Unmasked Dreams - L.J. Evans Page 0,42

B&B each day allowed me a break from being on call twenty-four seven. While they did the bulk of the cleaning and maintenance, I worked in the lab and then took over food prep from them in the afternoon.

By the time I headed for the garage, my headache was receding, thanks to the ibuprofen and caffeine. Even still, I kept the Watery Reflection playlist I normally had blaring down to an elevator level. I checked the tubes and petri dishes, and joy filtered back in, replacing the melancholy of the night before and easing aside the longing that had curled its way into my stomach from waking up in Dawson’s bed.

My supposition had been right. It wasn’t just the cinnamaldehyde but the combination of it with eugenol and macroalgae that were making the biggest difference. I recorded the impact in terms of colony-forming units, even though there hadn’t been enough time elapsed to really prove anything. The real data wouldn’t come for three or four more days. So, I focused instead on mixing ingredients for something totally different—a male face cream inspired by Dawson’s pine scent and the formulas that had trailed through my bed before sleep had overtaken me the night before.

My fascination with organic makeup and skincare had come after I’d read a study about how asbestos was found naturally in some talc and could be linked to ovarian cancer and mesothelioma. When I’d read that first study, I’d known the truth. I wasn’t meant to cure cancer. I was meant to prevent it.

The battle for natural products was shelf life. Just like the battle for the electric car industry was battery life. I intended to be the person to find the answer to the synthetic-additives problem just like Raisa was solving the energy crisis.

I’d just put everything away and was going to wash up when my phone rang. I looked down to see Jersey and Nell’s face on my screen. I stepped outside the plastic walls of my lab, peeling off layers to answer it.

“Hey,” I said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. The real question is, how are you?” Jersey asked, worry flooding her voice.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Dawson said Silas left, and you drank yourself into oblivion.”

I snorted. “Like Dawson should be one to talk.”

“When was the last time you saw Dawson drunk, Vi?” she asked, her point ramming home like she’d meant it to.

I hadn’t seen Dawson that way in five years. But then again, we were rarely together. I usually saw him at Truck and Jersey’s during the holidays, and he’d shown up at my college graduation when I’d received my bachelor’s, but he’d missed the latest ceremony in May. What I did know was that he and Jada partied their way all over the globe. I was sure there’d be social media proof of a drunk Dawson if I went digging for it.

My silence worried her when I hadn’t meant it to.

“Are you upset about Silas?” she asked.

“God no,” I said instantly. When she laughed, I felt chagrinned. “That’s awful, right? I’m an awful human being. I should feel more when I’m breaking up with a boyfriend.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” she said with force. “You cared for him, and when you realized it wasn’t going to work, you ended it. There should be no guilt in that.”

“Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever―” I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. “Never mind.”

“It’ll happen, Vi. When you least expect it,” she said softly.

She’d thought I was going to ask about finding the right person. About finding someone who made my soul light up the way Truck made hers. But hadn’t it already happened? Wasn’t that the problem? The man I couldn’t shake but couldn’t have?

“I’m fine, honestly. I’m happy sticking my head in my formulas and helping Mandy and Leena, so don’t worry.”

“It’s my sisterly prerogative to worry.”

“I know, but really, I’m fine. How’s Nell?”

I turned the subject back to the one topic guaranteed to deter Jersey from any other conversation. And it worked. We talked for a few more minutes before we hung up.

I washed my hands, threw the disposable gear away, and came out in time to see Dawson’s car purring back into the driveway. Jada was in the passenger seat, and she hopped out before the car had even come to a standstill.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone last night. Are you alright?” she asked, staring into my eyes and then feeling the back of my head for the

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