Page 36 of Starrily
“The fact that you’re still alive and slightly more attainable might help,” Simon said with an amused look. “You’ll have to face it, Phoenix. Some people, not thatIwould understand, might just start thinking you’re cool.”
***
With the dessert course over, the invitees of the annual AAS dinner mingled, twirling their champagne glasses and conversing in small groups.
“Dr. Guidry in person.” A middle-aged woman in an elegant black dress approached Callie. “Pleasure to meet you outside of the articles.”
“You—uh—you’ve read them?”
“We can’t read research papers and grants all day long, right? Everyone needs a bit of light reading from time to time.” The woman’s light tone was supported by a cheeky beginning of a smile.
“I … yes.”
“If you have time in the near future, I’d love to tickle your brain regarding some theories. Stars becoming black holes without the supernova phase—”
“Oh, absolutely!” Callie curbed her smile, clenching the champagne glass tighter.Don’t act like a deranged fan. Be cool.
“We’ll talk,” the woman said, winked, and moved on to a colleague waving at her.
Callie stayed rooted to the spot until Watzmann came by.
“Quite the successful dinner, wouldn’t you say?” Even for this event, he was still wearing a knitted vest under his jacket, and his wild hair was only slightly tamed.
“That was Lisa Mills-Faraday,” Callie breathed. “Director of Astrophysics Department at NASA.” She looked at Watzmann. “TheDirector of Astrophysics at NASAjust spoke to me.”
Watzmann chuckled and patted her shoulder. “When you’re in league with the big ones, remember us, yes?”
“Oh, I’d never. Change work, not forget you, I mean.”
“You say that now, but eventually, you’ll have to spread your wings and fly.” He wandered off. Callie stayed where she was, enjoying a reprieve after two hours of talking.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Simon.If you are what you eat, and you only eat desserts, do you become a sweeter person?
What on Earth?I think you might become diabetic, she texted back.
I don’t know what I expected.
She shook her head, smiling.I’m at the AAS dinner party. I don’t have time for philosophy.
Pictures, or it didn’t happen.
She took a sneaky photo of the room and sent it to him.
He soon texted back,I see your party, and I raise you mine.Attached was a somewhat blurry photo with diagonally smudged lights. It had to be taken from the upper deck of a yacht, showing people crowding below and the darkness of the ocean beyond.
Show-off, she wrote back. For a minute, no reply came; he probably moved on and went to play beer pong or sing karaoke or whatever it was people did at boat parties. Then her phone buzzed again.
I’d invite you if it weren’t too low-brow for you, Phoenix.
***
Everett plopped a folder onto Simon’s desk. “Your charities, non-profits, and the like. Only requiring your signature.”
Simon opened the folder and quickly ran over the contracts. “See. Wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“It’s not the easiest thing to make the numbers work in our favor, as you should know.” Everett leaned his leg on the desk. “Tell me how you’re progressing with Dr. Guidry.”
Right. The “softening.”
