Daniel snapped his fingers and waggled his fingers through the air, a gesture like ‘poof’. When her face didn’t register anything except confusion, he cocked his head. “No? C’mon, you smell like cloves and rosemary, you’ve gotta know what I’m talking about. At the very least you recognize Macbeth. Let not light see my black and deep desires. I mean, I’m no literary giant, but…”

He blinked. Wait, was he wrong? Maybe she was just an avid bread maker who happened to smoke clove cigarettes.