Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER)

conspiratorial smile, “Schooner or Later is the only place you can get it, at least on all of Paddock Island. I’m only saying that to warn you that I might be setting you up for a Matrix Revolutions level of disappointment.”
    Rose spit coffee through her laughter, passing the first page of Boricio’s geek test. She said, “As long as it’s better than Sucker Punch, I think we’re good.”
    Boricio wanted more.
    “So,” he said. “Does that mean you’re prepared to accept the risk?”
    “I am,” she nodded, “as long as you realize that reality is the enemy of expectation.”
    “Okay then,” he nodded, laughing, four minutes into their conversation and already feeling four feet from a fireplace. “Making the perfect Boricio Breakfast Bomb means starting with the right herbs, and when I say herbs I don’t mean the stuff they sprinkle on the white bread at Appleby’s.” He smiled. “I mean the genuine stuff: tarragon, chervil, coriander, etc. And that last one right there is the secret, the one that makes this Boricio Breakfast Bomb go nuclear,” he smiled wider. “Now, no one thinks of coriander as a fine herb, but that’s their mistake. I’m telling you, it’s coriander that gives the bees their wiry little knees.” He narrowed his eyes at Rose. “Please tell me you know what coriander is?”
    “Of course,” she said. “Life without curry is like watching Sucker Punch on repeat.”
    “Well, in that case, I think you’re gonna dig what I’m about to deliver.” He laughed.
    “I’m waiting for you to prove it.”
    Boricio continued. “You’ll also need butter — real butter not that fake sh … crap — and you’ll have to ask your waiter because they’re gonna want to use oil in the kitchen. And while there’s nothing wrong with oil, oil isn’t butter. Now you don’t need a lot.” He paused, then said, “It’s like a kiss, start right, and everything that follows is infinitely better.”
    Boricio luxuriated in the blush of Rose’s cheeks as she shifted in her seat.
    “Besides,” he said, “how can you not love the sound and smell of butter in the pan?”
    “It’s impossible,” she said. “But I can’t hear or smell it all the way out here, so the omelet has to be damn good. So far it sounds like an herb omelet with butter. So what makes it so bombtastic?”
    “Well,” Boricio said, “that’s because we’ve not yet discussed the dairy. There’s no water allowed near a perfect omelet, which is why the Boricio Breakfast Bomb needs milk or cream. Fortunately, Schooner or Later makes their omelets with milk anyway, so you don’t have to ask.” Boricio leaned across the table. “Now here’s the part that’s gonna blow your mind, and why Schooner is the only place on Paddock where you can order this omelet.”
    “I’m ready,” she said. “Blow my mind.”
    Boricio laughed. “You’ve gotta use mizithra cheese.”
    “Mizithra?” she cried. “That’s too salty. And it would taste horrible with coriander. Blech!”
    Boricio shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “It’s a perfect blend. It’s what the gods would eat if they ever ate breakfast.”
    Rose laughed, shaking her head furiously back and forth. “Sorry, but that sounds terrible. I feel like I’ve been sucker punched.”
    “Have I ever lied to you before?”
    “No,” she said. “Not that I know of. But I’ve only had five minutes to catch you red handed.”
    Boricio wanted more of her, maybe more than he’d ever wanted anything else. He wanted to give her a lifetime to catch him red handed in all the lies he would never dare tell her. Boricio’s desire made him bold. “Promise you’ll try it,” he said.
    She wrinkled her nose and said, “Okay, I promise I’ll try the Boricio Breakfast Bomb . Someday.”
    Boricio waited through three seconds where he almost didn’t unleash his heart, but swallowed and said, “How about I make it for you? I make it even better than Schooner.”
    “If you make it better than they do,” she said, “then why come here?”
    “Because otherwise I’d never have the chance to meet you.”
    Boricio was as surprised to hear himself say Because otherwise I’d never have the chance to meet you as he had been to hear himself speak in the third person.
    Boricio ate at Schooner or Later because he liked to leave the house on Sunday morning, and get away from Black Island, where he stayed rent-free in one of the small furnished houses provided by the