Request for Proposal

Chapter Twelve

Ashish

Too nervous to sit in the waiting room, I give my name to the student at the front desk. Pacing feels better than sitting, movement always helps me. I hear firm steps coming down the hall and turn to see Gail Locke, a short older woman, making her way toward me. She smiles, but it’s somehow not friendly.

“Ashish, good to see you again. How was the move?”

I nod and walk toward her, a little disappointed. I thought I would see Bernadette first. I look behind her, expecting her to appear, maybe punch me in the face or something. “Hello. Good to see you.” I shuffle the box and reach a hand out to shake. She gives me a brisk squeeze and looks at the box I’m holding.

“When did you get to town?”

“Moved into my apartment a couple of days ago. It was a long drive, but so far, so good.” I look down at the box and then back at her. “I’ve brought these for your team, hope you like sweets.”

Gail gives me an amused smile and arches one of her eyebrows. Am I that transparent?

I flash a smile. “I have a big sweet tooth; if I give them to others, then I have the excuse to indulge myself.”

“Hmm, well you’re in good company here. We have a couple of people on our team who love sweets. Come on in, we’re all in the conference room. Figured it would be good to meet the whole team all together. Did you have a chance to meet anyone else back in June?” she asks.

I lick my lips, not sure how to play this, so I avoid answering. For now, I’m going to follow Bernadette’s lead. Unfortunately, I need to see her before I can do that with any kind of effectiveness.

I follow Gail down the hallway toward a big conference room with an interior wall of large glass panels. Bernie’s sitting with windows to her back, facing the transparent wall, two guys in the seats next to her. There’s a third man, in profile. He’s older, wearing glasses and a suit. Gail pushes the door open and I follow her in.

“Our guest of honor has arrived with treats,” Gail says, making her way to a cabinet and pulling out paper plates and napkins. I place the cinnamon rolls at the end of the table and walk to where the group is clustered at the other end of the room. Bernie’s flanked by her co-workers, no space for me. It’s probably for the best. I want to see her face. I missed her. Getting closer, I recognize the guy with glasses as Kyle Myers, the dean of West Lafayette’s school of engineering.

“Ashish.” He stands to shake my hand, giving me a wide smile. Myers is a mechanical engineer. Overall a good guy from what I’ve observed, if maybe a little set in the old ways, where you weed out the weak through a hard first year, rewarding the remaining with more hands-on classes. With the money from the Department of Ed, it wasn’t hard to convince West Lafayette to say yes, but I wasn’t entirely sure how immersive he was willing to go with the cohort of engineering students. I had some issues getting folks on board when we started to build and test the model at MIT.

“Kyle, good to see you.” I give him a firm handshake and sit down next to him. It’s the best seat to see Bernie, who sits not quite across from me. Her face is flushed and she is looking intently at her laptop. Gail sits next to her at the head of the table and sets a plate with a cinnamon roll next to her laptop, scraping some of the frosting off with her fork.

“Well, it looks like you’ve already found the best bakery,” Gail says. “The baker overdid it on the frosting this morning, huh?” She smiles and chews, giving me a little wink. I tell myself I’m being paranoid. This woman doesn’t know shit about what happened between Bernie and me.

Gail sips some coffee and continues.

“Let’s go ahead and start with introductions to make sure we all know each other. The goal for today is to go over the proposal, look at the evaluation metrics from the RFP, and answer any questions you might have. Moving forward, Bernie and Ashish will be working with engineering to execute this project. Kyle, obviously your team will need to provide support to get the cohort set up for the spring semester, but Bernie is our point from this office. So…” Gail puts her fork down. “Who do you know in the room, Ashish?”

Bernie’s eyes snap up to mine and she gives the tiniest shake of her head. I want to reach across the table, wrap my fist around her braid, and kiss the hell out of her. The idea of pretending I don’t know her, well, it doesn’t suit me. I mean, it might have been short but it was still life altering. I think I’ve given her enough time, enough space.

“I think I know everyone in the room. I met…Cody and Dylan?” I say slowly. They both smile and nod, damn if I remember which is which but that ship has sailed. “And Bernadette at the conference.” I gesture to Kyle. “Before I made rounds in research development, I made a pest of myself at engineering education conferences. Kyle knows me from those circles.” Kyle gives a good-natured chuckle.

That’s right, fucker, act like you didn’t think my questions were stupid a couple of years ago .

I wink at Gail and she narrows her eyes. Okay, no winking.

“Wonderful. I didn’t realize you’ve already met everyone.” She rubs her hands together. “Alright well, last call to get some coffee before we dive in.”

Cody and Dylan load their plates with huge cinnamon rolls. Shit, they really took the extra frosting ask seriously; you can’t even see the dough. Bernadette resolutely continues to ignore me, looking at Kyle or Gail, hell, anyone but me, as she clicks through slides going through my proposal, our MOU, and the evaluation metrics we were given by the Department of Ed.

I manage to answer questions coherently, but I only have eyes for her. She has fifteen freckles on her face and she must bite the inside of her check when she’s nervous. It’s concave now.

“Ashish?” Gail asks, and I snap my head up. I raise an eyebrow and Gail nods her head to Kyle.

“Sorry Kyle, what was that? I must be a little sleepy after my drive.”

He laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “Yeah, no problem, Ashish. I was asking if you wanted to be part of hiring the lecturer that’s going to be the adviser for our student cohort next semester.”

I tilt my head. “A lecturer? I thought we had agreed I would be working with a tenured faculty from one of the labs. To make sure the project had sustainable infrastructure to work on firm projects?”

Kyle presses his lips together and straightens the papers in front of him. “Yes, well, the faculty we included in the proposal, Dr. Ward, had to take an unexpected sabbatical, so we’re not able to use his lab like we had originally planned. This is a very resource-intensive ask. It would be much easier to hire a lecturer. Like our service-learning program. Teaching faculty are easier to build a program around. Our tenure-track faculty are busy and prefer to work with graduate students.”

“That defeats the purpose. The whole point of this work is to find a firm that is aligned with research from an engineering lab. It’s not a simple class where you teach concepts. It’s hands-on intensive. The students will work with the firm right away. A lecturer isn’t going to work. And I’m not the person who will teach or develop the materials. You’ll have access to our pilot curriculum, but core classes are from your engineering program.” I’m starting to feel frustrated. I was worried he was going to pull shit like this.

“Yes, but our labs aren’t interested in committing to this project. It’s a long-term commitment.”

“It’s a multi-million-dollar commitment for each site. How have you currently budgeted the one million that goes directly to the school? A lecturer wouldn’t even cost $100,000 with all your overhead.” I try to keep my voice even. Do they seriously think they can spend ten percent of this grant and pocket the rest?

“Well, budgeting hasn’t been finalized…” Kyle looks over to Gail, but her face makes it clear she’s not here to save him.

“This is not in line with what we agreed on. This site was only selected because of Ward’s lab.” And because Bernie worked here, I keep that bit to myself. I fight the urge to cross my arms and give him a steady stare. “What other labs have you talked to?”

Kyle’s face turns a mottled shade of red. Did he think I would just be fine with this? “Well…I’ve only approached our larger labs–”

“Dean Myers,” Bernadette interrupts, “might I suggest one of the smaller biomedical labs? Or an interdisciplinary lab. There’s a good presence of those types of engineering firms in Chicago and Indianapolis. I am sure Dr. Bhat and Dr. Chen would be interested in a conversation. Our office has been working with both to find new funding.” A patient smile crosses Bernie’s face as she talks to Myers. He looks pissed that he got caught not doing his damn job.

He starts to open his mouth but Bernie interrupts him again. “I’d also like to point out that our grant requires that sixty percent of the funds go to the lab. There are a lot of restrictions on administrative costs and hiring, and it’s unlikely we could justify a lecturer position.” Her smile turns sweet, but I can see the sharp glint in her eyes.

I think I love this woman. I don’t know why I listened to Ravi’s worries that she would try to tank this. She’s good at her job. Honest, ethical, and smart. I shift in my seat. Who knew watching Bernie manage up Myers and talk budget allocations would be a turn-on?

“Hmm…well I suppose I could make an introduction. Could you handle working with Bhat and Chen to see who might be interested?” Kyle says, sitting back in his chair. I raise my eyebrows and look at Gail. Did he just say he could make an introduction and then ask her to do it? I’m pissed on her behalf.

“Of course. I met with Mike yesterday and asked if he was interested in the grant. He seemed really excited to work directly with a firm. He has a friend in the MIT lab that Dr. Mishra worked with last year. I think his lab would be a great fit.”

I almost laugh, tricky woman. Kyle doesn’t even realize he’s been played. He looks mollified and smooths down his tie while nodding. “Good.” Kyle puffs his chest a bit. “Well, I will set it up, and then you can update me.”

I barely catch Gail's lips twitching before she smooths out her face. There’s definitely some history there. “Of course, Dean Myers. Dr. Murphy will send updates to the team to make sure we’re all on the same page. We only have a year with Dr. Mishra, which doesn’t leave a lot of room for error.” She taps her pen on the table and then smiles widely. “I think that’s enough for today. We’ll be in touch. Bernie, do you want to follow up with Ashish to work through the project timeline and update us on next steps?”

Bernie snaps her laptop closed and nods. “Sure, happy to.”

She abruptly stands like she’s going to bolt, but her colleagues get there first. Her shoulders droop when she realizes she’s stuck with me until they file out. She glances at the cinnamon rolls, then turns her back on them. Unfortunately for Bernie, I am not a person that easily gives up. I let the silence stretch between us, and I walk around the table, loading a huge pastry onto a paper plate before facing her.

“Would you like to finish this meeting in your office?” I ask.

She looks like she’d rather spit in my face and I don’t know what it says about me that it makes me smile. She pinches her lips together so tightly they disappear and I count each of her adorable freckles as I wait for her to talk to me.

Bernadette Murphy is not who I pictured when I imagined the one . She’s tall and athletic. I’d always dated short brunettes. Now I want nothing but curvy hips, small breasts, and freckled, pale skin. I wanted to be wrapped in her mess of crazy curly blonde hair. I want Bernie, whose smiles are a rare commodity.

“We could just have a Zoom meeting later today?” She’s trying to run from me and I find I like the chase.

“But I’m right here, sunshine. Let’s meet now.”

Her eyes are getting squinty and angry, and I smile. I want her mouth. I want her to suck cream cheese frosting from my fingers and let me eat her out on her desk.

“Fine.” She turns sharply and stalks to the door, down a long hallway to a small corner office. She has bookshelves lined with binders and books. Stacks of highlighted papers are neatly organized on her desk. Two beautiful Alma Thomas prints flank a giant whiteboard. She’s covered the whiteboard in sticky notes with some kind of color coordination. Her road bike leans in a corner, helmet and backpack resting against it. Does she ride home from work in the dark? I wonder how far she lives from campus.

I set the cinnamon roll on her desk and close her door before taking a seat. I fail to keep my smile to myself as she tracks my movements through her space. She can’t ignore me now and I find I like it. A lot.

“You can leave the door open,” she says through clenched teeth. She sits so primly in her seat it makes me want to push her further.

“Oh?” I slide my finger through the thick frosting and suck it slowly into my mouth. Her eyes widen and I watch her nipples bead under her blouse. I wonder if she’s wearing a bra. Her bra from that night had been nothing more than a scrap of lace. I imagine teasing her shirt buttons open and seeing what she has underneath. I loved that her whole tit fit in my mouth.

“Are you done?” She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest, covering the evidence that I affect her.

“Done with what?” I ask innocently and lick more frosting off my thumb. Before Bernadette, I’ve never really tried to seduce someone. When I met her, I couldn't stop touching her. It wasn’t an intentional effort, but I remember how her body leaned into me, getting closer. Maybe that’s what I should do to stop her from freezing me out.

“Whatever the fuck,” she waves her hand in my direction, “this is.” I cut a bite of the sweet roll and shove it in my mouth, chewing with gusto then licking the fork, staring her down. I feel ridiculous, but her eyes are tracking my movements and she hugs her arms to herself a little tighter.

I carefully set my fork down on the paper plate, mindful not to get crumbs on her desk. Her office is beyond tidy. “Let’s talk about the project.”

In response, she angrily docks her computer and swivels her seat toward the dual monitors on the opposite side of the L that makes up her desk. She logs in, typing harder than necessary. “Fine,” she says through gritted teeth. I love it, I love that she’s talking to me. I don’t care that she’s angry, at least she’s here, not ignoring me.

“What are the next steps?”

Bernie describes the two labs she recommended and how she thinks we should approach them.

Ah, the delicate politics of academia, what a waste of damn time.

“Thank you. For standing up for me, for the project,” I interrupt her.

“I’m just doing my job.” She won’t even look at me. She keeps looking at her screen, arranging our work in some pretty Gantt chart. Ravi is going to love her. He’s like her, likes to organize the chaos.

“You didn’t have to be helpful. You could have sat back and made me fight for the grant's intent.”

“That’s a waste of my time and your time. I’m not here to push paper. I work at a university because I want to make a difference. I believe in the research we do, and I believe in the power of community and university partnerships.”

I smile gratefully. I know she does. I remember how she schooled the moderator over Zoom the first time I saw her. Insisting that if colleges and universities were going to blur the boundaries between school and community, they had a responsibility to do better. She had been fearless.

“I love your ideas. I looked through the lab websites before our meeting and agree they’re a good fit. I don’t know much about biomedical engineering and might struggle the most with making connections with those firms if I don’t connect with the lab faculty. If we go in that direction, they’ll need to have good leadership and communication skills. I’m a civil engineer.”

Bernie nods in agreement and starts typing on her computer again, ignoring me. “I’ll email Dr. Chen first and see if he’s interested in a meeting. I think he'll jump at this chance.”

“Did Myers talk to any of the lab leads at all?”

Bernie looks over at me, considering. Her head tilts slightly to the side and her braid slides over her shoulder. “I’m sure he talked about the project…”

“You mean he didn’t do shit.”

“I don’t work in engineering so I can’t confirm--”

I wave a hand at her. I can respect that she doesn’t want to drag Myers through the mud, but I hate this political bullshit. It’s one of the reasons I always planned to work in industry while I studied for my PhD. “Good. Cc me on the Chen email, please? Maybe we can get it sorted out this week so I can start reaching out to firms next week.” I pull out my laptop to make a few notes.

Bernie clears her throat and I glance up to see her watching me type. “I can do that. You probably want to get over to your office in engineering. Get set up?”

I smile and finish typing, making her wait as I answer a few of Ravi’s emails. “Have dinner with me.” I hit send and close my laptop, putting it back into my bag.

“No,”

I frown at her terse tone. Frustrating, stubborn woman . I scoop a bite of frosting onto my fork and lean over, holding the fork out. She let me feed her noodles before. “Do you want a bite? I got them for you.”

She looks like she’s going to murder me. “You are beyond irritating and inappropriate.” She slaps my hand down. I’m not going to force-feed her. It seemed like a good idea, but clearly, it was a misstep. I hold her gaze and eat it myself.

“I’m sorry–” I start to say, but she interrupts me.

“You should go. I can email you when I hear from Dr. Chen.”

She stands up abruptly and smooths down her black slacks. Grumpy perfection . I like ruffling her feathers. I jump to my feet and place a hand on the door to stop her from opening it. I know I’m walking a fine line between domineering asshole and desperate. But I am desperate. I just need her to listen. I crowd her body, not touching but close. I wonder if she’s remembering how good it felt for me to be over her, inside her.

“Have dinner with me, Bernie,” I whisper, leaning in close to her ear.

Bernie’s breath catches and I want to get closer, lick her sharp lemon scent off her skin.

“I already told you no. What the fuck is your problem?” she hisses at me.

“Give me a chance to explain.”

“Why? You’re a liar. I can’t believe anything you say anyway.”

I squeeze my eyes closed in frustration. “I’m sorry. Let me show you I’m sincere. Just let me explain.” I’ve leaned in until my nose almost touches hers. Her eyes are a deep blue, like the ocean when you’re miles out to sea and can’t see the bottom.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispers. I search her body language and find that she’s relaxed against the door, not scared, just pissed. I take the risk and let my nose graze over hers.

“You’re so beautiful that I made a stupid decision that night. I wanted you to give me a chance. And I was worried that if you knew I worked at MIT, you wouldn’t talk to me. I’m barely faculty. I’m a glorified consultant. This is temporary for me. I’m an engineer, not a prof. When you said you avoid academics, I panicked. I’d planned to pick you up and tell you over dinner but I got lost in the moment. Lost in you.” I’m so close, I know she can feel my breath on her skin. I watch her lips part slightly. “Please give me a chance. Let me show you that there’s something here. Let me get to know you.” I can’t help myself and trace her cheekbone, sliding my nose up to her ear and behind it.

I’ve never been with a tall woman before. We’re only a few inches apart.

Her breath catches. “So you’re saying it’s my fault that you're a liar?”

“No sunshine, it’s definitely my fault I lied to you. But there’s gray here; I’m asking you to see it. To believe that I just wanted a chance. I wasn’t trying to mislead you so I could sleep with you. I wanted more. I want more. Everything else I said was true.”

I feel her exhale against my neck, and I fight the urge to press my body into hers. Months , I’ve waited months to be this close. I place a ghost of a kiss on the tender skin behind her ear. It’s time to retreat; I don’t want to push her too far. Hell, I’ve already gone way beyond what I should have.

“Think about it. I’m available for dinner any night. Just call or text me.” I can’t seem to help myself and give her nose one more nuzzle before stepping back and picking up my bag. It gives me some comfort that her body leaned into me, following the touch.

Bernie’s still pressed against the door, flushed, and contemplative. I’d like to think she’s equal parts turned on and angry, but I’m not sure. I try to give a comforting smile. Plead with her believe me, give this a chance. I’ve done what I can today. I can’t push too hard.

She opens the door and stands to the side. With one last look, I walk out.