Chapter Twenty-Four
Bernie
I grip the steering wheel and slowly navigate the city traffic.
“Have you heard from Ashish?” Mike Chen asks me from my passenger seat. He is not the person I want sitting next to me while I drive to Indianapolis. Nothing against Mike; he’s fine and I’m glad he’s the faculty that was eventually onboarded to the project. But he’s not Ash. I try not to pout thinking about the early morning text I got from him on Sunday.
Ash: Bernie, will call tonight but I need to change my flight. Our client wants to meet on Monday morning. I’m going to need to fly directly into Indianapolis on Tuesday and meet you and Mike at the firm for our meetings.
We’d planned on driving together to the city so we could talk through any remaining questions about the proposal. I made sure Mike felt prepared the best I could. He’s created a lot of potential ways students from his lab could work with some of the firms we’ve identified.
We’ll be staying in the suburbs because we targeted mid-sized firms with good community presence. I’m a little worried that the one-hour drive to Indianapolis might make this opportunity out of reach. Ash’s partnership had a much closer proximity. Plus, the demographic profile of our school versus MIT was frankly different, and access meant different things to our students.
“He told me this morning that his flight was on time.” He’d called me, his voice extra sleepy. Hell, I was tired this morning. We’d been on the phone until one in the morning, neither of us wanting to say goodnight.
“Good. Thanks again for reaching out to me about this, Bernadette. I think it’s really going to elevate my lab. I hardly work with undergrads, and this funding makes it possible for us to expand enough to take more on.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Mike shift in his seat as he watches the traffic. He’s a good egg, well-liked, a hard worker. I’m not sure why engineering hadn’t looked at the smaller labs to include in this opportunity versus the big splashy ones. They probably were trying to figure out what would make a better news story. It’s all about that marketing.
“My pleasure, Mike. You’re a great researcher and a good teacher, I think this is going to be a good fit.” I tap my fingers on my steering wheel. “Now, do you want to go over the slides one more time and think through what you might ask for in the MOU with the firm? With this distance, I really think we should leverage video conferencing more to make sure it’s accessible to students without cars.”
“But it’s not really, because students will need to travel to the site.”
“I know, it’s a problem. I’ve been trying to figure it out. I think we need to look back at the grant and see if we can use funds for transportation. The intent is for students who normally get weeded out in their first year of engineering to be engaged. I’d hate for the project itself to be an exclusion.”
“Hmm, good idea. We’ll talk to Ashish about it. Are we going to have time to go to the hotel?”
I glance at the clock and the navigation on my phone. “No, I think it’s cutting it too close. I’d rather go straight there and check in tonight. We can call and arrange for late check-in.” Mike’s already pulling out his phone—gotta love a man who takes initiative.
We have a four-hour meeting and dinner scheduled with a firm today and then a morning meeting and lunch scheduled with a second firm tomorrow. If we’d had the time, I would have gone to the airport to pick up Ash, but his arrival time was cutting it too close.
I tap my brakes, avoiding someone crowding into my lane.
It’s been a trip this week to realize how much I miss him. Now that I’ve given myself permission to want him, I miss him. I want him with me. I’m conflicted by how nervous I feel about people knowing we’re together. Part of me wants to share it, the other wants to hide it. I debated asking Ash if we could keep it under wraps for a bit, but just the suggestion made me feel like an asshole. Not to mention, I’m almost certain Ash would have been hurt by the suggestion.
Assuming everything feels right, I guess my next step is to tell Gail. And then just figure it out? I tap my fingers on the steering wheel and nervously eye the line of cars in front of us.
I listen to Mike talking on the phone, and my mind drifts to Stephen. It would have been impossible to be open with our relationship. My reputation would have been ruined.
No , I chide myself, we were doomed from the start because, deep down, Stephen thought I was less. By putting himself first, and sacrificing my progress in the process, he showed that he didn’t really love me. Because work was everything . Five years of a doctoral program and two years of a postdoc flushed down the drain for the potential to make a little more money? Stephen didn’t just make a decision that would change the trajectory of my career, he undervalued something that was the core of how I valued myself.
And wasn’t that a mindfuck?
I got love and confidence through achievement. That’s what my mom valued—how could I be the best, work the hardest, get the best grades, and surpass expectations? That’s why Stephen was attracted to me, right? Because I was bright? Had potential?
I run my finger along the stitching in the leather and listen to Mike chatting.
Ash was attracted to me at first because of my brain. But it feels different. It doesn’t feel like he’s with me for the potential. It’s like he already thinks I’m there and he just enjoys being in my orbit. I’m not the golden goose, there to make him money or get him publications. It feels like he thinks I’m the smartest person in the room and is proud of me.
Ashish Mishra might be magic.
***
Mike and I are talking in hushed tones when we walk into the lobby. I discreetly check my phone, but there’s nothing from Ash.
I walk to the reception with a smile. “Hi, we’re the West Lafayette team. We’re here to meet with the Petersons.”
The woman smiles and stands. “Yes, I just showed your other colleague to the conference room. Right this way.” She guides us down a hall to a large conference room, dominated by a long wood table with marble inlay. Fancy , I think, scanning the room for Ash. His stuff is there, but he’s not.
“Oh, looks like he might have gone to the restroom. Would you like anything to drink? We have some refreshments coming in later this afternoon.”
I shake my head and walk slowly around the table to take the seat next to Ash’s things. He’s set us up near the monitor at the end of the room.
“Great set-up,” Mike says cheerfully, oblivious to my nerves.
“I’m going to go find the restroom as well,” I blurt. There are probably fifteen minutes to spare before our meeting starts, and I don’t want the first time I lay eyes on Ash to have an audience.
How times have changed.
I walk down the carpeted hallway slowly, looking for signs of a bathroom. These places always hide them. I pass a door as it opens, and Ash fills the frame. His face lights up, his eyes almost disappearing with how big his smile is. His hand snags mine and pulls me through the door, shutting it before pressing me against the wood.
“Well, hello there,” he says, nuzzling my neck, and I melt into the wood. My anxiety seeps away, replaced by the low hum of arousal and giddy excitement.
“Why are you always pushing me against doors?” I murmur, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Because you like it.”
I shiver when he strokes his hands down my sides and holds my hips possessively.
“I missed you, sunshine.”
“I’m glad your flight arrived a little early.”
“Oh yeah?” Ash kisses behind my ear. “Did you miss me?’
“Yes, I missed you.”
“Good, because I definitely canceled my hotel reservation. Mind sharing with me?”
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
Ash kisses my neck and then nips it with his teeth before pushing up off the wood of the door and putting a little space between us.
“When I start kissing you, Bernie, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. So for the sake of both our professional reputations, I’m just going to have to wait until later tonight.” His eyebrows sink lower, his gaze so fucking hot I want to strip in front of him.
I reach up and trace a finger over his eyebrow. “Well, okay then. Get out, I need to use the bathroom.”
He ignores me and scoops me up in the kind of body-swaying hug that I never knew I needed in my life. I’ve worried it would be awkward, that the magic I felt over the phone wouldn’t hold up in person. I was so wrong.
I relax into his arms, sinking my weight against his chest, and rub my cheek against his shoulder. It’s not awkward, it’s perfect. I should have known the first night at the bar that the pull I felt toward this man was real. I turn my face and brush my lips along the edge of his beard.
“Who are you and what have you done to the grumpy woman I’m trying to woo?” he whispers tentatively.
“I’m not grumpy.” I kiss his Adam’s apple.
“Mmm, something is different.”
I move to step back but he squeezes his arms around me.
“Not bad different. I love it.”
“You should go and make sure the slide deck is set up.” I flatten my hands on his chest and push away. He reluctantly lets me go, searching my face before cupping it and ghosting his lips over mine.
“Already done, sunshine. I’ll see you out there.” He kisses my cheek and leaves me reeling under the fluorescents. I quickly relieve my bladder and wash my hands. I know what I’ll find before I look in the mirror.
Flushed, my eyes looking bright with excitement, and happy—I look happy. It’s been a while since I’ve seen this version of myself in the mirror. I pull a tube of lipstick from my blazer and carefully apply the pinky-beige color. I look professional, black blazer and slacks, low heels. My blouse is high-necked and black with tiny gold squares, a nod to our school colors.
On the surface, I look buttoned up and put together, but on the inside, I’m brimming. This is the work I wanted to do. Sure, I thought I would be the faculty and I didn’t think it would be engineering, but this project is so close to what I proposed was possible in my dissertation and postdoc work it feels surreal. Industry and higher education, working together to increase access to the kind of jobs that can change not just one life, but a generation. Partnerships like this could help dismantle the distance between the community and the academy, creating a collaboration that changes the future.
I might not be pitching this partnership, but I’m going to support the hell out of it. I’m going to figure out a way to make this work. If not with this firm, then another.
I nod to myself and open the bathroom door. It’s hard to imagine that five months ago, a man with the most irresistible smile asked me to think about possibilities.
I finally feel like I’m in a place to actualize them.