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 himeverything. 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 soothingshh, followed by an even softerI’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. Iknowthat. But every time someone like Dr. Schneider voices an opinion like that, when they toss out the infamousfor a womanline, 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 isnevergoing 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 waythrough. 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
