15
I am so excited as I say goodbye to Johanna. She tucks some more clothes into my suitcase. “I am so jealous of you,” she says with a smile and hugs me tight. “You'll do there everything that I can only dream of.” She giggles and let's go of me. Her enthusiasm is contagious and I’m restless all the way to the airport.
I check my luggage at the counter, go through all the checks and finally sit down on a padded seat and wait to board the plane. Within minutes I see a tall man, dressed in a white button-down shirt and black pants, approaching me with that self-conscious smile on his lips. His delicate masculinity is hypnotizing.
“Professor Sawyer,” I say formally and stand up.
“Elena,” his smile spreads as he sits down next to me. I’m sitting down, but my body is tense and nervous. “I’m happy to see you.” He fidgets with his plane ticket and seems just as nervous as I am. “I think that this will be a very significant conference for you.”
“I’m sure of it.” I glance at him cautiously, and allow myself to examine his delicate face for a moment. His soft black eyes, black hair combed carefully to the side and the goatee surrounding his lips. Boarding is announced over the loudspeaker and we both stand up.
My seat is in the front of the plane and the professor’s is in the back. The seats beside me are empty and just before takeoff he appears next to me. “I thought we should take advantage of the short flight to get to know each other,” he says shyly, and I can’t understand how this perfect man could be embarrassed by someone like me. I move over to the empty seat and he sits down next to me.
“Professor Sawyer, thank you for choosing me,” I say as I fasten my seat belt.
“Let’s start with you calling me Brian.” He fastens his seat belt as well and the plane’s wheels leave the ground. “I had a call from one of the research labs this week asking for a letter of recommendation for you,” he says, as he tries to arrange his long legs comfortably in the narrow gap between the seats. “The truth is for a minute I actually thought of refusing so that I could keep you to myself,” he sounds amused. “But I sent the recommendation after all.”
“Thank you,” I say embarrassed. “I didn’t know that they contacted you. I should have told you that I put you down as a reference.”
“I’m honored.” He signals the stewardess over and asks me what I’d like to drink.
“Just a bottle of water, thanks.” I still can’t control the excitement that has gripped me since I met him here.
“I’m glad we have the chance to spend some time together,” He passes me the bottle the stewardess gave him and opens it for me. “We can think about your professional career together.” He unbuckles his seat belt and settles in his seat. “Of course, please feel free to ask me anything you'd like.” He takes a book out of his hand luggage and opens it up to a marked page.
I have so many questions…. And suddenly three days seem like such a little time. He is already deep in his book and I take a deep breath and allow some rare relaxation to envelop me.
We ride together in a cab to the hotel where the conference is taking place and on the way he explains what the schedule will be. Starting at eight a.m. we can attend various panels and at noon he will be giving a main lecture as well.
“You don’t have to go to all the lectures and panels,” he says casually as the cab driver takes our luggage out of the trunk.
“I don’t intend to miss even one,” I respond excitedly, and he nods in satisfaction.
We receive the conference program in the hotel's lobby and I see that the first panel is starting in an hour.
He drags our luggage to the elevator, and we get off on the same floor. To my surprise, our rooms are right opposite each other, and I find it hard to decide whether I am excited or terrified that he’ll be so close to me all the time.
“Go and get yourself organized and we’ll meet in the lobby.” He pushes my suitcase into my room and leaves quickly.
“Professor Sawyer,” I follow him out.
“Brian,” he corrects me.
“Brian,” it’s hard for me to call him by his first name. “What’s the dress code?” I ask awkwardly.
“You look fine,” he smiles and I go back into my room and look at myself in the mirror. My buttoned down dress is a bit tight but modest. My braid is pulled back tightly and I look like a serious physics student. If he only knew where I work at night….
I use the time to go over the program and the booklet that comes with it, and feel my excitement escalate. My professor will be lecturing tomorrow and I’m certain that he will impress and interest everyone. I wait impatiently for an endless hour to pass and when it does, I run to the elevators and go down to the ground floor.
A lot of people are standing around in groups. I recognize the professors and researchers who publish articles in the most important magazines in the world and I feel so small, meaningless and unimportant.
“Elena,” I hear the professor’s voice and glance to my left. He signals me over and I see that he is standing with two older men, accompanied by two younger men who look as excited as I feel.
“Professor Glenn,” he says to one of them, “Professor Karim,” he says to the other, “this is Elena, my research assistant.”
“I know who you are,” I shake their hands with respect. “Professor Glenn, I read your latest research on black holes,” I am still shaking his hand enthusiastically, “and Professor Karim, I read your book on energy conversion. I’m so honored to meet you both.”
“I had no idea pretty girls could enjoy my book,” Professor Karim replies and looks at me for a fraction of a second too long. I am shocked by his rude remark and behavior, but I don’t say anything else.
“And what did you think of my research?” Professor Glenn asks me curiously.
“How long do you have?” I ask seriously and he bursts out laughing. “Very nice, Sawyer,” he says to my professor. “It looks like you’ve found a serious and pretty young woman here.” Again this remark also makes me uncomfortable but I choose to ignore it as well. It turns out that chauvinist males can be found everywhere.
“Shall we?” Professor Sawyer opens the door for us and I sit by him in the lecture hall. On the stage in front of us are five chairs, occupied by more people that I recognize.
“Take notes on anything that sounds important,” the professor whispers in my ear. I take out my laptop and as soon as the first speaker starts talking, I begin typing quickly. “You don’t have to type everything,” he says in an amused tone as the next speaker starts.
“It all sounds so important to me,” I say awkwardly and tighten my braid to my head.
“Learn to filter information, otherwise your brain will overload,” he explains and I nod. From now on I try to listen more and type less.
We carry on this way for two more panels and when they’re over, we go to the dining room. The huge hall is totally packed. After filling a plate from the generous buffet, he touches my elbow gently and indicates that I should follow him. We sit down at one of the tables and he immediately gets involved in a conversation with the people sitting next to him.
“Are you his teaching assistant?” asks the girl with the glasses who is sitting next to me, while looking the professor over with great interest.
“Research assistant,” I answer and start eating.
“Are you graduating this year?” she’s still looking at him.
“No, I’m only a sophomore.”
“And you’re a research assistant already?” she asks surprised.
“Yes,” I shrug, trying to listen to the discussion around the table.
“Interesting,” she says and looks me over. “That wouldn’t happen at our university.”
I suppose she wants me to ask her which university that is, but I have no intention of talking to her when such an interesting debate is being held around me.
“They’re all talking about him,” she whispers in my ear, and I think to myself how annoying she is. “He’s so young and already a professor. He’s a mystery,” she falls silent for a moment and then continues to whisper, “He’s the most eligible bachelor in our field, you know,” she says giggling. “Some of the female lecturers from my university came here especially to meet him.”
“I don’t find any of that gossip interesting.” I can’t be polite anymore. “Excuse me, I just want to eat in peace.” She sits up straight and looks at me with an insulted expression on her face. I don’t try to make peace with her. I’m bothered by the mass of single ladies who have apparently got their eyes on my professor. So unprofessional of me, but it’s poisoning my thoughts.
We go to the main lecture and now I notice how the women race for seats on his other side as well as in front and behind of him. Women of various ages, with impressive degrees and who look so professional and attractive, all flirting with him and giggling like pimpled teenaged girls. He answers each one politely, but takes advantage of every quiet moment to ensure that I understand the lecture, adding some anecdotes of his own. There is not a woman in the room who isn’t sizing me up, and some even try to draw me into a conversation. This is a weird situation for me. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep our special closeness for much longer. During one of the breaks I go to the restroom and text Johanna:
Me: All the women here are all over him.
Johanna: Professor Sawyer?
Me: Yes.
Johanna: So he abandoned you?
Me: No. He’s with me all the time.
Johanna: You should try to seduce him.
Me: Are you crazy? He’s our professor.
Johanna: But he is a man first, and he gives you all his attention (I am so jealous).
Me: It’s unprofessional. And anyway, I don’t know how to do something like that.
Johanna: Don’t miss this opportunity. Besides you're French. You are known to be seductresses.
Me: Maybe my mother…not me.
Johanna: Ask him out for dinner and wear the pink dress.
Me: OK, that’s enough. I feel like a little girl.
Johanna: Then start acting like a woman.
Me: Got to go. Bye.
Johanna: I’m jealous!
When I come out of the restroom I meet him again at the entrance to one of the panels.
“Is everything all right?” he asks and I blush.
“Everything’s great.” I enter the room before he notices the dramatic change in the color of my face.
He sits down next to me and I’m sickened by the horror show that is unfolding before my eyes. These smart, impressive women are actually tripping over each other in order to get a seat next to his. An attractive woman who looks in her forties wins, and sits down next to him, blushing. She introduces herself and starts talking relentlessly, and I squirm in my seat with embarrassment at her behavior. I’m starting to worry that one of these women will attract his attention. For a moment I allow myself to think of a small chance that he will notice me as a woman, and not just a student blinded by admiration for her teacher. But I'm aware that this is nothing but a sweet illusion.
“How about we go to a café this evening?” She plays with her bangs. “I’d love to consult with you on a few questions I have, and apparently it’s really hard to set up meetings with you this semester.”
“I’d love to,” he answers, and I feel as if I’ve just been punched in the stomach. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to during the conference,” he continues casually. She looks so disappointed, which makes me do imaginary backflips in the air. “I’ll be spending my evenings making sure my research assistant has understood all the topics discussed here,” he explains, and the backflips turn into a dancing. He pulls out a business card and hands it to her. “Talk to my teaching assistant, she’ll set up a meeting on campus during the semester break.” The woman takes the card and nods, she doesn’t say a word to him after that.
We leave the last panel and I rub my eyes.
“It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” he smiles as we walk to the elevator. "Do you want to eat in the dining room, or would you like to freshen up and go out to eat at one of the cafés in the city in about an hour?”
His question catches me off-guard. I stare at him awkwardly, trying to figure out if I’m imagining things or if he really just asked that question.
“Elena,” he wrinkles his forehead in concern, “are you all right?”
“Yes, yes,” I pull myself together. “I’d be happy to get out of the hotel for a while.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he laughs.
“Should I bring my laptop?”
“No!” he cries. “We need to clear our heads after all that information that was thrown at us today.”
“I thought you wanted to make sure that I understood everything…”
“I’m sure you did,” he cuts me off and winks.
This is absolutely perfect.
We decide to meet in an hour by the desk in the lobby and I enter my room and go straight to the shower, washing off all the day’s tension. I come back out into my room and find myself looking at my body in the mirror yearning to feel more like a woman and less like a little girl. I have no illusions; his invitation is only an innocent and kind one. But I do have a chance to spend some time alone with him now. Completely alone. And this is a great opportunity to find out whether he is really the ideal man that I’ve constructed in my head.
I brush my long hair and braid it, put on the tight pink maxi dress that Johanna shoved in my luggage and slip on some ballerina flats. My voluptuous, womanly body doesn’t match the girlish look of my long braid. I wind it into a large bun above my neck and fasten it with bobby pins. Now my neck looks long and feminine, my cheekbones stand out. It’s amazing how such a small change can create such a different look. I outline my eyes with black eyeliner and put on some transparent lip-gloss. Not bad. I smile at myself and leave the room to the lobby.
“I’m ready,” I say smiling to the handsome man in a black button-down shirt and light jeans.
He looks at me so surprised, as if he is seeing me for the first time.
“Am I overdressed?” I ask and blush.
He shakes his head no. “You look wonderful.”
His compliment makes my head spin. I feel as if I’m floating in a sweet dream. We take a cab downtown and every once in a while, I feel him studying me.
The cab driver stops in front of a small café, and the professor places his hand gently on my back and steers me towards a small table on the patio. His touch is so delicate and pleasant, and I nervously wait for the shivers I feel every time Scarface comes near me. It’s coming, I tell myself confidently and sit down in the chair he’s pulled out for me.
“Elena, I think this would be a good time for you to start telling me about yourself,” he leans back in his seat and looks at me curiously.
“There’s nothing interesting to tell,” I say while I look at the menu.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
The waitress approaches and he points at the wine that he’s selected from the menu.
“OK,” I give up, “I was born and raised in Houston, Texas. When I was about fifteen, I discovered the world of physics. Since then that’s been my whole life and as you may have noticed, I‘m very objective-oriented.”
He pours the wine that the waitress had brought into our glasses. “And what exactly is your objective?” he asks.
“To be a professor,” I say confidently, and he smiles and sips his wine. “But not just to get to be one.” I feel the excitement swirling up inside me. “I want to get there by carrying out groundbreaking research, I want to pass on my love and passion for this field to thousands of other people. I want to spend most of my time studying and doing research and…” I fall into an embarrassed silence when I see the awed expression on his face, “It probably sounds so childish to you.” I drink some wine and avoid his gaze.
“It sounds so real.” My hand is resting on the table and he strokes it for a minute then pulls his own hand away quickly, as if he’s done something wrong.
“No one in my life understands it,” I say sadly, and I am silent as the waitress returns to take our orders. When she walks away, I see that he’s looking at me tensely. “I don’t need to burden you with my private issues,” I wave my hand casually and sip some more wine.
“Actually, I’d like to hear all about it,” he says and places his glass down on the table. “I got divorced for exactly the same reason,” sharing such an intimate detail of his life so easily and I nod awkwardly. “My ex-wife couldn’t accept the fact that I have another great love,” he says, “that I have a pressing need to study and teach.” He moves our glasses aside so that the waitress can put our plates down.
He looks deep in thought. “Well, I’m not divorced yet,” I interrupt the silence, trying to sound amused in order to lighten the atmosphere. “But I’m sure that if my parents could divorce me for that, they would.”
“Why?” he asks confused.
“Because it’s physics. They can’t understand why I’ve developed an obsession with all sorts of things that they don’t understand at all. If it was business administration, med or law, they’d be happy about it. But an obsession with atoms, energy, mechanics?” I laugh bitterly and he smiles. “That’s just too weird.”
“You are so special.” He puts a piece of beef into his mouth and chews slowly. “I knew that as soon as I saw your eyes shining during our first class.” He eats another piece of beef and I can’t believe what I'm hearing. My perfect professor noticed me over the other students on our first class. "You remind me of myself,” he gives me another compliment and I can’t swallow the food in my mouth. “You were talking about passion.” He puts his fork down and sips his wine. “I wish that people could understand my passion for my research.”
“I do!” I blurt and blush again. “There’s nothing stronger than intellectual passion.” I ignore my burning face. “People think that passion comes from physical urges, but it’s right here,” I point at my head. “And it’s a thousand times stronger and more intense than any other desire.”
He nods enthusiastically. “That’s right, and I’ll prove it to you.” He puts his fork down again and starts on a long and impressive monologue of the theory of artificial light. When he finishes, my head is on fire and I’m dizzy with the pleasure I feel. The only thing that's bothering me is that I’m waiting to feel the same dizziness on a physical level inside me as well. That’s not happening and I don't understand why. All my adult life I’ve been dreaming about a man just like this one, and the private lecture I just received is one of the most exciting things I’ve ever heard. My mind responded appropriately… so why didn’t my body?
He smiles at the expression on my face and raises his glass to mine. “To intellectual passions,” he clinks our glasses and I smile back.
At the end of our meal he takes out his wallet and doesn’t even give me a chance to pay for anything. We take a cab back to the hotel and each of us is deep in thought. When we enter the hotel, the lobby is packed with people who came for the conference. I can’t avoid the looks of all the women. This time the looks are different – not kind and polite but invasive and rude. It’s as if, during the day, when I looked so young and harmless, I wasn’t a worthy opponent, but now, walking beside him in my tight dress, they are ready to attack the minute they get the chance. But they don’t get one. He’s walking straight towards the elevators, ignoring all the stares and whispers around us and chuckling to himself when the elevator doors close behind us.
“Could I be the only bachelor here?” he asks in an amused tone and the bashful smile is back on his lips. “Now, because you decided to show everyone how beautiful you are, the gossip will start. Try to ignore it.”
“I didn’t decide that,” I stutter, embarrassed.
“I apologize,” he grows serious suddenly. “It didn’t come out right. It’s just that you also surprised me with your appearance.”
The elevator door opens. “That’s OK,” I say, “I don’t usually pay attention to the way I look. I just thought that it would be better not to embarrass you and make the effort.”
He waits for me to open my door and then turns towards his room. “Elena, you are beautiful either way,” he says and closes the door. Excited, I continue to stare at the white door.