Mia
Let us know when you’re ?nished so we can get dinner and hear all about it.
I don’t think I’ve slept in a week. Between my shows and getting this presentation ready, I’m a zombie. I hope it goes well.
Mia
You’re going to do great. We believe in you.
I might need a bottle of wine later in case things go to shit.
Harlow
They’re not going to.
I love y’all. I wish you were doing the hiring.
Mia
Probably for the best that we’re not. I don’t know what three-quarters of the words you use mean. I’m not ?t to hire meteorologists, and I don’t want the country to head into a weather crisis because of my poor choices.
Harlow
We’ll be your virtual hype squad.
Okay, I’m going inside. I can do this. I’ll see you tonight!
Mia
Knock them dead, babe.
The universe isn’t fair.
If it were, I wouldn’t be seeing Sebastian like this for the first time since he gave me an orgasm.
He’s wearing business casual, complete with a tie that matches his eyes and polished leather shoes with laces tied in neat bows. His slacks are pressed and tailored, cuffed right above the ankle so they show off the hint of a fun pair of socks.
Penguins holding umbrellas and dancing in the rain.
They’re ridiculously cute.
He rolled his sleeves to his elbows to show off his forearms, and when he looks up at me with a grin the devil himself would be proud of, I almost trip.
Goddamn him for pressing me into a wall.
And goddamn me for going along with it.
“There she is.” Sebastian stands, a folder tucked under his arm and his jacket slung over the back of his chair. “I was starting to think you might not show.”
“I needed a few minutes of peace and quiet before I kicked your ass. It’s always good to relax before you drink the blood of your enemies.”
“Enemy, huh?” His eyes flick down my body. A delighted hum sneaks out of him when he studies the blouse I buttoned close to my neck and the black skirt I ironed late last night when my stomach was knotted with nerves. There’s a low whistle. The hint of a flush to his cheeks. “Damn. You look good, Quincy.”
“Thanks.” It’s my turn to blush, and I do my best to recover quickly. “The paper on the door says we’ll be on a panel with a guy named Dennis Terry. Have you heard of him?”
“Vaguely. Tampa guy, I think. No idea about his credentials. This is going to be interesting. I haven’t done a debate panel since some of our college classes. It’s an unusual approach, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but you know how it is. So much of this job is data-driven, and evolving research in our field is always a hot topic. Different opinions, different methods. Different approaches and different models to forecast intensities and which version is the ‘best’ and most ‘accurate.’ Presenting alongside our colleagues opens the door for conversations we’d have in real life too.”
