Chapter 1Addie
“I know I have my badge somewhere. Just hold on.…” Addie darted a look at the middle-aged man working there as she dug through her tote bag. A lidless pen, a tube of coral lipstick, several environmentally friendly straws, a few hair clips, a cloth napkin: she piled it all on the desk haphazardly. She paused, debating this persona.Too far?
She really wanted to get in, though.Desperate times call for awkward moments.…She pulled out a container with a menstrual cup in it.
“Would you hold my cup? Please. I don’t want it to fall on the floor since I need to put it… you know.” She gestured at her crotch and then looked up, giving him her widest eyes. “Never too safe, right?”
The man looked at her with the same appalled look she’d been aiming for. “You know what,” he said in a pained voice, “there’s a crowd building up behind you, and you seem like a nice young woman. Why don’t you just go ahead?”
Channel woodland animals and ingenues,she reminded herself before her victory glee appeared in her eyes and ruined everything.Be sweet! Be clueless!
He crossed his arms over his chest, and she realized she was still holding the cup out.
“Are you sure?” Wide, innocent eyes again. She took a longtendril of the honey-blond highlights in her bland brown hair and twined it around her finger. Lost-damsel-in-the-woods hair always seemed to work.
He scribbled something on a badge, held it out, and gestured her forward. “Enjoy the conference, miss. Don’t lose this one.”
Adelaine shoved all her many items back into her bag. A part of her hated playing these games, but a larger part of her liked being able to buy groceries. Paying to get into the lectures would mean that buying food wouldn’t be possible. Someday when she landed a real gig, a big role, she’d pay her fair way into everything. She’d payotherpeople’s way.
First, though, she had research to do. There was an order to things—Step 1: research; Step 2: get the role; Step 3: be fabulous. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And then she would have her career dreams met.
On to Step 1!
Addie fell into the flow of attendees, switching from “ingenue” to “just another academic at a conference.” She twisted the fall of hair that reached her low back into a hasty braid, and then clipped it up into a headache-causing bun.
Maybe it’s time to cut it.
Hair aside, she’d dressed for this part, though, and Lady of Shalott hair wasn’t a fit.Think academic.Over her own jeans, she had added a basic colored blouse she’d picked up at a thrift store and a smart but well-worn sweater. Nottoofrumpy, but beige enough that she thought she’d blend. Her usual style was too much, too notice-me, for this venue, and as with any role, she was dressed in character.
Today’s role was Young Academic.
When she spotted a conference handout on a table, she snatched it up and scanned it until she foundher.Dr. Darbyshire was the real goal, the research Addie needed but in human form instead of a book or video. Addie had read one of Darbyshire’s articles when she was researching for a role, and while she wouldn’t say she’d fangirled—because really, who fangirled a professor?—Addie knew “fangirl” was pretty much on the mark. Any quotes, social media references, and one brief conference video, Addie had collected all of them in a laptop folder labeledTHE PROFESSOR SAYS. Dr. Darbyshire was a handful of years older than Addie’s twenty-seven years, but she was poised, polished, her life together, and she made history seem interesting. So Addie wasn’t going to miss a chance to hear her speak.
Addie skimmed the panel listing, looking for Dr. Darbyshire’s talk.
ROOM: BALLROOM B
“FRIENDS AND SECRET LOVERS: LESBIAN RELATIONSHIPS IN THE VICTORIAN ERA”
—DR. ANTONIA DARBYSHIRE
Addie didn’t bother reading the description. She had exactly four minutes to get to the ballroom and slip into an unobtrusive seat. Addie was going to learn how to be a convincing Victorian, and she was going to get a role in the upcoming Victorian stage production ofDraculathat posited that Mina and Lucy were the true romantic couple in the tale and retold the entire story from their point of view.
Addie followed several serious-looking women in blazers and trousers into the room. She glanced at her own thrift-store clothes. With her jeans, she still looked remarkably American—which she was—but she didn’t want to look it. Her one exception to her common style of dress was the enormous opal ring she wore on her right hand. It had been her grandmother’s, and upon pronouncing Addie’s mother “too fickle to marry,” Gran had put it on Addie’s hand. And there it stayed.
Who knew people wore trousers and skirts to a lecture like this?
Addie slipped into a seat in the back row along the aisle. It meant she could lean out slightly and look at Dr. Darbyshire if she needed. Or wanted. It was only a few moments before Addie did just that, taking in the woman at the front of the crowd.
Fangirling the professor…
The professor was thirty-two, according to her online biography. She was slightly older than Addieandtaller than Addie’s five feet four inches, but not by too much. She was also exactly the sort of woman to make Addie’s usual ADD hit hyperfixation.
It’s not obsessing if she’s a teacher and I need to learn.That was Addie’s answer, and she was sticking to it. It was even mostly true. She’d discovered the professor in her research, and the fact that she was stunning was just a bonus.
Dr. Darbyshire had a commanding presence, as if she were hoping for trouble so she could show off her muscles. Her pose was a power stance, feet slightly spread as if bracing for something. There were curves hidden under her blazer, hinted at by the flared bottom of the jacket, and as the professor turned to say something to an attendee, the angle made clear that she had a swimmer’s body.Lean and strong.Addie stared at her, appreciating the way her short hair toed a line between professional cut and statement cut.
But then Dr. Darbyshire said, “We are running out of seats, so let’s begin.” She paused, her voice rich in that honey and whisky way that great blues singers had, before teasing, “That way any of you who find my lecture tedious can slip away and leave empty seats for the latecomers.…”
