Page 28 of Starrily

Well, you’re here. Say something.

“Nice office,” she squeezed out.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to say it doesn’t reflect the personality of its owner?”

“It is pretty clean—uh, not that you’re not clean—I mean—”

Simon laughed. “It’s an office. If you want more personality, there are always private tours I can arrange.”

Callie just had the time to blush before he continued, “I’m joking. Don’t mention it to Jessica, though. I’m sure she’s dying to see the inside of my house. Speaking of which, where is our hyperactive journalist?”

“She’s not with me this week.”

“All alone then. You must be enjoying it.”

“Actually …” she wrung her hands. “I wanted to apologize for my outburst at the observatory.”

“Your boss made you do that?”

“What?”

“Apologize. I’m not going to cut funding if that’s what you’re worried about. We made a contract, and I’ll stand by it.” He sat and leaned back in his chair to a point where Callie was afraid he might lose balance.

She considered his assumption. She could say it was true to save her pride, to make sure he knew she was only doing this because she had to.

“Nobody asked me to,” she said instead. “I’m only looking to preserve our collaboration because it’s best for everyone.”

“You didn’t give the impression it was the best for you.”

“Can’t you just accept the apology?”

“Fine.” He stood up and executed an elegant bow. “There. Apology accepted. You’re free.”

“You’ll come back to work then?”

“Only if I can pick what music we’re listening to.”

“Uh—”

“Joking again,” he said, and she could swear he added, under his breath, “This is going to be harder than I thought.” But then he cleared his throat, and continued, “Tuesday, then?”

“I won’t be there on Tuesday. I’m giving a talk. At a university.” In front of a packed hall of students. Judgemental students. Bored students. Let’s-make-a-viral-video-of-this-awkward-scientist kind of students, probably. “So, Friday.” Assuming she survived until then.

“A talk, huh?”

“It’s nothing special.”

He slowly approached. “That’s not the body language of someone who thinks the talk isn’t important.” He cocked his head. “Or of someone relaxed.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got this.”

“Like you had posing for photos?”

She tried to straighten up into a more dignified position. “I don’t have to be the greatest speaker ever. They’ll be there for the science.”

“Oh, my dear Phoenix.” He shook his head. “That’s not how it works at all. Come.” He grabbed her by the hand and, before she could object, pulled her out of the office. He led her down somehallways until he opened a door, checked the room beyond, then invited her inside.

“Not exactly an auditorium, but it’ll do.”