EIGHTEEN Quincy #2
“Fascinating. Ms. Monroe, what was your dissertation on while you attended UCF?”
The change of pace throws me off. It takes me a beat to realize Dr. Schneider is talking to me. When I do, I almost fumble my words. “Radar signatures in tropical cyclone tornadoes and nontornadic supercells.”
“And Sebastian, do you fly private when you’re sent across the country to cover weather events? Or commercial?”
“I’m not sure how that’s relevant to our current conversation, unless you want me to analyze private jets and their massive carbon footprint.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ve never met someone who’s been in People magazine, and it’s fascinating. Ms. Monroe, your research as a woman in this field is—”
“No,” Sebastian says. Firm, concise. A dagger in my chest. “We’re not doing that. You’re singling her out. You’re asking her questions you aren’t asking the rest of us, and it’s uncalled for.”
“It’s only because she doesn’t have the notoriety that—”
“Dennis.” Sebastian looks past me to the man on my other side. “How many followers do you have on social media?”
“Ten on LinkedIn,” Dennis admits. “One is my mom.”
“Quincy.” His eyes cut over to me. “How many followers do you have on social media? Across all platforms?”
“Um.” I play with the sleeve of my blazer. Too many people are looking at me. “Three million.”
“You want to talk about notoriety, Dr. Schneider?” I swear the building shakes under the weight of Sebastian’s stare.
“Quincy’s online presence is substantial.
Her ability to foster an environment that promotes both learning and safety is remarkable, and she’s done more for the meteorological community than almost everyone in this room.
” He pauses for a breath. Clenched fists, chest heaving as if he’s going through battle.
“If you’re going to talk to her like she’s not the distinguished meteorologist she’s proven to be, like she doesn’t have the same credentials you have, I’ll be withdrawing my name from consideration for this position.
It doesn’t hurt my ego to say she’s a better scientist than me, and I don’t want to work for an agency who doesn’t support hiring the most qualified person for the job. ”
The interviewer’s table explodes into hushed whispers. There are raised voices and the disgruntled slam of a fist. Dr. Schneider scoffs and stands, storming to the exit. He throws the door open and I jump, only relaxing when the back of Sebastian’s hand brushes against mine.
I keep my face neutral. I don’t show any surprise, any anger. I’m an emotionless well unaffected by the things said about me.
A deep inhale, followed by a slow exhale. I blow out another long breath, all while Sebastian’s hand stays right there, exactly where I need it the most.
“Dr. Monroe. Please accept my apology on behalf of my colleague,” Dr. Matthews says.
“His behavior was inappropriate, and he will be removed from the hiring committee effective immediately. If you are selected for this role, I want you to know you will not be asked to associate with him. He’s based in our Jacksonville field office—though I don’t know for how much longer—so you will not be required to see him again. ”
“Oh.” I trace over the graph printed on my stack of research notes, hours of time I won’t get back. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“I think we’ve heard enough for today.” Dr. Matthews stands, the interview finished. The rest of the men follow him. “We’ll be in touch in the coming weeks.”
I don’t let out my breath until the door to the conference room closes.
“Fucking piece of shit.” Sebastian scoots back in his chair. Energy buzzes off him. He’s nearly vibrating as he paces the room, doing a lap around the table. He stops when he’s in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I repeat. “For what?”
“Jumping in like that. Speaking on your behalf. It’s—” He shakes his head. “It’s so fucked-up they would treat a candidate that way. I have an acquaintance who works for the Department of Commerce. He’s going to get a fucking earful from me.”
“Is there anyone you don’t know?” I ask weakly.
“A lot of people.” Heaviness hangs between us. “I’d ask if you were okay, but I know you’re not. And you don’t have to be. Emails and comments on your social media are one thing. It sucks to see it play out in real life.”
“Thank you.” I hold out my hand to him, an olive branch extended. He took a bullet for me, and it might have cost him everything. My bottom lip quivers, my eyes sting with tears. The emotionless well has broken, a crack in its structure. “Very much.”
One second I’m alone. The next, Sebastian is around the table, helping me to my feet. Strong, sturdy arms circle my waist. Before I have a chance to come up with a reason to back away, my cheek is resting on his chest as if it’s belonged there all along.
He hugs me like the world is going to end tomorrow, and my shoulders shake, pent-up frustration from years of carrying this burden alone seeping out with every rub of his palm down my spine. A soothing shh, followed by an even softer I’ve got you.
I’ve never been held like this before, and I get why Mia writes books about butterflies in your stomach and that moment when your feet come off the ground.
It’s the best feeling in the world.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For acting like this is a big deal. It’s just …
it feels like I’ve carried this … this weight of being a woman in this field for so long, and this is the first time I haven’t had to carry it alone.
I’m good at what I do. I know that. But every time someone like Dr. Schneider voices an opinion like that, when they toss out the infamous for a woman line, it derails all the work I and every other woman have done in the name of forward progress.
” I wipe my eye. “I sound like a broken fucking record, but at the end of the day, some of these people will never see my intelligence. They’ll never see my education or the hours I put into my work when I’m up late, charting a hurricane’s path across the ocean by hand.
They’ll see my boobs and my long hair, and that’s it. ”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” There’s fierceness in Sebastian’s tone. I don’t know where Dennis disappeared to or when, but we’re the only two left in the room. “This isn’t on you. This is never going to be on you, Quincy.”
“I’m so used to this shit, it practically rolls off me at this point. I don’t want … they can have the fame, the high-paying positions, and the air time. I just want to talk about the weather. That’s it. That’s what makes me happy.”
“Do you want to know a secret?”
“Are you going to tell me I have a booger hanging out of my nose?”
“No.” Sebastian grins. “You’re cute when you talk about weather.”
“Please.” I give his chest a shove. “I am not.”
“You really, really are. You light up when you get going. I’ve never seen someone so excited to tell other people about horizontal vorticity, but you are.
You act like it’s the coolest thing in the world, and it’s a joy to be a part of that.
You’re a gift to this community, Quincy, and I will yell that at every goddamn person until they hear me. ”
“Calling out someone’s shitty behavior might not warrant a job offer. I think you might have ruined your employment opportunity because of me.”
“Don’t care. I’d do it again.”
My heart constricts. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. “I’m getting makeup on your shirt. I’m a mess.”
“You could never be a mess.” He plays with my ponytail, fingers twirling the ends of my hair then letting them go. “Truth or Dare, Pres?”
“God.” I laugh, a watery chuckle. The last time one of us asked this, he kissed me into oblivion. Gave me the world’s finest orgasm and a new library of dirty dreams. “Truth,” I say, the safest answer.
“Does this make us friends?” Sebastian moves his hand to my wrist. He strokes over my pulse point, skin warm against mine. “It has to, right? United in the name of sexist assholes?”
“No.” I roll my lips together, a grin trying to fight its way through. It’s been happening more lately. Even more frequently when he’s around. “But it’s a start.”
“I’m playing the long game, Monroe. We’re just getting started.” He winks, one final squeeze of an embrace before he lets go. “And hey. Don’t you ever forget that you’re a badass bitch.”
I watch him walk away, thinking that being friends with him, that having him in my corner doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.
It sounds kind of nice.
THE RAINY DAY SHOW COMMENT SECTION
@AppleOrchardMaker: Anyone miss the Quincy/Sebastian duo? I loveeee The Rainy Day Show, but Sebastian is so fun!
@HockeyLover3842424: It took me way too long to put two and two together and realize he’s the weatherman who sneaks song lyrics into his broadcasts. SO funny!
@BeakersAndBarometers: He was also one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive.
@BookGirlForLife: Hot, smart, and talented? I bet he’s a freak in bed.
@WJC93: Like this comment if Sebastian and Quincy should team up again!
@FlyLife4Me082: I want to hear him do Sabrina Carpenter, lol. “Juno” or “Espresso” would be hysterical.
@SusanCoots1: I used to love Quincy’s page, but now with all the conversations about global warming, I think I’m going to have to unfollow. It’s too preachy.
@BeakersAndBarometers: Let me guess. You think the earth is flat, don’t you, @SusanCoots1?
@SusanCoots1: Until I can see that it’s round with my own eyes, I think we need to challenge authority.
@BeakersAndBarometers: Found the tinfoil hat wearer!