“That's it?” Lucas looks disappointed. “No personal touch? No charm?”
“It wasn't a dating app message, Lucas. It was a communication between scientists.” I take another sip of my club soda, wishing it were something stronger.
“Scientists are people too,” Lucas counters. “Even the scary tornado lady.”
I glare at him. “That 'scary tornado lady' has probably saved more lives with her early warnings than your entire weather team combined.”
Lucas holds up his hands in surrender. “Fair point. I just mean you can be a bit clinical sometimes. People respond to genuine human connection.”
“I was genuine,” I insist, though doubt creeps in. Was my email too formal? Too desperate?
Our food arrives, momentarily halting the conversation. I pick at my burger without much enthusiasm.
“So what happens if she doesn't respond?” Lucas asks through a mouthful of fries.
“Then I find another way to validate my models.” I shrug, trying to sound more nonchalant than I feel. “There are other storm chasers.”
“Not like her,” Lucas points out. “Her data is unparalleled.”
“I'm aware.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes before Lucas clears his throat. “You know, I really am sorry,” he says quietly. “I wasn't thinking.”
“That's the problem, isn't it?” I push a fry around in ketchup without eating it. “You never think about the consequences.”
“Look who's talking,” Lucas counters, but there's no heat in it. “Mr. I-Can-Calculate-The-Exact-Trajectory-Of-A-Tornado-But-Not-How-To-Talk-To-People.”
I can't help the small smile that tugs at my mouth. “Fair point.”
“So what now?” Lucas asks. “You just wait for her to respond?”
“I guess so.” I finally take a bite of my burger. “Not much else I can do.”
“You could call her.”
I nearly choke. “Absolutely not. That would be crossing a line.”
“Emails are easy to ignore,” Lucas points out. “Phone calls are harder. I’m sure my producer has her number.”
“Absolutely not,” I counter. “I sent the email. The ball is in her court now.”
My phone buzzes on the table between us. We both freeze, staring at it like it might explode. I flip it over, heart racing embarrassingly fast.
It's Eleanor.
Don't forget the department budget meeting tomorrow. 9 AM sharp.
The disappointment is more acute than it should be.
“Not her?” Lucas asks.
“No, just my department chair,” I say, tucking the phone away. “Reminding me about a budget meeting.”
Lucas nods, visibly relieved. “Look, if she doesn't respond by the weekend, I have an idea.”
I groan. “The last time you had an idea, I ended up in this mess.”
“Hear me out.” He leans forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “There's a big storm system moving in from the west. All the models show potential supercell development across northern Oklahoma. Perfect tornado conditions.”
