23. Nicole
Chapter twenty-three
Nicole
“ M olly!” I squeal when my sister walks into the hotel lobby. Leaving Adam in the coffee line, I run to give her a hug. She squeezes me back, and I’m once again grateful that this conference is happening in the very city where my big sister lives. I’m also grateful she’s willing to come watch my presentation and celebrate with me over dinner afterward. Molly is practically a genius—a scientist who spends most of her time in the lab working on, I don’t know, saving the world or something. She’s been interested in my work when we’ve talked about it before, but I also know it’s hard for her to change up her normal routine, so it means a lot that she ditched whatever she usually does on a Sunday afternoon and evening to be with me today.
Adam approaches us with a cup in each hand. “Your matcha latte,” he says, handing me one of the cups. Turning to Molly, he says, “I don’t know what you like, or I would have gotten you one too. This is an Americano, if you want it.”
“No, I’m good. But thank you,” Molly responds then looks at me expectantly.
“Oh! Sorry. Adam, this is my sister, Molly. Molly, this is Adam, my, um, coworker I told you about.”
Adam’s eyes snap to mine briefly, and then he smiles slowly. Turning to Molly, he says, “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Molly says.
Adam shifts his gaze back on me. “So,” he teases, “you've been talking to your sister about me?”
My face warms and I quickly stutter, “Well, I mean that we’re presenting together. Molly’s coming to the presentation, so I was telling her about the presentation and how you’ll be at the presentation because it’s also your presentation…” I trail off lamely.
Molly watches my face with interest, but luckily, she doesn’t say anything. Our younger sister, Olivia, would not be as kind.
“Right,” Adam says smoothly. “The presentation.” He glances at his phone. “Speaking of which, I’m going to head over to the conference center. I’ll leave you to catch up. See you in a bit?”
I nod as he walks away. The presentation isn’t for another couple of hours, but I know he’s nervous about it. Interesting how the tables have turned. Adam, who’s calm and collected in most situations, dreads this presentation. And while I worry incessantly about almost everything in my life, I feel confident about the presentation. I know my stuff and that people will find it valuable .
And dressing to impress helps a lot. I’m wearing black and white plaid, tweed-style dress pants that fit me like a glove without being uncomfortable (elastic waistband for the win!). My shirt is a rose gold-colored V-neck with a Swiss dot pattern and ruffle sleeves. On my feet are my favorite silver ballet flats. I feel confident in this outfit—it’s professional, but feminine, and comfortable so I won’t be fiddling with my clothes instead of focusing on the presentation. I look good.
I wonder if Adam noticed , the unhelpful voice in my head asks. As usual, I ignore it.
When Adam is outside the automatic doors, Molly turns to me, and we walk toward one of the couches in the lobby. “So…” she says, and I brace myself.
“So…” I echo as we sit.
“You never mentioned how handsome Adam is. As a matter of fact, I believe you actually texted that he is not cute.” She smirks at me knowingly.
Did I? I try to remember as I take a sip of my latte. Was there a time when I didn’t appreciate the way his hair falls across his forehead, no matter how hard he tries to keep it combed back? When I didn’t look into his honey brown eyes and find myself drowning a little? Or notice the lean strength of his arms? No, he’s definitely attractive. A fact I can ignore less and less the more I spend time with him and the more I get to know him.
I shrug. “So, he’s cute,” I say defensively. “So what? ”
“So, seems like there’s more to him than just cute. What happened on the drive over here? You texted about car troubles.” She nudges my hand for a sip of my latte, so I hand her the cup.
I tell Molly everything about the drive to New Orleans. She’s jealous about the Buc-ee’s—there aren’t any in Louisiana. She gasps when I describe hitting the piece of metal and hugs me as I confess to the panic attack. The look in her eyes shifts from concern to interest when I tell her how much I shared with Adam at the auto shop. I even tell her about the time he and I have been spending together at the conference—how he carried my books and how we’ve been eating every meal together.
“Oh my gosh, Nicole, this is the cutest falling in love story I’ve ever heard.” Molly gushes when I’ve finished.
“Pssh,” I protest. “No, we’re just coworkers.” Molly looks at me with her eyebrows raised. “Friends,” I amend. “Work friends. Work friend type people. That’s all.”
“Why do you insist on friend-zoning this man? Because all I see are green flags.”
“I’m not friend-zoning him, it’s just friendly is all I feel toward him.”
Molly arches her eyebrow. I huff out a breath. “Okay,” I say. “So, it’s the kind of opposite gender friendship that would make our significant others uncomfortable if we had them, but still just friendship.”
Molly clicks her tongue in disbelief. “Friendship is not all he feels for you, I can tell you that right now. Everything you’ve told me? He’s showing you he wants more. ”
I sigh. “And that’s a problem. Look, I can’t like Adam, because he likes me, which means I don’t like him.”
“Um, what?” Her eyebrows pinch together above her round glasses.
“I’ve made some pretty bad choices in the past with men,” I say. Molly’s face softens. “And they all started when a guy I would have never really considered said he was interested in me. I need to be into a man because of who he is, not because he was into me first.”
Molly takes my hand. “I hear you, and I know Steven really hurt you. I can understand how that experience would make you hesitant to trust your heart to someone new. But those were his issues, not yours. Nicole, are you sure what you’re feeling is just because he likes you? I mean, can you list things about Adam that you like, things that make him a good man and would make him a great partner?”
Of course I can. Easily. It would be a long list. But I can’t let my brain go there. I just don’t trust myself. I shake my head.
Molly bites her lip and haltingly says, “Are you sure … you’re not taking advantage of Adam?”
My eyes jump up to hers. “What?” I croak out.
“You know he likes you. Despite what you say , you like him, too, and I have to wonder if you’re maybe sending him nonverbal signals that might be confusing if you don’t actually want to date him?” Molly’s eyes are soft, but her words hit my heart like an Oxford English Dictionary to the toe.
“Am I?” I whisper. My unfocused gaze blurs all the more as I internally reel through my interactions with Adam over the last few months .
“I don’t know, Nicole, but if you truly don’t want to date Adam, you need to have a frank conversation with him about it. It’s not fair to string him along.”
Have I been stringing Adam along? I haven’t meant to. I shake my head. “Mol, let’s just forget it, okay? Let’s talk about something else.”
She hesitates. Then she nods. “Sure,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. “Tell me more about your presentation.”
Molly and I arrive at the conference center with time to spare before the presentation. The session before ours in the room we’ve been assigned seems to have finished early. I peek through the door to see Adam at the front of the room getting a laptop situated and connected to the display screen. I step forward to help him, but Molly pulls me back.
“What do you think about asking Adam to join us for dinner?” she asks.
“That’d be great, if you don’t mind,” I say. “We’re celebrating the presentation, and he’s part of that.” I shrug. “Only seems fair.”
“Agreed. Plus, I’d like to talk to him more. It’s my job as your big sister.” She grins.
I roll my eyes. “I already told you it’s not like that,” I say. “But listen, can you ask him? I don’t want to seem … whatever. ”
She nods, and we head into the room. Adam sees us walking up the aisle and waves weakly. “How are you holding up?” I ask him as we approach.
Adam lets out a long breath. “I’m nervous,” he admits. “I’m used to being the behind-the-scenes guy, not the guy everyone’s looking at.”
“Hey,” I say, placing my hand on his arm and waiting until he meets my eyes. “You’ll do great. We practiced a bunch, and we’ll work together. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging.”
His face relaxes and the corners of his mouth tip up. “Thanks, Nicole,” he says quietly. “That means a lot.”
Molly clears her throat. “Hey, Adam. We were wondering…” I glare at her. “I was wondering,” she amends, “if you’d like to join Nicole and me for dinner after this. To celebrate your presentation.”
“I don’t want to intrude on your time together,” Adam protests.
“No, you wouldn’t be,” Molly reassures him.
Adam looks at me, a question in his eyes.
“Please, Adam,” I say, holding his gaze. “I want you to come.”
Adam smiles shyly. “In that case,” he says. “Of course I’ll come.”
“Awesome!” Molly says, thrusting out her hands in a double thumbs-up. “I’ll leave you two to finish setting up.” She moves to the back of the room and takes a seat.
As our presentation’s start time inches closer, the room fills up. And then overflows. When the room moderator calls everyone to attention, the audience is standing room only, with a few people still trickling in and settling against the side walls of the room .
The moderator introduces us, and I speak first, giving the background and purpose of the graphic novel collection.
“Welcome everyone, and thanks for being here. Today, we’ll walk you through the processes we followed to start a graphic novel collection in our liberal arts college library,” I begin in a clear, confident voice.
Despite our practice and training, Adam’s nerves show through during the presentation. His hands are visibly shaking, so he shoves them into his pockets. His voice is a bit shaky, too, nothing like his cool, assured timbre when we’re talking one-on-one. But the content is spot on, and I jump in on his parts when it looks like he needs help. Overall, I think it’s going great, especially judging by the profusion of questions and comments at the end.
Our session is in the last time slot of the day, and with no one coming in behind us, we hang out for close to fifteen extra minutes answering additional questions and sharing experiences with the other librarians in attendance.
I’m riding the high of accomplishment, of being good at my chosen career. What I’m doing at work is making a difference in people’s lives. I’m meaningfully contributing to my profession. After the hard work Adam and I have put into the graphic novel collection project over the last six months, it’s validating to know that our ideas are well-received and appreciated by our peers. It strikes me again what a big deal it is to present at NLA; how this room was overflowing with colleagues interested in hearing what I had to say. Contentment washes over me, calming me internally in a way I can’t remember feeling in years.