Even for the seven of us, there’s no need . . . What would Blair want? Minimalist or an apartment full of artifacts like that of my anthropologist aunt?
I’m down the side corridor to the kitchen before I hear anything. “Hello?”
“We’re in here, Clark,” Forrest says.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask.
“Grayson’s at the hospital,” Delmar says. “There’s something going on about the pod-raised female podlets today. Alexei’s teaching an afternoon class. Sterling should be coming with Blair, and Zion better show up soon. This was his idea. And he’s the one who scheduled it during working hours.”
“Why are you home?” I ask Forrest.
“King Atlas canceled the governors’ session today to go to a presentation at the hospital.
I’m supposed to be there too. This is more important.
” Forrest nods to the counter where he’s collected flour and some other containers.
There’s a sheepish grin on his face. “I haven’t missed a single meeting in fifteen years.
Not one. That’s got to stop. I want this thing with Blair to work out.
But if it doesn’t, I need more. I’ve been a servant to the citizens of Stele for a long time. ”
“Are you going to resign?” I ask.
“Resign? I didn’t say that.”
“There’s a big difference between taking one day off and resigning! Also does it even qualify as a day off if your meeting was cancelled?” Delmar puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Exactly,” Forrest adds.
“Okay . . . okay.” I hold my hands up. “Any word back from Zion or his assistant yet?”
“Boden,” Forrest says. “Brilliant idea, asking him.”
Delmar smirks at me.
“What? I’m a building person. You two are people persons.”
Delmar looks at his block. “No, not yet.”
“Well, I’m not baking. That’s a recipe for—”
“Not a disaster, I hope,” Blair says. She’s wearing a purple tunic with golden flowing pants. She has a lighter purple sweater over her arm. And there’s a swirl of lavender scent around her.
Delmar’s at her side the second she steps into the kitchen. “Blair! I’m so happy to see you. You look lovely.”
She looks like she’s trying too hard, but yes, she does look lovely.
When you’re born in a dome, it becomes second nature to see your dome colors over and over again.
So much so that you tend to not notice them after a while.
In Stele, your closet is full of purple and yellow, Permula—pink, white, and black, Glyden—gold and blue.
Zaffiro? You get two shades of blue and that’s it.
“You’re wearing Stele’s colors, Blair. Thank you.” Forrest puffs up and kisses both of her cheeks.
I step in. My heart thumps against my chest as I hold her blue eyes.
The room goes silent. Her lavender scent reminds me of the macrons I had the last time I was in Paris.
Her braids are different than the last time she was here.
More elaborate, more Dorian, and I’m not sure if I like it or not.
Her rawness, I suppose, rather than her humanness that makes her Blair, that’s the part that doesn’t come across as strong today.
I cup the side of her face with my hand and run my thumb down her jaw.
“It’s lovely to see you in any color.” I bow my head and kiss her lips.
It’s a soft kiss. When her hand lands on my chest, my other hand moves to her back.
It doesn’t take much of a tug to get her flush against me.
Our tongues mingle, and when she pulls back with her dilated eyes, I’m about to sweep the bins of flour onto the floor and place her on the counter, but she laughs.
“I’m sorry. We came barging in. But Hunter said Sterling gave him the order to. I hope that’s okay. Hunter was nervous either way.”
“Hunter?” Forrest asks. “Sterling didn’t bring you here?”
“No. Hunter picked me up. Sterling has . . . Sterling is caught up with other responsibilities; that’s what Hunter said.”
“Really?” Delmar says.
Blair nods once. Though there’s a wince on her face that gives me pause.
It’s been three days since I’ve seen her, though it feels like a lot more.
I’m trying to remember when I saw Sterling last. Dinner two nights ago, for a brief moment before he took his plate and vanished into his office.
Was he his normal grumpy self? Or did I miss something?
He might have been crankier than usual, but it’s hard to tell.
“It’s lovely to see you, Blair. And it’s fine. You don’t even need to knock. Right?” I ask Delmar and Forrest.
“Of course, please make yourself at home,” Forrest says.
“Yes, please.” Delmar moves to her side. “We’re happy you’re here.”
“I’m ready to get to work.” Blair places her sweater on an empty chair, then places her hands on the counter.
“We have something for you first.” Delmar opens a basket next to the mishmash pile of ingredients. “Te-do,” he says and pulls out a purple apron with her name on it and hands it to her.
She looks at him, her eyes glossy, and then she breaks out into laughter.
“Is it not te-do? Alexei said that’s what you say when you surprise someone.”
“It’s ta-da. But that was really close. This is perfect. I love it. Thank you.” She pulls Delmar in for a hug, which turns into a kiss.
When they pull apart, Delmar’s blushing. “I’m glad you like it. I have others.” He ducks his head into the basket and roots around.
Blair holds it up, looking at it. “Would you put it on for me?” she asks me.
I hold out my hand and take it from her. She spins, facing Delmar, his head still in the basket.
“There’s not that many of us,” Forrest says to him.
I put it over her head and pull the ties around her front, my arms caging her in an embrace, my lips inches away from the bare skin below her ear. A shiver rakes over her, and goosebumps rise on her forearms. I cinch the tie of the apron in the front and secure it with a bow.
Her hand covers mine, her fingers dipping and tracing into mine. I’m hard.
“Here’s your apron, Clark.” Forrest holds out a gold apron with my name embroidered on it in purple.
I give Blair’s neck a quick kiss, and she steps out of my arms. My eyes flash at Forrest. This isn’t a real cooking lesson, I project over to him, and he nods once. Though I’m not sure he really understands. He can be rather literal, our governor. Blair’s eyes flash at me—at least she gets it.
“Here, let me put it on for you.” Blair takes it from Forrest. Her delicate fingers slide the loop over my head, and when she hugs me from behind to tie the strap around the front, I lean back into her.
And when her nimble fingers tie the bow around my waist, I place my hands on top of hers, enjoying the tight hug she gives me.
“Thank you.” I spin around in her arms and pull her closer. I’m about to kiss Blair when Forrest clears his throat.
“We need to get—” Forrest stops with a grunt.
Blair laughs. “I’m looking forward to making some cookies. But where’s the master baker?”
“We’re not sure. We’ve—”
“He’s on his way.” This time it’s Forrest who cuts off Delmar.
The way I’m holding Blair, she can’t see my face. I raise my eyebrow at Forrest in question, and his cheek twitches. It’s his tell. He doesn’t know anything about Zion’s whereabouts.
“Oh, well,” she says, “we should be able to figure this out and get started before he shows up. What a surprise he’ll have.”
“Or we could wait,” I say, leaning down and giving her another kiss. When I pull back, I can hear the rapid beat of her heart, like a predator with his prey.
“I suppose that would be the polite thing to do,” Blair says.
“You are a very polite female, aren’t you, Blair?” Delmar steps to her side.
“I try to be.”
I take her hand and lead her out of the kitchen.