"It's Captain," Mike said, with the patience of a man who had explained this before. "Jack is the commander of the mission — that's his role. But his rank is Captain, O-6, and that's how he's addressed. Commander is O-5, which would actually be a demotion." He said this last part with considerable enjoyment. "Technically in a NASA context you might hear Commander, but Captain is his rank and that's what counts."
Bella's face flushed. "I'm so sorry, Captain. I meant no disrespect — I genuinely didn't know."
"Ms. Genovese," Jack said, "you're not military. You wouldn't be expected to know. Both are correct and fine. And Mike—" he gave him a look "—was enjoying that far too much."
"I was just being thorough," Mike said, the picture of innocence.
“Moving on. Ms. Genovese, what is the proper way to put this on?”
Handing Jack a wet towelette to wipe his face so they could start again, Bella then squeezed a small amount out of the tube onto her fingers. Rubbing them together, she stepped closer to where Jack was sitting.“May I?” she asked, holding her hands out to him.
“Please be my guest.”
"Pat and press," she said, reaching towards him.
Jack held her eyes with his as she moved her fingers over him, brushing his hair back so she could apply to his forehead. He went motionless as she drew her finger down his nose — her touch gentle yet somehow firm — then moved onto his cheeks, his chin, before her finger traced the curve above his lip.
She felt the warm steadiness of his breath against her fingertip, and forgot, just for a moment, that anyone else was in the room.
"That smells nice."
“Olives,” Bella blurted out.“Olives.”
“Olives?”
“Yes, the squalane in the formula is made from olives. Castelvetrano olives to be exact. They are from a specific region in Sicily, where my great-grandparents emigrated from. They owned an olive grove there - my family still owns it in fact. They use the olives to make olive oil, but we also use it in our Bella Pelle products exclusively. They are the best olives in the world, with a mild, buttery, and slightly sweet flavor, and the oil we get from them is highly nutrient rich. My Uncle Vito runs the farm now.” Bella was aware she was babbling. She absolutely could not stop.
“Uncle Vito?”
“Yes, my dad’s brother. He’s my godfather too.”
“Your godfather? Is he going to make me an offer I can’t refuse?”
Bella smiled; she loved a good pop culture reference, especially anything having to do withThe Godfather, one of her favorite films.
“You really are Italian, aren’t you? Where did those blue eyes come from?”
“Technically I’m Sicilian. And they seem to pop up every other generation; my grandfather had them.”
A discreet cough broke the moment and made them remember the others in the room. Bella realized she’d been gently stroking Jack’s face throughout their conversation.What am I doing?
“Okay, Captain, I think you have it now,” Bella said, wiping off her hands reluctantly, almost as if it would also remove the feel of Jack’s face from her fingertips.
As everyone gathered their things, they thanked Bella and headed out to their next scheduled meeting. Jack stood there longer than he should have, watching her stack the tubes neatly into their box, and tried to remember the last time he'd lingered anywhere.
He was having flashes of feelings he hadn’t felt since Susan, and that made him feel a sense of guilt, almost like he was being unfaithful to her. Which the rational part of his brain knew made no sense, but there was something about Ms. Genovese. He shook his head, almost as if to shake away the thoughts.
As he left the room, Mike caught up to him in the hallway, and they walked together.
“Jack, what was that back there? It felt like we were intruding on an intimate moment. Are you hot for Old Lady Genovese? She’s a looker, that’s for sure, although I lean blonde, if you get me,” he said, nudging Jack in the side.
“Leave it, Mike.”
Mike side-eyed Jack as they walked.
“Sure, Jack.”
Later in the day, Jack was in the cafeteria eating lunch and reviewing one of the many mission reports, when he saw Bella standing with a tray in her hands, scanning the room for a table - it was packed - with no luck. Jack stood and waved her over, receiving a grateful smile as she came over.
