Page 54 of Starrily
“For what?”
Everett sighed. “Her sponsorship.”
“You’re terminating the funding?”
“According to our termination clause, I can. We don’t need the software, we don’t need her. She’s survived without us before. I’m sure she’ll find ways to move on.”
She would, but … Calliope may not have wanted this at the beginning, but he was sure she appreciated it now. She got to spread the love of her profession and teach others about it. She inspired people, and that was all because Everett made Jessica write about it as a cover and nudged Simon in there to provide some additional exposure.
All of that would be gone.
“You can’t do it,” he said to Everett.
“I certainly can.”
“But why now? I told you it would take some time for her to complete her project.”
“True. However, it has come to my attention it’ll take even longer than expected. Something about her not getting data from a canceled observation?” Everett waved around the folder he was carrying.
The telescope observation—the one she couldn’t do because of that damn snowstorm.
“Just wait a little longer,” Simon tried.
“I’ve already figured out another plan that doesn’t involve Dr. Guidry. You are released from your duties.”
Simon just stood there, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
“I thought you’d be overjoyed,” Everett continued. “I distinctly remember you trying your best to weasel out of this. It took some hard convincing on my side.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
Before he’d seen how much difference it made. Before he’d seen how happy it made Calliope.
Before she’d smiled at him.
Not to mention—“What about the rest of the funding? The Selene mission?”
“That one can continue. It’s the Moon—much more flashy than articles about an astrophysicist.”
Simon paced and ruffled his hair. “Calliope’s work is meaningful, too. You can’t do this to her.”
“It’s business. I don’t have to care.”
How could he be so apathetic? Simon straightened up and folded his arms. “But I do.”
“Well, Simon,” Everett’s voice was eerily calm. “You’re not in charge of the finances.”
“But I am in charge ofyou.” He fixed Everett with a firm look. “It’s my company, and if I want to invest in Calliope’s project, Iwill.”
Everett stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Look at that. Showing some spine.”
“I let you do things because you’re good at doing them, not because I lack spine.” Everett wasn’t entirely wrong—Simon had not made any definitive decisions for Aries Tech in a while—but he would not be called spineless.
“I’m glad you still recognize that,” Everett said. “Idowant the best for the company.”
“Good. We’re keeping the funding, then.”
