Something flickered in Dr. Henry’s eyes, the emotion there and gone before I could catch it. He extended a hand in Beck’s direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Antonovich. Thank you for hosting Charlotte.”
A muscle ticked in Beck’s jaw as he shook Dr. Henry’s hand. “The pleasure was mine.”
The heat in my face intensified, the double meaning making my stomach flutter. Dr. Henry couldn’t possibly know I’d spent days in Beck’s bed…could he?
His smile didn’t waver as he pumped Beck’s hand. “I appreciate you taking such good care of my protégé.” He glanced at me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to take Charlotte to dinner. Just the two of us. We have quite a bit to discuss about her research and future plans.”
Now, my stomach clenched. Maybe I was being naive. Maybe Dr. Henry knewexactlywhat had transpired between Beck and me. Was he going to try to talk me out of staying in Alaska?
His smile was apologetic as he focused on Beck. “I don’t mean to exclude you, but Charlotte and I will be discussing a lot of science. I’m sure we can find plenty of time for the three of us to chat later.”
Beck didn’t answer. Despite the bustle around us, silence stretched, heavy and awkward.
I shifted on my feet. Why was Beck being so rude? Dr. Henry had flown all the way from Colorado. He’d been my mentor for nine years, and now he simply wanted to talk.
Anger sparked in my chest. My heart pumped faster, and the emotion quickly sizzled into rage. I curled my hands into fists, images flashing through my head like a movie reel. In my mind, I launched myself at Beck and wrapped my hands around his throat. He had to pay. He’d embarrassed Dr. Henry, and now he’d suffer.
An overhead speaker crackled, followed by a woman’s bored-sounding voice. “Final boarding call for Alaska Airlines Flight 8191 with direct service to Portland.”
I blinked, and the anger vanished. My stomach pitched, nausea rolling through me in a thick wave. I swayed on my feet.
Dr. Henry grabbed my arm. “Everything all right, Charlotte?” His fingers were firm, his forehead creased with concern.
“Of course,” I said, confusion and embarrassment mingling in my chest. “Just dizzy for a second.”
“Airports,” Dr. Henry said with a laugh. “I think they put something in the air.” Releasing me, he turned to Beck. “Thank you for understanding, Beck. A friend recommended a great restaurant in the city. I’ve never been able to turn down a plate of spaghetti.”
My confusion swirled thicker. Had Beck agreed to Dr. Henry’s dinner plans?
“Of course,” Beck said, his expression neutral. But when he turned to me, his eyes were stricken. “I won’t be far.”
Wait. Moisture beaded his forehead. Was he…sweating?
Dr. Henry touched my arm. “I have an Uber waiting.”
Comfort spread from his hand through the rest of my body, the feeling like stepping into a warm bath. I nodded even as thoughts buzzed in the back of my head.
Why isn’t Beck coming?
Why is he just standing there?
Dr. Henry led me toward the exit. Automatic doors swished open. The thoughts dipped and circled like gnats, each one too small to bother with.
“I hope you’re hungry, Charlotte,” Dr. Henry said. “This place is supposed to be excellent.”
“Mmhmm,” I said, looking over my shoulder. Beck stood in the middle of the baggage claim, his overlarge form out of place in the busy area. His silver eyes still held that stricken look. Why did he seem so sad?
“This way,” Dr. Henry said, moving his hand to the small of my back. The gnats in my head vanished, the comfortable heat spreading.
I faced forward, and Beck slipped from my mind as I let Dr. Henry lead me to a waiting car.
A half hour later,I twirled spaghetti around my fork. Across from me, Dr. Henry sipped a glass of wine.
The restaurant was small and elegant, the brick building tucked into a side street in downtown Anchorage. White tablecloths draped to a polished wood floor. A candle flickered in a glass bowl between us. The murmur of conversation drifted through the cozy space.
Dr. Henry plucked the wine bottle from the table and refilled my glass. Then he lifted his own wine. “To your success, Charlotte.”
I set down my fork and obediently raised my glass. “Thank you.” He smiled, and I sipped. In the back of my head, a little voice questioned what, exactly, we were celebrating. By scientific standards, my research trip was hardly a success.
