Page 168 of A Taste of Vanilla

“No.”

“You haven’t even looked at it. It’s just a revised prep structure.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It accounts for current demand, Agatha’s reduced reliability, your flares, the spike for the Legacy Latte, and the Vipers’ late-night test menu.”

She stares at me. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Always.”

“Do you think it’s normal?”

“No.”

She stops for half a second, and then shakes her head. “I don’t need a revised schedule tonight.”

“You’re making days’ worth of product at midnight.”

“I’m innovating.”

“You’re running.”

The spatula stills, and her shoulders stiffen. She sets it down slowly. “I’m working.”

“You’re trying to outwork the review and your body, Hal.”

She turns. The warmth is gone, but her cheeks are red. Angry.

“Don’t say ‘the review’ like it was some tiny little thing.”

“It isn’t tiny.”

“No,” she says, her voice hitting the walls sharp enough to suck the air from it. “It’s my name attached to a man’s disappointment. The same man whose son cheated on me for who knows how long. The son who I walked in on fucking his secretary after working all night to make him something he’d find worthy, Warren. It’s customers coming in and looking at mychalkboard-like whimsy may...” She pauses, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know. Lower their property value. It’s vendors emailing me with concerning language and people asking for an old menu because it’s more digestible.”

Her voice shakes at the end, her chin tilting.

“You can’t fix that by making six new items before morning,” I say.

“I’m not trying to fix it.”

“You are.”

“I’m trying to remind people why they like Bitter Bloom before that man convinces them not to.”

“You don’t need all these things to do that.”

“What do I need, Warren?” She steps toward me, her hands spread, glaze on one thumb, flour dusting her black leggings. “A list? A laminated flow chart? Should I organize my soul by prep time and yield?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, but it’s what you mean.” She gestures to the clipboard. “You keep acting like if you can make my bakery neat enough, none of the messy parts will matter.”

“That isn’t true.”

“You hate the messy parts.”

“I hate inefficiency.”