Olivia plowed on, leaning in to make her point. “We cannot waste what I am now calling Operation Mistletoe Phase Two: The Scientific Method of Love.”
The changing operation names mystified him almost as much as the girl who made them all up.
“Come on!” Benny complained. “Phase One probably cost me the cell phone I want for Christmas. You won’t be happy until there’s coal in my stocking!”
She tsked, unfazed by his fears. “Nobody really does coal, Benny. It’s old English folklore.”
Grandpa leaned back, that amusement in his eyes deepening. “Well, young lady, you should know that Benny’s mom has made it perfectly clear that she does not want you messing with her personal life.”
Benny almost hugged him. “That’s right, so?—”
“No one ismessingwith anything,” Olivia said, brushing off the warning. “I promise! All we’re going to do is test a few very simple hypotheses, Mr. Starling. We’re dipping our toes into chemistry and human physiology.”
“In other words,” Benny said, “meddling.”
“We are examining the effects of certain outside criteria on the chemistry of the brain that makes a person think they are in…”
“Don’t say it,” Benny ground out. “Do not say?—”
“Love.” She grinned at him, then at Red. “It’s all very scientific. And no one is going to get hurt, I promise.”
Benny dropped his head into his hands. “Olivia, you can’t make people fall in love. That’s…that’s…” He turned to Red. “Isn’t it illegal?”
“I don’t know about illegal,” his great-grandfather said, eyeing Olivia like he’d never seen a specimen quite like her. “But it’s certainly…ambitious.”
“Don’t encourage her, Grandpa.”
She flicked her fingers like Benny was a fly. “He knows genius when he sees it, and this, my friends, is the work of a mastermind.”
“Look, Olivia, I know you’re smart, but a master?—”
“It’s from ChatGPT,” she interjected. “Whoisa mastermind.”
“Chat…Jeep-tea?” Red scowled. “Who in tarnation is he?”
“Oh, mine’s a female,” she quipped. “I call herLe Chat”—she drew the word out and pronounced it weird—“which is French for cat, so how cute is that? Anyway, to answer your question, Mr. Starling, it’s an AI program—artificial intelligence.The program helps people solve problems, like math or coding or romance.”
“We’re not allowed to use it in school,” Benny said. “That tells you it should be off limits in the rest of life, too.”
Red just shook his head. “Kiddo, if you need a computer for romance, you’re doing something wrong.”
“Not if the romance is a problem and Chat can solve the problem.” She feverishly tapped her finger on the paper like a woodpecker on a tree trunk. “Here are my top ten ChatGPT-approved, scientifically backed ways to increase human affection in winter environments.”
Benny groaned, already knowing he was going to hate these ideas. Or his mother would.
Olivia sat up straight and put the paper in front of her as if she were giving a speech to the class.
“Number one: in controlled temperature environments, people are more affectionate when they’re warm, which I think the bakery kitchen will be, so check that one off. We do want to keep it exactly two point three degrees warmer than usual.”
Red frowned. “Two point three? Why not two point four?”
“It would mess with the variables,” Olivia said solemnly. “Number two: apparently, vanilla scent increases oxytocin production. So, let’s strategically spill a bottle of it before they start working.”
“All bakeries smell like vanilla,” Benny said. “We don’t have to waste my mom’s very expensive Madagascar vanilla bean extract.” He shuddered to think how she’d feel about that.
Olivia tipped her head in concession, giving him hope he could talk her out of this madness. “I can snag some from my dad’s shop.”
Or not.
