Page 13 of The Austen Escape
“Perhaps... And I might take you up on that invitation. Friday nights will be less awkward when I don’t work here.” He smiled at my expression. “Consultants and clients aren’t a good mix socially. It’s like regular staff feel I’m a spy or a lawyer bound to secrecy. They either say nothing or everything, and I’m in trouble either way.”
“Did I do that?”
“Never. You stay right in that middle band. Half the time I’m not sure what you’re thinking. Amend that—more than half the time.” He faced forward again and took the last bite of his half of the cupcake. “No wonder you love these things.”
I peeked at my watch. It was still set to my heart rate: 155. Faster than it beat during a good run. I looked back to Nathan, wondering if he could hear it. I could certainly feel it.
He glanced at me, and I bent over my watch to hide what I was sure my face revealed.
“I should go. I have a lot to wrap up in two days.”
“Me too.” He stood first.
I started to walk away until a quick tap turned me back.
“I am sorry, Mary. I know Golightly meant a lot to you and I know...” He gripped the back of his neck. “Talk to her, okay? Keep Karen in the loop on everything. She’ll like that. She requires that. It might help smooth the way forward.”
“I doubt it.” I caught a sigh before it fully escaped. “Thank you, though. I’ll get over it soon enough.”
His face clouded.
“I will... I have to.” I looked back to the building and felt myself falter. I wasn’t sure if it was the heat, the run, or that I’d stood too quickly, but my vision swam in little stars. “You will keep in touch, right? Consider Friday nights?” I heard the slight panic in my voice and lowered it. “I mean, I’ll see you later?”
Doubt flickered through his eyes as if he was trying to figure out what I was really asking.
“Sure.”
We walked back in together, but I was focused on one thought and my need to remember it.
I’ll get over it—and him—soon enough.
The afternoon, a complete waste, was almost over. My desktops—actual and virtual—looked like those of someone about to go on a two-week vacation. Too clean. I’d also created two new wire figurines: a rhinoceros, complete with a tiny 22-gauge orange horn, and a bright-green bicycle. I was branching out.
Moira’s voice interrupted my daydreaming. “Why the long sighs?”
I looked up to see her leaning over the wall. “I had another talk with Karen today, and it wasn’t good.”
Moira nodded.
“It’s no big deal.” I rolled my chair a few inches away. “How much can it matter? It’s just a job, and engineers are always in demand.”
Moira pulled straight as if what I’d said made no sense. “You keep telling yourself that.” Then she raised an eyebrow and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Nathan’s headed this way.” She dropped out of sight.
I rolled back to my computer, and a moment later I heard a finger tap on the metal edge of the low wall.
“Hey you. I’m heading out.” He looked down and canvassed my desk. “A rhino and... I love the bike. What stymied you today?”
I smiled and shifted the bicycle. “Boredom. We’re waiting ona prototype of Benson’s earbud and I have no projects of my own right now.”
“Ah...” He propped himself next to me and picked up a giraffe made from 20-gauge black wire. “Henry in finance told me you gave him a bear for his daughter’s birthday. Said it was her favorite gift. Will you make me one?”
“Take her.” I closed his fingers around the giraffe. “Her name is Pandora.” I laughed at his furrowed brow. “I made her while trying to work out Golightly’s power sequencing. Like Pandora’s box, each path led to endless problems. But”—I tapped his forefinger—“hope remained. Until now of course.”
He handed the giraffe back to me. “Hope still remains, and I’ll wait. You’ll make one while you solve that sequencing problem. Because I know you—you’re not giving up.” He grinned. “You’ll simply move it to your weekend ponderings. The wire creature that gets you there—that’s the masterpiece I want. Maybe a trout?”
“A trout?”
“Any fish will do.”
