Everett tapped the folder against his thigh. “If that’s what you want.”
Simon’s insides prickled from the released tension, but he mustered up a smile.
“Looks like I’ve got more work to do. Enjoy your … hobbies.” Everett headed to the hallway, then peeked back into the room. “And be careful. Someone might think you like her, the way you’re defending her.”
Simon forced out a laugh, but as Everett left, he sat back down to his project and let out an unexpectedly anxious breath.
In the time he could remember, he and Everett had never fought before.
***
It was late afternoon. Callie packed up her stuff, letting a scan on the computer run overnight, and headed out of her office. Her mind refused to turn the work off yet, and she was buzzing with plans and ideas as she crossed the lobby. The success of her presentation at Valley Middle School propelled her forward, temporarily clouding other concerns, such as the setbacks of her project. But even beyond that, there was one big problem.
“Hey,” a voice said when she exited the building.
And it was standing right there.
“Hey,” she said back at Simon. “If you need something for the article or Aries, you can come tomorrow. I’m finished with work for today.”
“Good thing I don’t need that, then.” He unpasted himself from the wall. For a moment, as he strode toward her, she got the strangest thought—that he’d say everything was fine, and invite her to do something fun, and when she’d object (becauseshe had to), he’d say something witty, to which she couldn’t say no—
Simon instead pulled out an envelope.
Silly her. It wasn’t Simon who had to seek forgiveness. And she deserved no invites to fun events or quips from him.
“This is for you.” He handed her the envelope. “You have a slot for an observation with a telescope, booked for two nights, starting the day after tomorrow.”
“B-but …” She fumbled with the envelope. “Gemini is booked months in advance.”
“It’s not Gemini. It’s a smaller telescope—”
“I need a specific telescope, though.” She quickly regretted the tone her defenses conjured up.
“I know,” he said softly. “You need one with near-infrared and mid-infrared instruments. This one has them. It’s not as advanced as Gemini, but it was the best I could do.”
“You did this?”
He shrugged. “We can’t leave Jessica with no material for her articles. The plane tickets are in there—for you, Jessica has hers. She’s looking forward to going to an observation site in person.”
Of course. He was doing this for the article and his reputation.Local entrepreneur makes a bad decision and collaborates with a useless scientist who can’t even gather her datadidn’t sound like a great headline. But this way, Jessica got her cool pictures, and Simon got his science credentials.
And she got what she direly needed for her project, so why was she annoyed?
“Thanks.” She swallowed a feeling that smelled strangely of jealousy. “How did you manage it?”
“I have connections.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. “It’s in the mountains near San Diego—”
“The Falton Observatory. I know it.”
“That one, yeah. I’ve been near there a couple of times. Skydiving.” He swiveled on his feet. “Anyway, enjoy. I hope you get the data you need.”
He was gone so fast she couldn’t respond. She stood there for a minute more, holding the half-open envelope in her hands, wondering why she was more sad about Simon’s behavior toward her than joyous about her new opportunity.
***
Two days later, Simon found himself in front of Calliope’s apartment building. He was a coward: he’d intentionally waited for her to leave for her flight until he came here. He weighed the slim, white box he was carrying. It wouldn’t fit into the mailbox, but he could leave it in front of her apartment door—the apartment complex felt safe enough.
The main door opened as he was about to reach for the doorbell to find someone who’d buzz him in. A woman came out, struggling with the door while holding a large carton box. As Simon held the door open for her, his eyes passed over the contents of the box.