Caught In The Middle by Paramore
It’s 5:30 p.m. and Ben and I are making our way to the Railway, a pub just off campus. We both figured a drink would calm the nerves and pass the time before the big unveiling in Dr. Conrad’s office later. We also didn’t want to just mill around campus long after work hours were over. And truthfully, right now I need a distraction. The pub is a favorite neighborhood haunt for university students and staff.
The Railway is dimly lit with a mix of high and low top tables and plush blue velvet seating. Bookcases and large televisions cover the brick walls.
Ben gets his usual Old Fashioned and stands in the bar casually leaning up against the dark wood pillars attached to the exposed overhead beams. He honestly looks like a model standing like that, and I can see his eyes scanning the room to see if he’s been noticed. I order my usual, whatever local IPA is on tap, and start pacing in circles around him.
“Al, please. Stop circling. I haven’t had that much to drink and you’re making me dizzy.”
“Sorry.” I try to force my brain and my body to connect and stop spiraling.
He takes a sip of his drink and smiles at me. “I really don’t know how you drink that hoppy beer, Al. It’s so bitter.”
I laugh and shrug my shoulders. “Bitter like me, I guess.”
“Well, I’m not even going to argue with that.” He knows and loves my self deprecating humor, even though he sometimes can’t tell if I’m serious or not.
We couldn’t talk about the meeting too much in the bar as it’s a typical hangout for students and staff and we couldn’t risk anyone overhearing that a meeting even existed. I zoned out, watching hockey highlights on the television while Ben caught up with our normal bartender, Jenny. We have two drinks each and begin our walk back over to campus.
As we approach Dr. Conrad’s office building, Ben turns toward me.
“Alright! Any last guesses?” he asks as he’s walking backwards. He’s way too casual about all this for my liking. He views every obstacle and challenge as a new adventure. His fearlessness is something I love about him. But at this moment, I need him to come back down to earth and worry with me.
“Not at all. What does a theoretical physicist want with two historians?” I’m not interested in placing bets on what this could be. My mind will run away from me if I let that train leave the station.
Dr. Conrad’s secretary, Caroline Thayer, is waiting in the lobby to welcome us into the building. Caroline is in her mid-forties with thick, curly black hair. She’s sharply dressed in a gray pantsuit and black heels. I envy the ease with which she walks in heels. She glides, whereas I look like a baby giraffe taking its first steps. We wait for the elevator to take us to the ninth floor where Dr. Conrad’s office is. Caroline taps her foot on the floor while we wait, and it's making me even more anxious. The silence is tangible. We all know each other and have spoken before on numerous occasions, yet this time she’s not even attempting any polite small talk to fill the awkward space between us. I’ve been to this building once or twice before today. Ben brought me here for a staff mixer to meet his godfather just after we started at Chisholm. Dr. Conrad has always been welcoming to me, which I appreciated being in a new job. He and Ben’s father were roommates in college and have remained quite close, hence why he was named godfather to Ben. He was so involved in his research he never married or had children, so he sees Ben and his brothers as his nephews. When Ben moved from California, he called Dr. Conrad, who helped him secure a position at Chisholm.
His office building is more sleek and modern than ours. Our building feels almost like an extension of the campus library, with warm color tones and bookshelves throughout, and small pockets of space to burrow in. Dr. Conrad’s building is white and sterile. I’m half expecting a robotic butler to come out and take my coat. I take this as a reflection of the amount of funding his flashy profession gets compared to ours. He’s innovating for the future while we’re stuck in the past. As expensive and high tech as all the furnishings and decor is in this building, I find it to barely have the personality of an Apple store at the mall.
As we step out of the elevator, Caroline motions for us to follow her down the hallway. We pass the main conference room, which is glass paneled on all four sides. I always find that room to be odd, like a cage on display. I expected to be meeting there, but she continues on to Dr. Conrad’s personal office, where he has a separate smaller conference room attached. As she opens the door, I can see Dr. Conrad at the head of the rectangular table speaking in hushed tones with a man who I know to be his research partner, Dr. Malcolm McCoy.
Dr. McCoy and Dr. Conrad could not be more different physically. Dr. McCoy is at least six feet tall and is lean with salt and peppered black hair. He’s in his mid-fifties, clean shaven and well dressed in a tan suit. His green tie pops against his dark brown skin. He looks hilarious juxtaposed against Dr. Conrad, who sometimes looks like he’s just been startled awake. Dr. Conrad is at least six inches shorter than Dr. McCoy and about ten years older than him. He has thick-rimmed glasses that are attached around his neck. He’s heavier in the belly and his flannel shirt sticks out the bottom of his sweater vest.
“You’re here!” Dr. Conrad’s eyes brighten with excitement as his gaze lands upon us. He stretches out his arm to Ben first. “Dr. Turner! You need a shave, kid,” he says with a warm laugh deep from his belly.
His eyes turn toward me and he pulls my hand in to both of his. They’re warm and inviting, like him. “Alice, it’s so good to see you again.”
“Dr. Conrad, it’s—” I intended to remind him I prefer to be called Ali, but he interrupts me.
“James. You’re welcome to call me James, you know that. Though I suppose, given the nature of this meeting, we should stick to the formalities for now.”
Ben jumps in before I get the chance. “Right. About that. Why are we here?” He looks around the room for any clue leading to why we have been summoned here.
“I promise it will make sense soon. Be patient and wait until everyone is here,” Dr. Conrad replies. Everyone? Who else are we waiting for?
Dr. McCoy walks over to join us and shakes Ben’s hand. Dr. Conrad steps in to introduce me. “Malc, this is Alice Murphy. Alice, this is my research partner, Dr. Malcolm McCoy.”
Dr. McCoy reaches out to shake my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Alice. That’s a name you don’t hear often anymore. It’s lovely.”
“Thanks.” His hand grips mine in a firm shake. “I prefer Ali, though. It’s nice to meet you.” Although I attended the mixer here with Ben, I didn’t get a chance to meet Dr. McCoy.
After a few moments, two more people enter the room that I’m not familiar with. They must be who we have been waiting for. The woman is tall, she’s a good six inches taller than me, and I’m 5’3”. Her sleek blonde hair is pulled off her face with a red headband. She’s wearing a red and gray plaid shift dress and Mary Jane’s. She looks to be around Ben’s age and she sits down to the right of Dr. McCoy. Behind her is a tall male, around six feet, with ash brown hair slicked back. He’s wearing black dress pants and a gray shirt and black tie. He quickly takes the empty seat next to her and nods at us as he sits down.
“Alright everyone!” Dr. Conrad bellows from the head of the table to get our attention. “Now that you’re all here, I have one last thing before we get started.”
Caroline re-enters the room with a cart and begins handing out bottles of water and large manila envelopes. I carefully open my envelope while Ben excitedly rips his open beside me like it’s a Christmas present.
I pull out a stapled packet of paperwork. At the top of the first page, I see the phraseNon-Disclosure Agreement.
