Cheryl felt a surge of appreciation. Dennis wasn’t just offering platitudes; he was genuinely engaged with the logistical challenges. 

“It’s certainly a unique undertaking,” she admitted. “The diffusion systems, the timing, ensuring the scents don’t bleed into each other too much… it requires precision.”

“Exactly,” Dennis affirmed, nodding. “And that’s where I come in. I’ve managed events here for years, from intimate stargazing parties to full-blown corporate galas. I know the quirks of this building, the flow of the crowds, the acoustics – or in your case, the olfactories – of each space. Have you considered the air circulation in the main dome versus, say, the planetarium entrance?”

He launched into a series of thoughtful questions and suggestions, not in a way that questioned her expertise, but rather offered his own extensive knowledge as a resource. He talked about the optimal placement of diffusers to avoid overwhelming guests, the potential for scent fatigue, and even suggested a discreet, high-quality ventilation system he’d used for a previous art installation that involved delicate materials. 

He spoke of budgets, timelines, and even offered to connect her with a trusted fabrication team he’d worked with before, should she need custom housing for her diffusers.

“You know,” he said, a thoughtful expression on his face, “for a small business, navigating these larger institutional projects can be daunting. There are so many moving parts, and sometimes the creative vision can get bogged down in the minutiae. My job is to make sure that doesn’t happen to you. I want your art to shine, unhindered.”

Cheryl found herself genuinely charmed. Dennis was a stark contrast to the elusive, intense Louis. Where Louis was a storm of cosmic energy, distant and captivating, Dennis was a steady, guiding light, grounded and reassuring. 

Louis’s artistry spoke of profound, often unsettling beauty, a journey into the unknown. Dennis, on the other hand, offered a clear path, a well-lit road, and the promise of practical support. 

There was no mystery to Dennis, only an open, friendly sincerity that was undeniably comforting.

“That’s incredibly generous, Dennis,” Cheryl said, a genuine warmth spreading through her. 

“I truly appreciate that. It’s easy to get lost in the creative bubble, and having someone who understands the practical side so thoroughly is invaluable.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, his smile widening. “And honestly, it’s exciting to work with someone as innovative as you. Most of our vendors are caterers or florists. A bespoke perfumer creating a narrative scent journey? That’s next level. It elevates the entire gala. I’m already envisioning the press coverage.”

He spoke with an infectious enthusiasm that was both professional and personal. He wasn’t just doing his job; he seemed genuinely invested in her success, not just for the observatory’s benefit, but because he admired her craft. 

He asked about her process, her inspirations, the challenges of working with such an ephemeral medium. He listened intently, his clear, honest blue eyes reflecting a genuine curiosity, unlike the polite, glazed-over expressions she sometimes encountered at such events.