"Milk, eggs-" Tristan listed.

"Now all you need is flour, sugar, and vanilla."

"Dahlia," the man started.

"Sorry," she shook his hand, "Making a cake?"

"Technically, milk and eggs are for breakfast," he wasn't in a good mood.

"Right, that makes more sense."

"Yes," he scanned the herb aisle.

Dahlia slightly raised an eyebrow but her smile never faltered, "I'll leave you to do your shopping then."

"No, no, join me. Shopping is quite boring when done alone."

"That depends," she smirked but Tristan hadn't heard her.

He was in an even worse mood now. Why did he even ask her to join him?

"A pineapple and sugar?" he inquired after taking a deep breath and pasting on a smile of his own. "We make quite the pair," he thought, "I wonder who's smile is more convincing."

"Very random, I know."

"Now we really seem to be getting cake ingredients."

Dahlia laughed slightly. Tristan used to think these laughs were genuine, but now he wondered whether they were just for show. They all sounded the same. They had the same pitch and length, unlike a real laugh. The idea somewhat depressed him.

"Yes, but pineapple?" she questioned pulling him from his thoughts.

"You've never had pineapple cake?" She shook her head. "An upside-down pineapple cake?!" Tristan was baffled. The dessert had such a special place in his memories that he couldn't believe his manager had never tasted it.

"You seem to be very offended that I've never had pineapple cake."

"We've got to change that."

"Sure, I'll order it some time and tell you how it goes."

"Order it?" Tristan shook his head, "While I'm here?"

"You can bake?"

"I can do just about everything, Miss Garcia."

"And here I thought you were entertaining me by taking that churro recipe."

Tristan gave a fake gasp, "Dahlia, I would never."

"I'll be looking forward to trying that pineapple cake then," she chuckled and Tristan felt himself smile. It didn't matter whether her laugh was real or not. It didn't matter if she was being genuine. It made him happy all the same.

~~~~~~~~~

"I didn't know you wore glasses." Groceries in hand, the two coworkers were heading towards their cars.

"That's because I mostly wear contacts at work."

"Well, I like these glasses."

Dahlia's smile widened, "They might like you back, unlike Cano." They shared a laugh before the manager continued, "See you on Monday."

"On Monday? I'm making you the pineapple cake now."

"You're terribly worked up about this cake aren't you?"

"Miss Garcia, it is a crime that you've never tasted pineapple cake before."

"What do you suggest then?"

"My place?"

"The apartment half an hour away from here?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Let's just go to Rosemont."

"I can't refuse, even if your evil bird will bully me again."

"You better not ruin my kitchen."

"No promises. See you there?"

"See you there."

~~~~~~~~~

"And that's it," Tristan spoke as he slowly shut the oven's door. Taffy sat at the oven patiently and watched the food inside.

"That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be."

"That's because Chef Tristan is here," he gave a little bow.

"Now we wait," Dahlia chuckled.

"Yes, excuse me while I wash my hands."

"Sure."

"Baking," he thought, "Now we're baking with her." Tristan sighed. He knew where this was going. He was going to get attached. He was going to make mistakes.

"Just a minute," he heard Dahlia say. Was someone at the door?

"Dahlia! Are you ok?!" Tristan could make out Gloria's panicked question.

"Yes, I am. What's wrong?"

"This."

"A tissue?"

"Blood. It's yours, Dahlia."

"What?"

"It was just there on your desk."

"You promised you're doing your check-ups." Tristan could tell Gloria was crying. He debated whether he should leave the bathroom but felt he'd be intruding.

"Calm down," Dahlia's voice remained tranquil but it was full of warmth. Tristan thought that Dahlia was always using a friendly tone but this was different. "It was a nosebleed. I just hadn't drank water."

"Did you do your check-up?"

"Gloria-"

"Did you?!"

"I did. Please don't cry, love."

"I'm not," she snuffed, "Just take care of yourself."

"I will, I will."

"Is that cake?"

"Yes, I have someone over."

"Someone? Is it a guy?"

"Alright," Dahlia chuckled, "That's your cue to leave."

"Dahlia! If it's a guy you better tell me all about it!"

"Later. Drive safe, ok? Send me a text when you get home."

"Was that Gloria?" Tristan came out of the bathroom after hearing the door click closed.

"Mhm."

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, Gloria just gets overprotective when it comes to people she's close to."

"I didn't know you were that close."

"I've known her for seventeen years. Before I came here. We met at the lowest points in both our lives. It's amazing that we reached this place together. I'm grateful she's in my life."

Dahlia was talking freely. Her face was more animated than usual. Tristan was staring and he knew it.

"Oh sorry."

"For what?"

Dahlia looked at him but didn't answer, "Tell me about your closest friend," she inquired instead.

Tristan's mind wandered, "Well we're not in touch anymore. But he was the closest friend I've ever had. Even though we only knew each other for a year..." he trailed off trying to explain.

"But you clicked," Dahlia helped him, "You trusted him?"

"I trusted him a lot. Too much. I endanger- Now I've talked too much."

"I guess pineapple cake does that."

"We didn't eat it yet," Tristan laughed, once again grateful for Dahlia's uninquisitive nature.

The oven gave a 'ding' and Taffy barked enthusiastically.

"Would you like to do the honor?"

"Of taking our glorious creation out the oven? Of course."

She carefully took the pan out before placing it on the counter.

"Now we flip it," Tristan stated.

Dahlia took off the oven mitts, "You should do that."

"It's easy," he placed a hand over hers and took the opposite side of the pan. They cautiously flipped it together. "There," he looked at the cake proudly. It came out better than he excepted.

Half an hour later, they were seated at the coffee table with a slice of dessert each. Taffy was gulping down her piece beside them.

"Ladies first," Tristan stated after he sunk his fork in the dessert.

Dahlia's eyes lit up mischievously. She slowly turned his wrist to face her before taking the fork into her mouth.

"You're right," she mimicked what he'd once said, "It's not that bad."

"I'm always right, Garcia," he replied without missing a beat.