Page 6 of True Soil-Mates

OMG, I’ve suddenly never wanted anything more. “That’s, um…fine.”

He grins as Carol grabs my other elbow and starts shepherding me down the hallway. “Let’s get you into a cleansuit, dear.”

4

ALEX

I’ve never been so thrilled that two employees suddenly had to leave. If it were any other project, I’d just say forget it and start again when they’re back. But the Martin 937 test takes at least six hours to set up, and once it’s started, can’t be stopped for anything. Luckily, in the original test, they had junior assistants take down the data, so we’re replicating their conditions fairly well – better than we were, actually.

Jasmine is a great sport, jumping into a pale blue cleansuit with Carol’s assistance. I can make out her eyes through the goggles, and they are smiling as she carefully steps through the airlock and into the lab.

Jennifer trains her quickly, and Jasmine seems confident as she completes the next round, with Jennifer supervising. Then I take over for Emily. “We’re good here. Get to your family. Take the day off tomorrow if you need to, okay?”

“Thanks!” They disappear through the airlock, and Jasmine and I are left alone.

Even though we’re completely covered by our cleansuits and other gear, and in my workplace, this feels like an oddly intimate moment.

“So that’s it?” Jasmine asks. “The timer rings, I read out the data twice, you enter it, and we stare at this row of glass things to make sure they don’t – what? Explode?”

I chuckle. “Nothing’s going to explode. No volatile liquids. We just have to make sure that the pH levels are recorded precisely as the test progresses.” I love that she seems genuinely interested. “The other company did this on an older system, and we have to use the identical gear…which means the data must be recorded manually.”

“And we’re doing this so the other company can confirm that their study must have been correct?

“Exactly. Like you said – it’s kind of like running spell check on the experiment. Excellent analogy, by the way.”

She grins. “Is all of your data collection this exciting?”

“Laugh all you like, but we do have a minor…well, not even an explosion, but something bubbles over or goes bang every year or two. It’s usually a calculation or conversion error in the original dataset.”

She leans closer, looking up at me. “I like that your work is so important. It must be a lot of stress supervising so many people and projects at the same time, though. What do you do for fun – or at least, to relax?”

I find myself taking another step closer. “I hit the gym almost every morning. I think physical fitness is important for stamina and a clear mind.”

She grins, lifting a gloved finger and trying to poke my bicep but missing by several inches. “No kidding. You’re the size of a house, in a good way. What else?”

Wow. This warm tingle is not from the extra layers of the cleansuit. “I read a lot. Watch movies – I love documentaries.” A chuckle gets stuck in my throat. “But apparently I don’t stop and smell the flowers enough, or even notice the flowers outside the bookshop.”

This is more than desire. Yearning? That might be the most accurate word.

I’ve never thought of myself as the romantic type. But every time I look into her eyes, I am transported. I’ve never wanted a woman like this before. No, not even want. Need. Ineedto throw my arms around her and hold her curvy body against mine. Feel her warmth. Start to figure out what she desires in her life to be happy, so I can give it to her.

“What about you? What do you do for fun and de-stressing?”

Jasmine giggles sweetly. “To be honest, I don’t get stressed very often. I work with plants – digging in the dirt and watching things grow is pretty chill.” She shrugs, the papery fabric of her cleansuit rustling softly. “Sure, there are times when I have to work overtime for several days in a row, or an order comes in that’s a huge rush. But that’s busy, not stress. Anyway, I read a lot. Especially?—”

The five-second warning beep sounds, propelling Jasmine into action as she takes her place in front of the row of panels. As soon as the alarm rings, she recites each beaker number and pH level twice, clearly and steadily.

I repeat each reading back to her once before noting it down. Once we’ve completed the round, I flash her a grin. “I’m going to hire you, by the way. As my…interior landscaper? Greenery coordinator? What’s your title?”

She laughs, her eyes lighting up. “Really? Thank you!” Her head cocks to the side as she stares up to the ceiling for a moment, thinking. “How about plant consultant?”

“Sounds good. We’ll start with the front lobby, Carol’s desk, and my office. There’s that small lunchroom, too… That’s pretty much it for the non-sterile spaces.”

She holds up her hands. “Okay, I’m not trying to upsell you or anything, but down the road maybe you’d like to take a look at the landscaping around your front entrance?”

“What landscaping?”

“Exactly.” Her eyebrow arches. “This is clearly a successful company. It should look like one. That usually means some trees and shrubs, maybe a few rose bushes. It’ll make you look established.”

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