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Kia watched Sullivan transfer a slip of spicy honey-garlic aioli onto the back of her spoon and pass the spoon over her tongue. The gesture was just as sexy as it had been in school.

“Now that you’ve tasted my food, do you question your life choices?” Kia teased.

“Everything about you makes me question my life choices.”

That could have been a diss except the way Sullivan said it, the slight roughness in her voice, the way her eyes lingered on Kia’s face…

“That was a compliment,” Sullivan added through a mouthful of honey-coated fried beet.

“Do I make your life gourmazing?”

Kia sat on her hands to keep from picking up her phone and taking a thousand pictures of the warm fair light caught in Sullivan’s hair, like every gold wheat field Kia had driven through at sunset, only more beautiful.

She wished she had her digital camera so she could take those pictures where the internet couldn’t touch them.

“Yes,” Sullivan said. “You make my life gourmazing .”

The words for now hovered between them. Soon Judge Harper would either rule in Mega Eats’ favor and ruin Kia and Sullivan or, hopefully, he’d do the right thing and rule against Mega Eats.

But then Kia would start work on Taste the Love Land.

Sullivan had hinted that she’d leave town while Kia had the land logged.

Maybe Sullivan would stay away for the whole development.

And Kia had to get back on the road. Her followers missed Kia Gourmazing’s travels.

Kia pushed the thoughts away.

Sullivan finished her food. “Want to take some pictures?” she asked like someone who didn’t loathe social media.

They got up. Kia took Sullivan’s empty plate and plastic fork and dumped it in a trash can.

She waited for Sullivan to say something so Kia could defend plastic.

Biodegradable forks made out of cornstarch cost ten times as much, and growing corn took energy too.

Everything humans did was bad for the environment, but they weren’t going to sit on a rock and eat lichen for their whole lives.

But Sullivan didn’t say anything, and Kia felt a wave of sadness for the waste the fair would leave in its wake.

Her sadness ebbed away as they headed into the crowd of fairgoers.

They fell into the kind of conversation that felt silly and meaningful at the same time.

What was their favorite toy as a child? Did they ever dream they were naked in public?

(No for Sullivan. Yes, cooking naked in the Diva for Kia.)

“Ever dream you’re taking naked pictures in the living room when your innocent wife of convenience walks in?

” Sullivan rested her hand on Kia’s lower back as she said it, the gesture so confident and subtly seductive, Kia knew why every man at the Jean Paul Molineux School of Culinary Arts fell for Sullivan.

“Ever dream that you forget sage when you’re making sage and butternut squash risotto?”

What were their favorite movies? If they were an animal, what animal would they be and why?

“A dragon,” Kia said, skipping ahead to avoid a letter board advertising caramel corn.

“And why?”

Kia spread her arms, walking backward so Sullivan could take her in.

“Because obviously.”

She waited for Sullivan to tell her because obviously wasn’t an answer, but Sullivan just smiled and said, “Fair enough.”

“And you?” Kia asked.

“A frog,” Sullivan said without hesitation.

“Baby, you’re so much sexier than a frog! But truth—” A memory Kia had totally forgotten popped back into her mind. “When I was a kid, I read that frog prince story, and I thought I’d rather have the frog than a boyfriend.”

“Look at you all outdoorsy, kissing frogs.”

“I wouldn’t actually kiss them! That’s how you ended up with a prince you didn’t want.”

“Did you always know you were lesbian?”

“Pretty much. When did you know you were bisexual… or pan?”

“Probably pan, but I grew up with the word bi , so that always felt comfortable. And I guess I always knew, although there’ve been times, like in school, when I was more interested in men. Other times, women.”

“And right now?”

The crowd pushed Sullivan and Kia together. Sullivan took Kia’s hand.

“Are you fishing for a compliment, Jackson?”

“What compliment am I fishing for?”

“That there’s no way I could be married to you and notice anyone else.”

Had she been fishing for that sentiment? It would hurt if Sullivan was surreptitiously checking out the people they passed. Kia didn’t say anything.

“Because it’s true.” Sullivan squeezed her hand. “I’m not looking at anyone else.”

All the lights at the fair brightened, as if someone had turned on an extra generator.

“Well, I’ve been desperately in love with you since I was twenty, which totally ruined my dating life, by the way!” Kia spoke the words with maximum drama so Sullivan would think she was kidding.

“Right,” Sullivan drawled.

Kia had better cover up the truth with a quip.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Chef,” Kia added. “My dating life isn’t hard to ruin.”

They walked on, commenting on the merchandise for sale and the families enjoying the fair. Kia wished she didn’t have to stop them every few minutes to take pictures, but the more she took now, the less she had to subject Sullivan to her influencer lifestyle later on.

“So you hire local cooks?” Sullivan asked as they stopped to photograph themselves in front of a donkey in a stall decorated with prize ribbons.

“It’s great publicity for them,” Kia said. “I highlight their restaurants, and I pay them, of course. If there’s a culinary arts student dreaming of having their own food truck, it’s a line for their résumé. Cooking with the amazing Kia Gourmazing.”

“You help people,” Sullivan said.

“You expected me to be a ruthless capitalist?”

Sullivan shrugged. “Nah.”

“I want to live my father’s values,” Kia said as they continued.

“He said you should always leave a place as good or better than you found it. The first time was in Arkansas right about the time I really started drawing crowds. It was at a fair. I was making way more money than the local people. But their fry oil was stale. They all sold the same bad elephant ears people had been eating at fairs since forever. So I closed my truck and went around to each of the other chefs and helped them think of one thing they could do to distinguish or improve their food. They didn’t love me at first. Young, know-it-all kid busting in on their thing, but they made more money that night than in the last three nights. I realized, this is what I want to do.”

“So you started hiring local people?”

“And featuring local restaurants. If there’s a food truck that’s struggling, I give them some good recipes, show them how to be more efficient.

But I’ve lost that vibe. I only do bigger fairs now.

That’s what my sponsors want. I’m sick of pushing American Spirit breakfast sausage and Fizz Bang soda.

” She hadn’t realized how adamant she felt until she spoke the words.

“That’s why I want to start Taste the Love Land.

” It mattered that Sullivan got it. Please, see me.

“My cousin’s girlfriend has been in Portland for years.

She says people are getting priced out of neighborhoods their families lived in for generations.

A lot of people of color. Taste the Love Land can be an incubator or a place for people to survive if they’ve lost their brick-and-mortar. ”

They’d reached the end of the exhibition hall and stepped out.

Beyond a fence made of orange plastic netting, the dusty parking lot stretched into the darkness.

A plane crossed the sky, looking large in its proximity.

The airport was just a mile away. Sullivan watched its ascent, then closed her eyes to the sky.

“Are we going to get through this lawsuit thing?” Kia asked, although it was hard to imagine a world where things did work out.

If they lost the lawsuit, they were fucked on so many levels.

And they probably would lose if Judge Harper was on Mega Eats’ side.

But if they won and Kia built Taste the Love Land, Sullivan would hate her for the rest of their lives.

If Sullivan didn’t hate her, Sullivan would at least feel terrible about the Bois.

That kind of terrible wasn’t the foundation for a relationship.

“I feel like it’s wrong to have fun or relax with Mega Eats at the door. ”

“Where there’s life, there’s hope. My grandpa used to say that.

” Sullivan hesitated for a moment, then added, “He said happy people don’t wait until they’ve got everything they want to be happy.

The art of living well is learning that you can be happy and worried at the same time.

You can be sad and joyful. You can even be angry and at peace.

The best activists are like that. Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.

Let’s go do something fun even though we might be fucked. ”

Kia looked up at the spinning carts on the roller coaster. How many scenes like this had she seen? Hundreds? Tonight it felt special. It was beautiful and bright, as though someone had plucked the stars out of the sky and adorned the roller coaster with their glow.

Sullivan caught her looking, smiled, and then took her hand as easily as if they’d been holding hands forever.

“Come on,” Sullivan said. “I have a wonderful ride for a photo op.”

The ride, if it could be called that, looked like two mobile homes strung together and painted in shades of pink, with hearts lined with light bulbs, some burnt out, some flashing erratically. A sign above the contraption read THE LOVE TUNNEL .

“When I was a kid, if you really liked someone, you took them to the Love Tunnel,” Sullivan said. “If you really, really liked each other, you’d make out.”

No one else was in line. Sullivan gave the attendant two tickets.

“Did you ever make out with someone in the Love Tunnel?” Kia asked when they were settled in their seats.

“Brian Cotswell. Sixth grade. My true love.” The cart rattled and began moving slowly toward an arch of pink lights.

The cart rumbled past a scene painted on plywood. Silhouettes of a man and woman stood near a lake. Hidden lights above the scene faded from bright daylight to twilight to night, and stars twinkled in the plywood.

“And then there was Daisy… I can’t remember her last name,” Sullivan went on. “She broke my heart as much as someone can when you’re fourteen and don’t know their last name.”

Sullivan rested her hand on Kia’s knee. The lights dimmed.

“This is the part where I kissed Brian Cotswell.”

“Does that mean these exact same rides have been going around since you were in sixth grade, and we should be worried?”

“Every summer. A few nights and then they’re gone. Like you,” Sullivan added pensively.

“But I’ll come back. Lillian and Izzy will move back to Portland eventually. Taste the Love will be my home base.”

“It’ll be a business that you visit. It’s not the same thing as home,” Sullivan said gently.

What if I stayed? The thought appeared in Kia’s mind like a package at one of the FedEx stores she used as a traveling mailbox.

“Would you like to… kiss?” Sullivan touched Kia’s cheek. Kia covered Sullivan’s hand and held it in place. The neon lights in the tunnel turned Sullivan’s curls a chestnut pink. “In honor of my thirteen-year-old self who thought this was the most romantic place to kiss?”

“Yes,” Kia breathed.

Sullivan’s kiss was as gentle as sunlight and cotton candy.

But she had a storm chaser’s confidence, tempered with a strength that didn’t need a storm to feel alive.

Kia melted like sugar into caramel. She closed her eyes.

Sullivan was kissing her the way Sullivan did everything.

Like the way she rolled up her cuffs, the way she stretched her shoulders, or tasted a sauce, like she was completely alive in her body.

Kia melted and glowed and throbbed. Sullivan’s lips parted.

Their tongues touched. Sullivan moaned softly.

It was everything, and Kia had never needed more so badly.

Then Sullivan pulled away and handed Kia her phone. Kia didn’t realize Sullivan had been holding it. The screen was open to a picture.

“Are you proud of me?” Sullivan said, pulling away. “This is the first picture I’ve taken for your followers.”

In the picture, Sullivan leaned in for a kiss. Kia beamed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate what you do,” Sullivan said. “I get it now. Being a real influencer is a job, and you’re really good at it. I’ll help you take photos and videos so you don’t have to do it all yourself.”

Kia held the phone, but she wished she could toss it off the ride and into the fake lake they were passing, and never take another photo unless it was on her digital camera.

“We are cute,” Sullivan said proudly.

But do you really, really like me? Kia thought.