Page 1 of Toni and Addie Go Viral

Addie

“I know I have my badge somewhere. Just hold on.…” Addie darted a look at the middle-aged man working there as she dug through her tote bag.

A lidless pen, a tube of coral lipstick, several environmentally friendly straws, a few hair clips, a cloth napkin: she piled it all on the desk haphazardly.

She paused, debating this persona. Too far?

She really wanted to get in, though. Desperate times call for awkward moments.… She pulled out a container with a menstrual cup in it.

“Would you hold my cup? Please. I don’t want it to fall on the floor since I need to put it… you know.” She gestured at her crotch and then looked up, giving him her widest eyes. “Never too safe, right?”

The man looked at her with the same appalled look she’d been aiming for. “You know what,” he said in a pained voice, “there’s a crowd building up behind you, and you seem like a nice young woman. Why don’t you just go ahead?”

Channel woodland animals and ingenues, she reminded herself before her victory glee appeared in her eyes and ruined everything. Be sweet! Be clueless!

He crossed his arms over his chest, and she realized she was still holding the cup out.

“Are you sure?” Wide, innocent eyes again. She took a long tendril of the honey-blond highlights in her bland brown hair and twined it around her finger. Lost-damsel-in-the-woods hair always seemed to work.

He scribbled something on a badge, held it out, and gestured her forward. “Enjoy the conference, miss. Don’t lose this one.”

Adelaine shoved all her many items back into her bag.

A part of her hated playing these games, but a larger part of her liked being able to buy groceries.

Paying to get into the lectures would mean that buying food wouldn’t be possible.

Someday when she landed a real gig, a big role, she’d pay her fair way into everything. She’d pay other people’s way.

First, though, she had research to do. There was an order to things—Step 1: research; Step 2: get the role; Step 3: be fabulous. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And then she would have her career dreams met.

On to Step 1!

Addie fell into the flow of attendees, switching from “ingenue” to “just another academic at a conference.” She twisted the fall of hair that reached her low back into a hasty braid, and then clipped it up into a headache-causing bun.

Maybe it’s time to cut it.

Hair aside, she’d dressed for this part, though, and Lady of Shalott hair wasn’t a fit.

Think academic. Over her own jeans, she had added a basic colored blouse she’d picked up at a thrift store and a smart but well-worn sweater.

Not too frumpy, but beige enough that she thought she’d blend.

Her usual style was too much, too notice-me, for this venue, and as with any role, she was dressed in character.

Today’s role was Young Academic.

When she spotted a conference handout on a table, she snatched it up and scanned it until she found her.

Dr. Darbyshire was the real goal, the research Addie needed but in human form instead of a book or video.

Addie had read one of Darbyshire’s articles when she was researching for a role, and while she wouldn’t say she’d fangirled— because really, who fangirled a professor?

—Addie knew “fangirl” was pretty much on the mark.

Any quotes, social media references, and one brief conference video, Addie had collected all of them in a laptop folder labeled THE PROFESSOR SAYS .

Dr. Darbyshire was a handful of years older than Addie’s twenty-seven years, but she was poised, polished, her life together, and she made history seem interesting.

So Addie wasn’t going to miss a chance to hear her speak.

Addie skimmed the panel listing, looking for Dr. Darbyshire’s talk.

ROOM: BALLROOM B

“FRIENDS AND SECRET LOVERS: LESBIAN RELATIONSHIPS IN THE VICTORIAN ERA” —DR. ANTONIA DARBYSHIRE

Addie didn’t bother reading the description.

She had exactly four minutes to get to the ballroom and slip into an unobtrusive seat.

Addie was going to learn how to be a convincing Victorian, and she was going to get a role in the upcoming Victorian stage production of Dracula that posited that Mina and Lucy were the true romantic couple in the tale and retold the entire story from their point of view.

Addie followed several serious-looking women in blazers and trousers into the room.

She glanced at her own thrift-store clothes.

With her jeans, she still looked remarkably American—which she was—but she didn’t want to look it.

Her one exception to her common style of dress was the enormous opal ring she wore on her right hand.

It had been her grandmother’s, and upon pronouncing Addie’s mother “too fickle to marry,” Gran had put it on Addie’s hand. And there it stayed.

Who knew people wore trousers and skirts to a lecture like this?

Addie slipped into a seat in the back row along the aisle. It meant she could lean out slightly and look at Dr. Darbyshire if she needed. Or wanted. It was only a few moments before Addie did just that, taking in the woman at the front of the crowd.

Fangirling the professor…

The professor was thirty-two, according to her online biography. She was slightly older than Addie and taller than Addie’s five feet four inches, but not by too much. She was also exactly the sort of woman to make Addie’s usual ADD hit hyperfixation.

It’s not obsessing if she’s a teacher and I need to learn. That was Addie’s answer, and she was sticking to it. It was even mostly true. She’d discovered the professor in her research, and the fact that she was stunning was just a bonus.

Dr. Darbyshire had a commanding presence, as if she were hoping for trouble so she could show off her muscles.

Her pose was a power stance, feet slightly spread as if bracing for something.

There were curves hidden under her blazer, hinted at by the flared bottom of the jacket, and as the professor turned to say something to an attendee, the angle made clear that she had a swimmer’s body.

Lean and strong. Addie stared at her, appreciating the way her short hair toed a line between professional cut and statement cut.

But then Dr. Darbyshire said, “We are running out of seats, so let’s begin.” She paused, her voice rich in that honey and whisky way that great blues singers had, before teasing, “That way any of you who find my lecture tedious can slip away and leave empty seats for the latecomers.…”

A ripple of laughter greeted her words, and Addie grinned at the sheer arrogance in that statement, as if the professor were daring them to find the talk boring but also absolutely certain they wouldn’t.

Arrogance.

Athletic body.

Husky voice.

Addie had been half-smitten after watching a shaky video that didn’t do justice to Dr. Darbyshire’s presence. Seeing the woman in person was enough to tempt even a rational person—and Addie wasn’t renowned for her common sense.

Trying to stare in “studious” not “smitten,” Addie pulled out her notebook and pen and took more notes than she probably needed, but Dr. Darbyshire was Addie’s secret weapon.

With her knowledge, Addie could understand the Victorians.

Knowledge. Killing the role. Acclaim. Bigger roles. Respect. It was a whole thing. A plan.

Over the next fifty minutes, Addie wrote down enough information to flesh out the persona she needed for the role. Dr. Darbyshire made the information in dry books come to life. She was a gifted teacher.

If I had teachers like her, I’d have gone to college forever.…

After the professor answered the last question, Addie stayed in her seat as the crowd thinned. People stepped over her, and Addie tried to convince her feet to follow. What was she going to do? Walk up and ask Dr. Darbyshire out? Call it a research lunch?

Bad idea, Ads.

But the more Addie looked at the perfect column of Dr. Darbyshire’s throat and listened to her husky voice answer questions for the people gathered around her, the more the thought of talking to Toni Darbyshire, of asking for advice, was increasingly seeming like a perfectly sound plan.

Of course, Adelaine was certain that any plan she created that seemed “perfectly sound” was ill-advised.

She knew herself. Impulsivity typically led to trouble for her.

Addie stared at the professor a bit longer.

She’s a professor. Professors like answering questions.

Finally, Addie stood up and started forward. She had questions. Plus, it was only polite to say “thank you” for the great information.

And she’s talking about women like us. That’s another reason to ask advice on a Victorian-influenced lesbian play… or maybe casually ask if she’s single.

Adelaine knew better. She was a committed romantic, dreaming of forever, saving her heart—and other parts—for the right woman.

A serious history professor who lived on the other side of the ocean was not going to fall for Addie on a conference trip.

And Addie wasn’t going to be all “free love” like her parents.

She might have moved temporarily to Scotland on a whim; she might even pick roles on a whim or adopt personalities to playact.

But when it came to relationships, she was a one-woman kind of person, the marrying kind, the commitment kind.

Then Dr. Darbyshire looked up, catching Addie’s gaze briefly.

Maybe I could just say thank you.…

Head throbbing from the weight of her hair, Addie reached back and unclipped her braid. It fell like Rapunzel’s rope. She took several more steps forward.

Saying thank you for being such a wealth of information was fine, right? And if the professor was responsive, maybe a little flirting and—

A stunning brunette in a plain but very well-fitting dress walked up to Dr. Darbyshire.

“We still on for tonight?” asked the woman. “Or are you standing me up?”

The professor laughed. “As if.”

“Uh-huh. I see that research glimmer in your eye. Someone asked a question that got you thinking.…” The brunette grinned. “Can I trust you to meet me there or will I need to leave my meetings early to pull you out of your laptop?”

Dr. Darbyshire put her hand to her heart. “Emily, I swear I will be on time. Early, even.”

The brunette, Emily, nodded. “Lady’s Hand. Seven.”

“Yes, dear.”

And Addie’s heart sank far more than it should’ve. The professor had a girlfriend that her biography online didn’t mention, and the girlfriend was six shades of sexy.

It wasn’t as if there was a real chance of a relationship with the confident professor anyway.

They would have an ocean between them come Monday.

And Addie wasn’t the sort to let her lust lead her away from The Big Plan: true love, monogamy, and growing old together.

She also wasn’t willing to let lust lead her away from her career goals, which meant returning to her life in LA where the film jobs were, not moving to the East Coast where Dr. Darbyshire lived.

Unlike her parents, Addie had a clear life path in both career and relationship goals, and she would find a way to achieve all of it.

Addie pivoted and walked away from the idea of trying to talk to Dr. Darbyshire after the panel. She wasn’t a home wrecker. Maybe some other time she could ask Dr. Darbyshire questions about the Victorians, but right then, she was too emotional to try to approach her.