George was with Zac at the farmer’smarket on 20th St between Massachusetts and Connecticut Avenue. Sunday mornings here were one of his favorite things about the city—good coffee, fresh produce, and the energy of a bustling crowd. The market had been the nucleus of his culinary world for over a decade and he was eager to share it with Zac, someone who also recognized the value of locally sourced ingredients.
George was thumbing through an overfilled cart of root vegetables.
“Beautiful. Look at this butternut squash... and the parsnips.”
Zac eyed the cart, then George. “Gratin?” he asked.
“You’re reading my mind.”
“That’s my job, remember?”
They had come to the market not only to shop but to get inspiration for seasonal dishes needed for the soft opening of David’s on Wednesday.
“I haven’t made one in years, have you?” George asked.
“No, but they’re easy and delicious. Let’s see if we can find some fresh nutmeg.”
They continued browsing the tents for fresh ideas,mingling with strangers, speculating on universal truths: butter vs. olive oil, slurry vs. Roux, onion vs. garlic. Sometimes they were overheard, and these good-natured conversations blossomed with others into queries, methods, experience becoming a summit of like-minded people celebrating a common obsession.
They weaved in and out of these friendly conversations, occasionally finding pockets of silence to mull over Wednesday’s menu. At one of these quiet spots, Zac surprised George by asking, “How’s your love life?”
Unlike HR in a corporate world, the question did not strike George as inappropriate. His business goals were small, familial, and he sought to build trust with Zac more than anything. He’d hired him for three reasons. One—he was a fast and talented sous chef. Two—he was straight and engaged, so there would be no worry of in-house drama or romance. And three—most important of all, he was personable and ambitious, reminding George a lot of himself at that age. It was lucky to get any combination of those prerequisites, but to get them all-in-one was nothing short of miraculous. And to his delight, it grew clearer to George every day that he and Zac made a great team.
“That’s a ballsy question to ask your boss, don’t you think?”
There was a moment of deer-in-the-headlights from Zac, but George could not contain his laughter to sustain the jest.
Zac grinned. “You had me going there for a second.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry.”
“It’s all good. Youarethe boss.”
“In all honesty, I was kind of avoiding the answer. Not a thing has been going on in my love life, Zac. No reason to keep it from you, though. I’ve pretty much designed it that way for a while, couldn’t even imagine dating again. But events here lately may be coaxing me to... re-evaluate.”
He considered telling him about the impromptu phone-sex call he’d had with Mikey the previous night but decided against it. To do so would betray Mikey’s trust, and his friendship with both was too new. Best to keep that quiet all around, he surmised.
It’s going to be hard keeping it from May, though. If she sees the slightest change in my demeanor, she’ll pounce like a rabid Ruth Westheimer.
“You should. It may seem like you’re too busy, but you need to make time for yourself personally. It’s healthy for your head and your heart. I know I function better when I’mwell-rounded. Ginger makes sure of that as often as she can.”
“I bet. You’re both in your twenties. Sex should be at the forefront of your pursuits.”
“Age has nothing to do with it. I’m as familiar with male libido as you, boss.”
“Touché.”
“And you’re a good guy. You deserve to be happy.”
“You sound like May. She set me up on a blind date last night.”
“Really?” Zac asked, inflect rising inquisitively. “How did that go?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Bad, huh?”
George nodded.
