“Good. Another long one.”
“But you love it.”
“Yes, I really do. Just finished another update to the sensor calculations, so I’ll run another test tomorrow.” I hesitated. “But there’s a board meeting tomorrow morning. Richard just stopped in. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“You think he’s finally caved?”
The icky feeling immediately escalated to nausea and I sat down. “God, Sarah, I really do. I feel like this is a tightrope I’ve been walking for years. SEAS will be worth a fortune if I ever get it working right. And he has sunk a lot of R & D funding into it.”
Sarah’s voice was soothing, her eyes sincere. “We knew this was always a possibility, right? No sense in getting worked up. Whatever happens, whoever ends up in control of SEAS, they’ll have to keep you on, no one else could replace you. It’s your baby.”
“I know. That’s the problem. I have such hopes for it.”
“Again, no sense in fussing over it now. Let’s see what happens and we’ll roll with the punches as they come.”
This was how she’d been when I met her twelve years ago, when I first started working for Richard, straight out of school. Two years of working on her development team had bonded us, and she’d been pivotal in convincing Richard to even assess my proposal in the first place. When she’d retired five years ago I had cried. Not in front of her, but after her party, alone in my studio apartment, I had cried.
“I’m proud of you, you know.” Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
“Thanks.” My voice sounded strangled and I cleared my throat.
“Feeling OK today?”
Sarah gave me the usual song and dance, that she was great and I shouldn’t worry, before changing the subject, talking about the weather in London, and then signing off saying she was going to have a cup of tea and go to bed.
I took my mug to the sink in the back of the room to rinse it out, leaving it to dry in the rack before grabbing my purse. The strap caught on the hook and when I yanked on it, the entire damn thing upended, dumping crap all over the floor.
I stood there for a minute, among the lip gloss and gum wrappers, the half eaten bag of gummy bears, two granola bars, keys, flashlight, duct tape, and wallet. The compass Wyatt had given me.
I picked it up. The cracked face, the bent casing. I held it for a second, feeling its familiar weight in my palm, and my chest went tight the way it always did. I shoved it into my pocket and finished cleaning up the mess.
Three years of working on this thing, of begging for one more round of funding.
The hotel bar was literally across the street, but crossing a street in Santa Monica at rush hour was taking your life in your hands. No way I was going to try to get my car started just to go ten feet though, my 2006 Corolla was a cranky piece of work and I needed a drink and a friendly shoulder, not a mechanical revolt and an hour tinkering to get it going.
So I dodged traffic, then dodged men as I made my way to the bar to meet Mia, who was already seated and had ordered me a drink. The place was packed—everyone in here had somewhere to go after this, someone to get home to. I had Mia and a lemon drop. That was enough.
“I love you.” I breathed, as I took a sip of the lemon drop before I even sat down.
“I know.” Mia grinned.
“I was talking to the drink, thankyouverymuch.”
“Liar.”
I hugged her neck before I sat down. “You look amazing. I should never meet you after work.”
I looked down at the boring black pants and blue sweater I was wearing. I probably had five or six pairs of these pants, exactly the same. Once I found something that fit and washed well, I invested. I didn’t have the money for dry-cleaning, and I didn’t have the time for ironing and fussing with picking outa new outfit every day. How Mia managed to look put together and classy and still handle her more-than-full-time job was a mystery to me.
I glanced around at the crowd. Women who’d come from work wore sassy pencil skirts and blouses, with long glossy locks flipped over shoulders or short bobs showing off cheekbones. I self consciously tucked a stray wisp of hair back up into the knot on my head. One more thing that I hadn’t bothered to mess with in ages.
Mia bumped me with her shoulder. “Cut it out.”
“What?”
“You know what. Stop worrying about what you’re wearing or your hair. You’re fucking stunning and every woman in here wishes she had your bone structure so she could forget the makeup and just walk around all gorgeous and natural all day.”
I shrugged off her compliment. “You love me. Your opinion doesn’t count.”
