A collective “Aww!” follows, flaming my cheeks.
“Shut up!” Antonio pauses. “Don’t repeat that, Aeris. I’ll let you go, Doe. Enjoy your weekend with your sister.”
“Will do, bye.”
There’s a chorus of “Bye, Miriam!” before the line goes dead.
Antonio is something else. Silly but also thoughtful.
He texts a picture of his handiwork. On his wrist are three bracelets. The first spells “Mechanical engineer” with a mix of yellow and orange. The second uses the mint green color and says my name with a heart, followed by “BFF.” The last one has his nickname for me: “DOE,” in call caps.
Does your team laugh at you calling me a deer?
Antonio
That’s not what it means.
I frown.
Three dots dance across my screen. I draw in a sharp breath at his response.
Antonio
DOE = Design of Experiments. Isn’t it an engineering term to describe the systematic approach to problem-solving?
How do you know that?
Antonio
I try to keep up.
I reread the words on my screen until a throat clears. I forgot Hart was still here.
“I take it we’re not making plans?” At my sad attempt at a smile, he shakes his head, sighs, and leaves.
I wasn’t interested, especially after Antonio’s call.
Who spends Saturday night babysitting a teammate’s daughter, or making friendship bracelets with other players?
Apparently, he does.
Antonio has layers that are hard not to love the more he peels them back.
He’s full of surprises.
Chapter 21
Miriam
My father is a menace who must be stopped. For the second week in a row, he sent me on a scavenger hunt he calls a job opportunity. This one was with a nearby university and required heels and grace. The first I hate. The second I lack.
The interview could’ve been an email, one that started with me responding, “Thanks, but no thanks.” It was for a teaching position I know wouldn’t fulfill me. I don’t want to spend my days educating twenty-something-year-old college students, and the thought of wearing “professional clothes” for the rest of my life gives me hives.
It’s not that I’m trying to be difficult. I want a job. The problem is, once you reach my age, whatever choice you make sticks. There’s no trial period to see how a role might align with your goals, no understanding should you want to make a life change and release what doesn’t fulfill you.
Creeping closer to forty means permanent. Settled.
I want that for my career, which is why I’m not hopping to take the first position thrown at me. I’m not operating out of arrogance. It’s just that chasing after degrees never gave me thechance to breathe. To figure out mywhybeyond research and diplomas. I don’t have an answer, but I know what makes my spirit sing, and the position my father thought was perfect isn’t it.
