Kane stared at Cyrus, fork suspended halfway to his mouth.
"We'll see? That's your answer?"
The ambiguity hung between them, making Kane's chest tight.
He focused on his plate instead, stabbing at what looked like a single scallop drowning in foam.
"This is it?" Kane held up the morsel. "I've seen bigger appetizers at gas stations."
The elderly couple at the next table turned to stare. Kane's voice had carried farther than intended.
"For two hundred dollars, I expected actual food, not modern art."
Cyrus remained perfectly composed, cutting his own microscopic portion.
"It's seared diver scallop with cauliflower purée and truffle oil."
His voice was educational and patient.
"The portion allows you to appreciate the individual flavors without overwhelming the palate."
Kane bit into the scallop, his irritation melting as butter and ocean sweetness exploded across his tongue.
"Oh."
The flavors were impossibly complex, each element distinct yet harmonious.
