“The McPherson committee only gives out one of these fellowships a year.” Shock makes my voice come out even more gravelly than normal. “The university can’t deny me tenure just because I don’t win it.”
She takes a step closer, too. Bumps up her chin in that annoying way she has, like she’s daring me to argue with her. “No, they can’t deny you tenure just because you don’t get the fellowship. Obviously. But the tenure committee will care about whether or not you try.”
Fuck.
Is she right?
She can’t be.
The tenure committee knows I do good work. My research is more important than any damn fellowship, even one as important and prestigious as the McPherson Fellowship. Even one worth five million dollars.
Because it’s not like the university cares about prestige or money.
Fuck.
God. Damn it.
She’s right.
They will care.
Almost as if she can read my thoughts, she keeps talking.
“The tenure committee needs to know that you’re committed to doing the right thing for the university. They need to know that you are an investment worth making. You need to be an asset that they can’t afford to lose.”
“The work I do here in this lab, the groundbreaking work that’s going to change the face of agriculture and possibly space exploration, should be more important than any stupid fellowship from the McPherson committee or anyone else.”
“I agree. Itshouldbe more important. But a breakthrough that canchangethe world isn’t worth jack if you can’tshare itwith the world.”
Her words hit too close to home. They land on every fear, every frustration I have. Despite myself, my emotions get away from me, and my words come out like a roar. “You think I don’t know that?”
I’ve spent decades working on controlling my temper. And there are few things that frustrate me more than when I lose control of it.
But this tiny little bundle of a woman pisses me off like no one ever has. She pushes every damn button I have. And before I know it, I’m stomping closer to her.
My breath is coming in fast, sharp inhalations, so I rip my face mask off and toss it onto the counter.
Part of me expects her to turn and run. To be afraid.
Because she’s tiny, and I’m huge. Every woman I’ve ever met—and most grown men—seem terrified when I lose my temper.
But she doesn’t turn and run. She doesn’t even back up. No. She takes a step closer and takes off her own face mask. By the time I speak, we’re mere inches apart; she is looking up at me, and I am glaring down at her.
“You think I don’t know this shit is important,” I say. “Idoknow it’s important. You think I don’t wish I was good at it? I do. But I’m not good at it. That’s why the university has hired three lab assistants to help me. Not because I need help with the research. Not because I need help analyzing samples. But because when it comes to talking to students, to other people, or when it comes to conveying my ideas, I fucking suck. I have other people who do it for me. That’s why you should turn tail and run. Or just meet with Gwen.”
Impossibly, Holly takes a small step even closer to me. She meets my gaze without flinching, unperturbed by the full blast of my fury.
“You may think that the university hires grad students for you so that you don’t have to do this kind of thing. But they’re not doing you any favors. And I don’t care whether or not you’re good at this. You don’t have to be.I’mgood at it. And I can make you good at it too. I can’t do that if you only let me meet with Gwen. The McPherson committee doesn’t want Gwen. They wantyou. They want you in interviews. They want you on social media. They want your thoughts. Not hers.”
Suddenly, staring down at her, I’m aware of three things. First, my heart is thundering because of how close she’s standing. I didn’t close the distance between us. She did. I’m looming over her and she’s not even batting an eye, because this tiny fireball of a woman isn’t afraid of anything.
The second thing I’m aware of is the inexplicable urge to kiss her. Quickly on the heels of that, I realize I’m staring at her lips as I imagine what it would be like to do so.
Shit. I’m staring at her lips.
Her unmasked lips.
“Why the hell did you take off your mask?” I roar at her.
