Page 13 of Starrily (Perks of Being #2)

Chapter 13

“ W e need to talk.”

Simon looked up from his painted masterpiece—or mess, depending on how one looked at it—to Everett, standing in the doorway to his living room. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t shown up at the company for three days, and I needed to talk.”

Oh. “I’ve been busy.”

“I see.” Everett stepped forward. “Fabric painting?”

“It’s silk.”

“Whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively.

Simon put his paints aside and stood. “So what’s this about?”

“It’s good news, actually.” Everett sat on the sofa and crossed his legs, ankle to knee. “I found a new way to raise profits, which means we no longer need Dr. Guidry’s software.”

That was good news. Part of the reason Simon had avoided going to the company for the past few days (aside from his minor crisis of materialness) was his less-than- stellar relationship with Calliope. Everett was bound to ask about his progress any day now.

His avoidance tactics had been moot, though, because one, Everett could come here if he needed to talk, and two, apparently, Simon no longer had to soften up Calliope.

“Great!” He clapped his hands. “Not sure why you couldn’t tell me this over the phone, but it’s nice to know we don’t need to pressure her into selling us the software.”

“I came because you need to sign the contract termination.”

“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 of you .” He fixed Everett with a firm look. “It’s my company, and if I want to invest in Calliope’s project, I will .”

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. “I do want the best for the company.”

“Good. We’re keeping the funding, then.”

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 (because she 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 data didn’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.

Theia’s toys and food, packed around the pink scratcher he’d seen in the corner of Calliope’s living room.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The woman glanced up, confused for a second, before the light of recognition hit her eyes. “You!”

“Do we know each other?” Wait—she was the woman in Calliope’s graduation photo.

“I’m Av—uh.” She put the box down and extended a hand. “Ava. Callie’s friend. And you’re Simon.”

“Ava. She’s mentioned you.”

“She did?”

“She said Theia doesn’t like you.”

“What else is new,” Ava muttered. “The little monstrosity has been in my apartment for two hours, and so far, she’s scratched the couch, the legs of my dining table, and overturned two potted plants. She’s a menace.” She kept her tone light enough Simon knew she didn’t hate the cat. “I came back to get some of her stuff. Maybe that will make her behave better. Thank god it’s only for two days.”

“You’re taking care of Theia while Calliope is gone?”

“Yup. Oh, yeah—if you needed her for something, she’s gone. Wait.” Ava scrunched her nose. “You already know. Sorry, brain fart.”

“No problem. I didn’t need her, anyway. Just wanted to leave this in front of her door.” He waved with the box.

“I hope that’s not chocolates.”

“She doesn’t like chocolate?”

“She loves it. Who doesn’t? But she doesn’t like it as a gift.”

“Good thing it’s not chocolates, then.” He smiled.

“Now you have to tell me. What did you get her?”

“It’s not like that.” The last thing he needed was Calliope’s friend trying to matchmake. “I lost her a scarf once. I brought her another.”

“You—ah. Ohh.”

Simon lifted an eyebrow. “You’re almost at the full alphabet there.”

She waved her hand. “Never mind me. Do you know which one is her apartment?”

“I’ve been there before.”

Her eyes widened. “She let you in?”

“It’s not Fort Knox,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. Ava didn’t seem convinced. “Anyway, nice meeting you,” he continued. “Do you need help with the box?”

“I’ve got it. My car is right there.” She picked up the box, and they maneuvered around the door.

“Simon,” she said just before he closed the door. “May I call you Simon?”

“Sure.”

She put down the box again and approached. “Callie has some issues regarding her relationships. I’m not sure what exactly they are, but she’s … scared. To connect.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s had boyfriends over the years, but she always calls it off before it gets too serious.”

“Like the one she broke up with because he gave her an anniversary ring.”

“She told you about that, too, huh?” Ava inspected him with narrowed eyes. “And how did Theia take to you?”

“She—uh—”

“She liked you, didn’t she?”

Simon shrugged. “Pets like me, in general.”

“Theia is anything but a general pet.” Ava put her hands on her hips. “Callie should listen to her cat sometimes.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Ava rummaged through her bag and pulled out her phone and a piece of paper. She put the paper onto the phone for support and scribbled something on it. “This is Callie’s flight number. It leaves in less than an hour.”

“I know. I bought her the tickets.”

“Of course you also—agh!” Ava stomped her foot. “Please, just go.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My friend is very dumb, and the more she likes someone, the more she’ll push them away. Don’t be the same kind of dumb.” She pushed the note into his hand as if he still needed it. “Now, go catch a flight.”

***

Callie settled into her seat on the plane and busied herself with checking the magazines tucked into the back of the seat to soothe her nerves. Some were the good ones—from looking forward to getting a telescope observation—and others … well, the flight was short. She’d be fine.

Most accidents on planes take place during the take-off and landing. Has nothing to do with the length of a flight.

“Shut up,” she said out loud, then avoided the strange look of a woman on the aisle seat.

Traveling by plane is statistically the safest way to travel. Here, better already.

To stop thinking about planes—a tough task while being on one—she pulled out a book and put in her earphones. She made it to the second page when, from the corner of her eye, she sensed a commotion on the seats next to her, and someone stepping into the row. The seat in the middle should’ve been Jessica’s, but she was running late. So if this person wanted to sit here, it either meant they made a mistake or …

Oh, no. Please tell me I didn’t take someone’s seat again. She pulled out one earphone and prepared for the humiliation.

Instead, Simon slid into the seat next to her. “Hey, Phoenix.” He took off his sunglasses and smiled—casually, as if he was meant to be here. “Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?”