“Okay. Okay.” Boris runs a hand through his hair, harried. “I have a meeting with the director in—damn, ten minutes. I’ll push for this. I’ll be in touch later today, but... yeah. Things are different, with this.” He gives Levi a part-irritated, part-exhausted, part-admiring look. “I suppose I owe you my congratulations on bringing BLINK back from the dead.” My stomach somersaults. Holy shit. Holy shit. This is happening after all. “If I convince the director, there’s no margin of error. You’ll have to make the best neurostimulation helmets in the damn world.” Levi and I exchange a long glance and nod at the same time. When we step out of the office, Boris is swearing softly.
I’m mildly terrified by this turn of events. If we do get the go-ahead, everyone and their mother will be breathing down our necks. The honchos at NASA and NIH will vulture-circle on top of us. I’m going to have to explain to some creationist white guy on his twelfth senate term that brain stimulation is not the same thing as acupressure.
Oh, who am I kidding? I wouldn’t even mind it for a chance to actually work on BLINK and fix all those stubborn engineers’ mistakes. A chance that seemed long gone less than an hour ago, but now...
I press a hand against my lips, exhaling a laugh. It’s going to happen. Well, it’s probably going to happen. But NASA’s supposed to be chock-full of geniuses who’ll get us to Mars, no? They won’t be so stupid to block the project, not if it’s a now-or-never situation. I have no idea how Levi did it, but—
Levi.
I look up and there he is, staring at me with a soft smile as I grin into the ether like an idiot. I should snap at him to look away, but when our eyes meet I only want to grin more. We stand like that for several seconds, smiling moronically outside Boris’s office, until his expression goes serious.
“Bee.” What is it about the way he says my name? The pitch? His deep voice? Something else altogether? “About yesterday—”
I shake my head. “No. I...” God, this apology is going to be painful. Humiliating, too. The colonoscopy of apologies. Better get it over with. “Listen, you should have been more forthcoming about what was going on, but I probably shouldn’t have called you a... boob. Or a walnut. I’m not sure what was in my head and what I actually said out loud but... I’m sorry about coming to your office and insulting you.” There. Done. Colonoscopy’s over. My intestines are sparkling clean.
Except that Levi doesn’t even acknowledge my apology. “What you said, about me despising you. About things that I have done, I—”
“No, I was out of line. I mean, it’s all true, but—” I take a deep breath. “Listen, you have every right not to like me as long as you deal with it professionally. Even though, let’s be real, what’s wrong with you? I’m an absolute delight.” I give him an impish grin, but he doesn’t get that I’m teasing, because he stares at me with a toned-down version of yesterday’s stricken expression. Oops. I rock on my heels and clear my throat. “Sorry. Just kidding. I know there’s plenty to dislike about me and you are... you, while I am... yeah. Me. Very different. I know we’re nemesis of sorts—nemeses? Nemesi? Anyway, I got upset because I thought you were letting that dictate your behavior on BLINK. But clearly that’s not the case, so I apologize for assuming, and—feel free to carry on.” I manage a mostly sincere smile. “As long as you’re civil and fair at work, you can dislike away. Loathe me up. Abhor me to the moon. Detest me into the unknown.” I really mean it. Not that I relish the idea of him hating me, but it’s such a great improvement over yesterday, when I thought that his dislike would ruin my career, that I’m coming to peace with this. Sort of. “Did you actually engage in industrial espionage?”
“No. Maybe. A friend knows someone who works for—” Levi closes his eyes. “Bee. You don’t understand.”
I cock my head. “What don’t I understand?”
“I don’t dislike you.”
“Right.” Uh-huh. “So you’ve been acting like an ass to me for seven years because...?”
He sighs, his broad chest moving up and down. There’s a tuft of fur on the sleeve of his shirt. Does he have a pet? He looks like a dog person. Maybe it’s his daughter’s dog.
“Because I am an ass. An idiot, too.”
“Levi, it’s fine. I understand, really. When we lived in France, my sister loved this classmate of ours, Ines, and I could not stand her. I wanted to pull her braid for no reason. I actually did, once, which was... unfortunate, because my French aunt believed in sending kids to bed without dinner.” I shrug. Levi is pinching the bridge of his nose, probably shocked by how much I ramble when I’m still half-asleep. One more thing for him to hate about me, I guess. “The point is, sometimes dislike is a gut reaction. Like falling in love at first sight, you know? Just... the opposite.”
His eyes spring open. “Bee.” He swallows. “I—”
“Levi! Here you are.” Kaylee is walking toward us, an iPad in her hand. I wave at her, but Levi doesn’t stop staring. At me. “I need your approval on two items, and you and Guy have a meeting with Jonas in... Levi?”
He is, for unknown reasons, still staring at me. And the stricken expression is back. Do I have a sleep booger on my nose?
“Levi?”
Third time must be the charm, because he finally looks away. “Hey, Kaylee.”
They start talking and I walk away with another wave, daydreaming about coffee and a bra. I don’t know why I turn around one last time, right before stepping into the elevator. I really don’t know why, but Levi is looking at me again.
Even though Kaylee is still talking.
•••
IT’S TWO P.M., I’m wearing a bra (yes, a sports bra is a real bra; no, I do not accept constructive criticism) and sipping my eleventh coffee of the day when I get a text from Levi.
Bee, I’m using texts since emails are unreliable. Your equipment and computers will be here tomorrow. Let’s schedule a meeting to go over BLINK at your earliest convenience. Kaylee will be there shortly to set you up with NASA.gov email, so that you can access our servers. Let me know what else you need.
I can’t help myself. I must have learned nothing in the past weeks, because I do it again: I shoot off my chair and jump up and down, screeching loudly and joyously in the middle of the office. It’s happening. It’s happening. It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s—
“Um... Bee?”
I whirl around. Rocío is blinking at me from her desk, alarmed.