TWELVE Sebastian #2
“Busy is exactly what I’m looking for. I’m good at it.
I like to have a purpose, and a role like this has the responsibility and time commitment I handle well.
” I scoot forward. My foot taps on the carpet, excited.
Hungry, and with big dreams I’m seeing clearly for the first time.
“I, ah, also brainstormed a couple of ideas on the drive over. Things that are out of the box, but could be beneficial to the community. And the office.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Right. Um.” I fix my pant leg, hiding the socks I put on this morning that are decorated with umbrellas.
“It’s sort of an outreach program with local school groups to foster excitement for weather at an early age.
The NWS has a responsibility to be available around the clock.
When you’re interacting with the public, most of the time it’s because an emergency is unfolding.
I think it’s important to create a platform that prioritizes education and understanding so people know they can trust you in the time of a crisis. ”
“Excellent suggestions, Sebastian.” George jots a note in the margin on the paper in front of him. His praise makes me beam. “I love candidates who are go-getters. With your experience and enthusiasm, I don’t doubt you’d bring anything less than excellence to the table.”
There are some more formalities. Questions about how so-and-so is doing, the network of meteorologists small but mighty.
After the interview, George gives me a tour of the building.
He points out the operations floor and introduces me to some of the team.
We stop by and say hello to Danny, and he’s quick to give me a high five.
“It’s good to see you, man. What do you think of the place?” he asks when George leaves me with a handshake and a promise to follow up soon.
“It’s different from my studio in New York, but trust me when I say that’s not a bad thing.” I laugh, surveying the space. Imagining myself working here. “How are the other candidates looking?”
“There’s a good mix of qualifications.” He points across the room to the watercooler, and I follow the line of his hand. “What do you know about Quincy Monroe?”
“I know a lot of things.”
“What’s she like?”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, man,” I say.
“Come on, Seb.” Danny scoots his chair my way. “Is she smart? Can she keep up with how fast things are going to move around here? There’s no threat of a hurricane to the United States, but tomorrow a Category 5 could be knocking on our door.”
“You haven’t seen her show, have you?”
“I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never watched it.”
“If you did, you’d know she’s smarter than everyone in this room combined. Probably works twice as hard as all of us too. Trust me when I say she knows her shit.”
“Really?” He sounds impressed. A little awed. Makes sense, since that’s how I feel too. The Quincy fucking Monroe effect. “Damn. She just earned herself a new subscriber.”
“It’s called The Rainy Day Show. She has over a million followers.”
“You know a lot about her. Are you two close?”
“Not like that.” I rub the back of my neck, staring at the watercooler.
She’s deep in conversation with a guy wearing an official-looking badge, nodding along like he’s saying the most interesting things in the world.
“Not at all, really. Friends is too strong a word to describe our relationship, but I’ve been around her for fifteen years. It’s unavoidable.”
“Is there going to be any trouble if one of you gets the job over the other?”
“Keeping her on her toes is one of my favorite hobbies. But, no. We’re adults. An employment opportunity isn’t going to spark a war.”
“Damn. It’s a shame we can’t give you both the job. It would be fun to see you all go head-to-head.” Danny pops to his feet and grins. He watches Quincy leave the operations floor, clearing his throat. “Can you introduce me to her?”
“Pretty sure you’ll be public enemy number one if you admit you’re a friend of mine.” I shove my hands in my pockets. Irritation claws at the base of my spine, but I plaster on a smile. “We can give it a shot, though.”
We exchange casual conversation on our walk through the building.
He gives me the ins and outs of working in the office, asks how Mia is doing, and mentions there’s a recreational rowing team in Orlando looking for a seat filler.
I ask about his life outside of work, laughing when he shows me photos of the dog he rescued three months ago.
When we make it to the lobby, I look around for the flash of her dark hair. The echo of her laugh or the hint of her smirk. It’s empty, save for a receptionist sitting behind a large desk, and I frown.
“Sorry, dude,” I say. “She must’ve headed back to town.”
“Damn. Well, I’m sure she’ll get a second interview. I’ll have a chance to meet her then. And I know you’ll be back too.” Danny sticks out his hand, and I shake it. “See you soon, Seb.”
I step outside, squinting up at the sun escaping from behind a cloud. I shrug off my jacket and take a deep breath, the fresh air letting go of my nerves before I hear a noise to my left.
“Did you give it your best shot?” someone calls out.
I scan the parking lot until I find her leaning against my car, elbows on the hood. She’s grinning, and I smile on instinct.
“You’re going to hate me, but I think it went really well.
” I stride her way, stopping when I’m in front of her.
“I gave George some ideas I’ve been tossing around.
Got a nice firm handshake. All in all, it was a good day.
My phone should be ringing with an invitation for a second interview any second now. ”
“You’re right. I do hate you,” she says, but her grin stays in place.
“How about you?” I tap her shoe with mine. “How did it go?”
“I’ve never been one to boast about my social media presence, but when I mentioned how many followers I have, George dropped his coffee mug.”
“Look at you out here impressing people.”
“What took you so long to finish up? I figured you’d be done before me since you went in first.”
“Miss me, Monroe?” I put a hand on the warm metal of the car, propping myself up. “I was busy talking to one of your secret admirers.”
“Secret admirer?” Quincy snorts. “I doubt that’s true.”
“It’s true. Danny? The guy with the silver platter? He was asking about you.”
“Oh.” She rubs her thumb across her collarbone. “Is he nice?”
“He’s fine. You’ll meet him at the second round of interviews.”
“Better than terrible, I guess.” There’s a long pause. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “I want to apologize.”
“Apologize?” I lift an eyebrow. “For what?”
“You shared important things with me when we were at Waffle House. About your career, about being unhappy. It was …” She stops for a breath.
It seems like she’s trying to psych herself up for this next part.
“It was shitty of me to imply you couldn’t get an interview for this position on your own.
You’re good at what you do. You’re more than qualified and—” Her tongue sneaks out of her mouth.
I deserve a goddamn medal for not staring at it. “I’m sorry.”
I dig the toe of my dress shoe in the dirt. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t— It’s fine. Really.”
“If I’m going to get this job, I want it to be because I’m the best candidate, not because I resorted to low blows against my competition.” Quincy sticks out her hand. I take it, intertwining our fingers. “Truce?”
“Truce,” I repeat, murmured acceptance. “Until the second interview. Then I’m going to kick your ass, Quinny baby.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Tell me more about how it went in there.”
“It was … fine? I guess?” She pulls her palm free from mine and smooths out her skirt.
“It would be nice to walk into a room and be appreciated for who I am as a scientist, not because someone sees me as a check in the box as a woman. It … it sucks. That feeling of inadequacy. Of knowing this is who I am, and it might not ever be good enough.” She fills the pause with a sad laugh.
Quiet hesitation. A secret, just for me.
“I want to feel appreciated. In my personal life. In my career. I guess that’s asking for too much. ”
“Danny said he was sure you’d be asked back for a second interview.” I glance up. Dull shades of gray are taking over the sky. It’s probably going to rain soon. Appreciated. “I know you will be.”
“We’ll see. Anyway.” There’s a huff. The flip of her hair over her shoulder. “On to other things.”
“Tropical Storm Eliza formed in the Atlantic while we were in there.”
“It did? Any chance of an East Coast hit?”
“None. Recurve out to sea.”
“Thanks for giving me the conversation piece for my show tomorrow.”
“I expect full credit.” I look at her, glad to find her smiling. “You heading back to town?”
“Yeah. Mia and Harlow want to do dinner together. A celebration, they told me. Even though there’s nothing to celebrate yet.” Quincy sidesteps around me, unlocking her car parked three spots over. “I have my eye on you.”
“It’s about time you keep up. I always have my eye on you.” I knock her shoulder with mine and open the driver’s-side door. “Don’t think about me too much until I see you again.”
“I told you I don’t think about you at all.”
“You should.” I drape my arms over the curve of the doorframe. “I’d make it worth your while.”
“Goodbye, Dunn.”
“Hey, Monroe,” I call, and she looks back at me. “I know I don’t have a lot of pull, but I appreciate you. Just so you know.”
Her face softens. She gives me a single nod that holds an immense amount of weight. I climb in the car and buckle my seat belt, smiling all the way home.