I took the bag and thanked her before slipping the lanyard over my head and turning the card to face in.
According to the program, I’d be presenting in the Ruby Room.
With my gaze floorward, I squeezed through the crowd. It had grown since the last time I attended a few years ago, the first year after finishing my PhD. There were a few faces I recognized on my way to the Ruby Room. A handful from SDSU, a few from UCLA,and, other than me, no one else from Simucon.
I couldn’t help but wonder whether Elizabeth would have wanted to be here.
Who was I kidding? Of course she would. Her gray eyes flashed through my mind, eager to learn. She’d be bouncing around from session to session wishing she could clone herself and attend them all.
Without intending to, my mind slipped toward the image of her walking into our office yesterday. Her wet dress clinging to her every curve was something I actively had to remind myself not to think about. In hindsight, giving her my coat was more for me than it was for her.
But seeing her in my much-too-big clothing did something to me too.
An almost-painful heat pulled through me. Perhaps I needed the AC. Even without being around, Elizabeth would be the reason I lost complete control over my body’s temperature.
I shoved her from the forefront of my mind, but that only meant she got comfortable at the back. She clearly had no intention of leaving.
I focused on the task at hand and managed to get to the venue I’d be presenting in. There was a session in progress, so I stayed near the door at the top of the stairs and studied the area.
The room wasn’t intimidatingly large. I’d presented in larger, but it still meant a maximum of one hundred people could be attending. Although knowing how these sessions often went, I’d predict closer to eighty.
I made my way over to the Emerald Room, where Professor Hahn would be presenting in the next session. I slipped into one of the seats and waited.
When Hahn took the stage, I was transported back to myuniversity days. I learned almost all of my presentation tricks from her. An engineer I once feared had become familiar over many years of polishing a PhD thesis together.
Professor Hahn’s face split into a smile when she spotted me, and I knew I’d have to linger afterward for a chat before I could get to my room.
“I was worried you weren’t going to come.” She pulled me in for a hug. I hadn’t anticipated the physical affection but should have.
“Nearly didn’t.” I awkwardly patted her back.
She released me. “I have to keep an eye on you. I was gearing up to present your work on your behalf.”
“You still can,” I teased. “I could sit in the audience and ask all the questions I wasn’t able to answer.”
She cackled and slapped me on the shoulder. “Oh, it’s good to see you haven’t changed.” She brushed her hair out of her face. She was only in her mid-fifties, but she was almost completely gray. She used to joke that engineering was to blame.
I didn’t think it was a joke.
“For anyone else, I might have. But these young engineers need the formidable Dr. Carden.”
I shifted on my feet and glanced sideward. She always complimented me. I never knew what to do with it. I shoved the compliment to the back of my mind. Her kind words could reside with Elizabeth in the part of my brain housing all the things that made me feel good but confused.
Professor Hahn checked her smartwatch. “Oh! I want to chat with you about a life-changing idea I have, but not now. Professor Van Zyl is in town and wants to grab a coffee. You’re welcome to join us.”
My face must have given me away because my professor chuckled. “He reminds me of you. Anyway, I’ll be in your session.”
“Sure,” I said with a curt nod, and escaped before she could invite me to more things. It was her life’s mission to introduce me to every transport engineer in the world. I was certain we’d already conquered North America.
I hurried up to my room and set the temperature to exactly what I needed it to be before throwing myself face down on the soft duvet.
Now all I needed to do was kill time until my session.
Despite the nerves, I didn’t need to practice my presentation. I’d worked on that research for years. I knew it better than anyone and could recite it in my sleep.
I could work. Elizabeth had sent me a million emails, and after the last few days of working together, I could hear them in her voice when I read them. I could see exactly what she’d look like. She had the slightest frown line between her perfect brows when receiving critique on her designs. Her eyes would narrow when she pushed back. And then there was that easy smile whenever she saw an opening for a joke—which was often. She’d bite down on her bottom lip when she focused and…
Be professional. Be professional. Be professional.
