Chapter 35
Venus
Dr. Rob McCullum smiles broadly and greets me with a hearty, “Dr. Blake! What a pleasure to see you again!”
I lean toward my laptop, taking in his shaggy dark hair, scruffy face, and piercing blue eyes, but it’s his kiwi accent that stirs my recollection. A smoky, low-lit pub in Oxford. Pints, fish and chips, and conversation that came naturally, for once. “The symposium on invasive species.”
“Yes, and don’t forget that tedious drivel on forest conservation.”
A mild smirk arises, remembering the unfortunate speaker who turned an exciting topic into the driest lecture imaginable. “I struggle with public speaking, but still couldn’t feel sympathetic.”
“He did me a favor by sending us to the pub across the street,” he says, his voice quieter. “That made it the best symposium I’ve ever attended. I’ve thought about you often.”
A twinge of pleasure slips up my spine. We’d escaped the boring lecture at the same time, meeting at the back doors in the rain. We looked at each other, and, pleased with what we saw, he grinned as he said, “Buy you a pint?”
He held his jacket over our heads as we crossed the street and ducked into the busy pub.
And kept his hand on my lower back as he guided me to a corner table.
I enjoyed everything about that night—the stale air of the noisy bar, the glint in his eyes as he leaned closer to hear me, and, especially, spending time with someone who knew nothing of my difficult past. He saw me as a peer, an attractive peer, and I relished in feeling both equal and wanted under his gaze.
I was set to start the polymer project—my plane was scheduled to leave early the next morning.
I discussed polymers while he impressed me with his work on flowering megaherbs.
He was insightful and quite handsome, despite our age difference.
Well past midnight, I remember his finger drifting over the top of my hand with an invitation to his hotel room.
If not for the plane I had to catch in mere hours, I would’ve said yes.
Now, my cheeks flush as he stares. He shifts into discussing the project, and, just like that night at the pub, I’m swept up in our conversation about New Zealand’s conservation goals.
“I don’t want you on the team,” he says. “I want you to help me lead it, Dr. Blake.”
“As your assistant?”
“No, partner. I’d be the cultural, geographical, and political leader. You’d handle the bulk of the scientific research and exploration. I know how New Zealand operates. I need someone who will take her on scientifically. You’re my first choice.”
My breath leaves my lungs in a puff. “Why me? There are others—”
“Yes, but you’ve done your due diligence. You’ve been Miner’s puppet for too long, taking no credit for her discoveries, though, I bet, okra polymers was your idea—”
“Um, well…”
“Imagine what you can do without her, eh?”
My heart swells to a newfound capacity, taking in his praise. No one has ever valued my work so highly.
But then, I think of Henry—his encouragement to be authentically me in the classroom and the success he inspired.
Not only are my students loving my new approach, but I look forward to teaching them.
Even more, I love this new version of Henry and me.
It’s like I’ve been stuck, rereading paragraphs I didn’t understand, until finally, we’ve turned the page, and the story makes sense, for the summer, anyway.
We’ve spent the last two nights talking, and lunch yesterday was fun and engaging—as close as I’ve probably come to normal couple things.
“What do you think so far, Dr. Blake?” Dr. McCullum pulls me from my thoughts.
“Um, you should know that I-I…” I take a breath. “Dr. Miner fired me. I had an annoying habit of diving off the ship. I have ADHD and impulsivity issues related to that.”
He scoffs, leaning back. “You had me worried for a sec. Learning differences are common, especially among the gifted. I’m dyslexic. Two on my team are autistic. None of that gets in the way of the work. Actually, playing to our strengths makes us a better team.”
A huge weight lifts off my shoulders, imagining it—a place where I stand out for the right reasons.
I take a breath, meeting his eyes again. “The cottage would be entirely mine?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have one, but if I wanted one, could I have a dog?”
“We have a local shelter full of them. Take your pick.”
Our meeting continues well beyond the allotted one-hour time.
He discusses the details of his five-year plan, and I’m impressed by the work and research he’s already done.
It will be a massive but thoroughly engaging project, with equal time spent in the lab and the field, as I prefer.
He promises free time to explore New Zealand, which sounds ideal after the confinement and tight quarters of living at sea and the emotional overload of being at home.
A shadow moves under my closed door, prompting me to check the time. “Oh, Dr. McCullum, forgive me for taking so much of your time. I might have a student in need of my assistance, though.”
“I’ve enjoyed our chat, Dr. Blake. Can I schedule another meeting for next week at the same time? Surely, you’ll have more questions by then, and perhaps I’ll squeeze more amenities from the Conservancy for you, make it impossible for you to resist.”
“I’d like that.”
“Speak to you then, but call me anytime. Cheers.”
Closing my laptop, I feel immensely satisfied. I nailed the interview—a challenge for me—and the position is ideal. I can’t wait to tell Henry. But my shoulders slump with the reality of thousands of miles and another five years away from my family. Away from Henry.
With a sigh, I rise from the desk, straighten my skirt, and move to the door to greet the shadow waiting behind it.
Henry leans against the opposite wall, bag hooked over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets, and a dizzyingly perfect smile on his handsome face. “Have time for me, Doctor?”
I match his coy grin. “Another plant emergency?”
“Nah, just wanted to see you. How’d the interview go?”
“I got the job, if I want it.” I expect him to launch into questions to assess my interest and, perhaps, dissuade me from it.
“Of course you got it. You’re brilliant and deserving. Sounds like future Vee has much to consider.” He pushes off the wall and edges closer, slipping his hands around my waist. “Congratulations,” he whispers before he kisses me.
His reaction relieves me, and not just because kissing Henry is always a pleasure. The decision feels mine. Safely in my hands without the need for him to offer feedback. Because it is my choice. And I already know what Henry wants.
In this moment, perhaps every moment, he wants me.
The kiss deepens in a breath as I yank him inside, shutting the door behind him.