Chapter Thirty
Alexandre released Mei and retrieved his phone to look at more job listings. She was right. He was in a good place now. In the last few weeks, he’d been truly happy. But at this moment, he felt like a colossal loser.
Mei was going to be VP of marketing at a hot company. Alexandre clicked on a job posting with that title. His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. The low end of the salary range was more than twice his. The high end was triple.
Beside him, Mei was scrolling through her phone, smiling to herself. Alexandre eyed her nervously. How much longer until she realizes I’m a washed-up has-been and drops me for someone else?
Mei looked up. A flicker of worry crossed her face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just a bit tired.” Alexandre felt Mei studying him. He scratched at a faded stain on her couch.
“No, something’s bothering you. What is it?”
He shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “You’re applying for all these big positions. Your career is taking off. Mine has gone in the other direction.”
“That’s ridiculous! You have a super-impressive job, even if it’s not your old one.”
Alexandre frowned. He’d heard all this before.
“You can’t compare us. I’m staying in my career. You changed yours. That would be mixing the wrong data, like comparing apples to oranges. There’s probably some scientific term for that, but I don’t know what it is.”
Alexandre’s mouth twitched. He was mired in his funk, but somehow Mei was making him laugh.
“What?” she asked.
“When you construct a flawed data set, it’s called ‘garbage in, garbage out.’ And you’re right.
That’s exactly what I was doing.” He shook his head.
“My career isn’t going up or down. I’m on an entirely different track from where I used to be.
And from you. There’s no point comparing.
It’s illogical. Somehow, I never saw that before. ”
“This is why we have each other.”
Alexandre kissed her firmly, gratefully, then retrieved his coffee. “Last week, when I was meeting with Dr. Johnson, I decided it was time to start owning my job and stop treating it like a temporary gig. I need to remember that.”
Mei sipped her own coffee. “You can also go to the zebrafish conference as a SUNY New Paltz professor, instead of a former UO professor.”
The zebrafish conference. In two weeks, he was flying to Cleveland for it.
Alexandre stifled a sigh. “I still have to present my research on behalf of UO because I conducted it there. Plus, everyone knows me from UO—my former colleagues, my old mentor.”
“Who’s your old mentor? Someone from Oregon?”
“No, his name is Chris Saunders, and he’s with the University of Chicago. He’s a big fish in the genetics field.”
“Ha! Were you two always swimming in the same circles?”
Alexandre gave Mei a playful poke. “Basically. Chris was a visiting professor my third year of grad school. We stayed in touch as I finished my PhD. He was a helpful sounding board whenever I ran into problems with my research. He even coauthored a paper with me. I fell out of touch with him during the last few years. He doesn’t even know that I left research.
” Shame flooded Alexandre. He had essentially ghosted Chris, ignoring his former mentor’s emails until they eventually stopped.
“Are you sure you’ll see him?”
“Yeah. He’s always at these conferences. I’m bound to run into him.”
“So tell him the truth about your career change. That’s exactly what I was saying, and what you were just saying: Go to the conference owning your new job.
Present the research from UO, but the rest of the time, address yourself as Professor Alexandre Brodeur from SUNY New Paltz.
You can talk up your current job and make connections for New Paltz. ”
The thought hadn’t crossed Alexandre’s mind. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Wow, don’t heap on the praise.”
“No, you’re right. As usual.” He gently tackled Mei onto the couch. “How do you always know exactly what I need?”
“Because I get you.”
Their lips met. Alexandre parted her legs with his knee. She pulled him up from the couch, onto her bed, and unzipped his pants.
Afterward, they lay together. Alexandre’s eyes roamed her tiny apartment. The potted green succulents and framed photos of her and Ali made the tired space feel bright and cozy.
Mei spending the weekend at his place had finally motivated him to update his apartment, too.
Last week, Alexandre had ordered and assembled a small wooden dining set.
One afternoon, after his classes, he’d walked into town and found several framed Hudson Valley nature prints at a secondhand store.
He’d hung them in the living room and bedroom, then stood back admiring the images, a quiet pride throbbing through him as he observed the symbolism of the act.
Now Mei smiled up at him, her eyes warm. “How are you feeling?”
“More ready than ever to close the door on my old life,” he answered truthfully. “Here’s to our pact.”
“And the start of our new lives.”
Together, Alexandre thought as they kissed.