It would be a lie if Jenny said she hadn’t spent the afternoon casting sidelong glances at the young man when he wasn’t looking. However, it would also be a lie if she said it was only because of his looks. She also liked watching him interact with Matilda. Each little encouragement he offered her was pitch perfect; often enough to promote confidence but not so often that it felt condescending or disingenuous. Even when Matilda made mistakes, he wasn’t overly critical, making sure that he showed her an alternative way of doing things. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t talk down to her like most adults were prone to do, even as her intellect became apparent.
…Or maybe that’s just how she rationalized the staring.
Matilda surveyed the small tray with was laden with examples of their handiwork, her head cocked to the side as she considered her options. Their outsides all shined invitingly, a clear sign that their careful babysitting of the tempered chocolate had been worthwhile. Still, Sarp was right. It didn’t matter how pretty they looked, if they didn’t taste good, what was the point?
“How about the sea salt ones?” Jenny suggested as her daughter’s silent contemplation approached the one minute mark. Of course, she’d never want to step on her daughter’s toes, but it didn’t really matter which one they tried first, did it?
The little girl assessed her mother’s suggestion before nodding up at Sarp, seconding the suggestion.
Sarp hadn’t been oblivious to Jenny’s gaze--honestly, he was used to being noticed, and the couple of times he’d turned just as she looked away proved that she had at least some interest in him. And if they’d been alone, he would have made his interest in her more clear--but to his credit, aside from an occasional glance at her as Matilda focused on a task, he kept his attention on his student. He’d missed working with kids since leaving Istanbul, and even though Matilda’s intellect seemed more like an adult’s (her vocabulary was better than Sarp’s, that was for sure), she still had the youthful energy and fresh perspective that made routine tasks seem more fun.
Watching her as she studied the finished chocolates for so long, he wondered what she was thinking--he hoped this had been worth it to her; that he’d helped to answer at least some of her questions. It seemed like an awfully long consideration if everything was fine. But when Jenny broke in, and Matilda agreed without protest, he guessed maybe things were okay after all.
“Perfect choice,” he agreed--not unaware that the decision had been Jenny’s, and so the compliment would go to her as well. Setting the sea salt bar on the cutting board, he stepped away to heat a knife with a kitchen torch (“You can run it under hot water at home, just dry it on a towel,” he said, not wanting Matilda to start experimenting with fire) before using it to cut three bite-sized pieces from the chocolate. Picking up one of them, he popped it into his mouth, considering the immediate taste a casual consumer would notice as well as the more subtle elements. “Well,” he said, withholding his comments until Matilda could give hers, “what do you think?”
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