Page 33 of Starrily
Jessica’s head bobbed back and forth during their exchange.
“If you had to code this, you’d prefer to work in silence, too,” Callie said, hoping to put the matter to rest.
“What is this for?” Jessica pointed to the table displayed on Callie’s screen.
“Star types. We want the ones deep red in color, as they’re the oldest.”
Simon walked over to the half-wall of her desk, leaned on it, and looked at Callie. “Oh, be a fine girl, kiss me.”
Jessica dropped her phone.
Callie stuttered, heat rushing to her cheeks. But when she locked eyes with him, all she saw behind the deep, twinkling blue was his typical amusement. He was teasing her. “It’s a mnemonic to remember star types,” she explained to Jessica, then broke eye contact with Simon.
“Oh. Can you repeat that? Gotta put it in the article.”
“The types are O, B, A, F, G, K, and M, going from the brightest and hottest to the dimmest and coldest ones. The namings aren’t very intuitive, hence the mnemonic, which all astronomers know.” But Simon wasn’t an astronomer. How didheknow it?
“So the stars our dear doctor is looking for would be thekiss-mes,” Simon said to Jessica and winked at Callie.
“Definitely putting that quote in.”
Callie sighed. Why did she, when he’d said the mnemonic, think he was flirting with her?You idiot.The man threw out winks like they were on a Black Friday sale. She had no reason to believe she was anyone special to him.
Frustrated at the thought—what was next, actually wanting to be someone special?—she huffed and swiveled on her chair, only to come back eye-to-eye with Simon.
He smiled at her innocently and waved his phone. “Take A Chance On Me?”
***
“Do we have to do this?” Callie dragged her heels before the entrance to the clothing store.
Ava paused in between the opened automated doors. “You’re being invited to a very fancy dinner with your very fancy Astrological, Agricultural—”
“Astronomical Society.”
“It has a seven-course menu, so it’s fancy. And you have one appropriate dress, which is five years out of fashion.”
“It’s a perfectly fine dress. You think some astrophysicist will shun me for wearing the same dress twice? Even if they knew I’d worn that dress before—”
Ava pulled her into the store. “Girl, your cat has more clothes than you do.”
“She’s just so cute in tiny Christmas sweaters,” Callie weakly objected.
At least she didn’t have to do much. Ava led her from rack to rack, piling on the potential candidates. Occasionally, Callie would extend her hand toward a dress, and Ava would slap it away, like a mother trying to prevent her child from drinking a cleaning product.
“I think that’s all of them,” Ava said after three circles around the store.
Callie leaned past the pile of fabric in her arms. “Youthink?”
But the worst wasn’t yet over; next, she had to try them all on. She knew Ava meant the best for her, and her old dress would probably be a bad choice for the dinner Callie had been invited to—an annual event attended by some of her coworkers, people she’d love to have as coworkers one day, and even very important names in the world of science. So she was glad Ava was here to help.
But when she criticized the clothes, Callie got second-hand embarrassmentforthe dresses.The color is unflattering. Makes your butt too big. Cut too low. Cut too high.Black, beige, burgundy, blue; sleeveless, strapless, with belt, pencil skirt, jumpsuit.
Finally, Callie paused in front of the mirror inside her dressing room, taking in her latest victim.This looks right.The color was on the daring side—a salmon pink—but the cut was simple enough to hold back the extravagance, and besides, Callie liked it. She maybe,maybe, looked just a little bit pretty.
Which wasn’t terribly important for the dinner, but if it was going to be her dress, she might as well feel good in it.
It would make a nice date dress.
