My Professor(30)

I want her to look up so badly.

Look at me, Emelia.

Christopher reminds everyone of how the chain of command will work for the Belle Haven Estate. Even the employees who aren’t directly tied to the project will need to stay abreast of its progress. Now that I’m back from Paris for the foreseeable future, we’ve agreed I’ll take over as the project supervisor from here on out while Christopher maintains control of a few other projects we have in the pipeline, like the Cincinnati Courthouse restoration and the Boston Harbor development. Lewis will be the project manager under me. He also happens to be our principal architectural conservationist, so he will be Emelia’s direct supervisor, not me.

The meeting is done in twenty minutes, and the moment we break, Emelia is up and out of her seat and scurrying out of the room like a scared rabbit.

I would have considered going after her, but Lewis blocks my path, asking me inane questions about things I don’t care about at the fucking moment. I’m curt with him and he gets the hint, backing away and suggesting it’d be better if he just shot me an email instead. But even after he steps aside, there’s another person to take his place. Everyone wants to welcome me back from Paris, congratulate me on the work with Notre-Dame, or ask questions about Belle Haven. I put up with it for a few minutes, and then I take my leave.

Emelia’s behavior is contradictory. She’s a new hire at my firm, which is no coincidence. She knew who she was going to work for when she applied for the position. My name is on the side of the building; she must have realized we’d cross paths at some point. And yet her behavior in the conference room made it seem like she actually intends on trying to fly under the radar. Just like always, she wants to shrink into the shadows and hide.

Impossible.

The new hires have been dispersed around the office, but I know exactly where Emelia’s desk will be. The architectural conservationists are all housed in a cluster of cubicles on the second floor beside the executive offices, which means I’ve already walked past her multiple times this morning without realizing it. She could have made herself known, but she didn’t say a word.

I take the stairs to the second floor and am disappointed to find it’s already been repopulated with staff. The elevator doors open on my right, and I’m further disappointed as even more eager employees spill out, breaking the silence with their conversation. We aren’t alone by a long shot.

The way the cubicles are laid out, for me to get to my corner office at the end of the hall, I have to walk directly behind Emelia. Surely, she’s aware of my presence. Surely, she’s holding her breath, scared shitless of what I’m about to do.

But as I approach, she doesn’t look up. She sits behind her short wall with her attention down on her phone, completely unguarded. Doesn’t she know she’s not supposed to put her back to a predator? Her slender pale neck is completely exposed.

I slow my pace, unsure for a moment of what I can get away with right now with other employees within earshot, and then…my cell phone starts to buzz in my pocket.

I restrain an annoyed groan as I walk past her and answer it.

“Before you start, I’m not getting on a plane.”

That earns a short laugh from Emmett. “Understood. Fortunately, this doesn’t require any air travel on your end. I’m actually headed to Boston in a few days.”

“Seeing the sights?”

“Working. What else? I’ll be there for a few weeks. My father just sprung it on me. Alexander will join as well.”

With work taking me to Paris so often, Emmett and I have seen more of each other in the last year than we have since I graduated from Saint John’s. I’m glad he’ll be in town, though I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have once things get underway with the Belle Haven Estate.

“Anyway, I’m calling because GHV has a table for the Boston Children’s Hospital gala this weekend. I won’t be able to attend as I don’t arrive from Paris until the following day, but Alexander will be there.”

I step into my office and close the door.

“I was already planning to attend. Banks and Barclay is a sponsor.”

“Good. You know, I saw Miranda last night…she asked me about you, wondered how you were getting on in the States. Should I pass along an invitation?”

“No.”

“Ah. Trouble in paradise?”

I sound impatient when I reply, “She understands the situation.”

“So then you won’t be making an honest woman out of her anytime soon?”

I ignore his question, proceeding with a subject I’m much more curious about. “You know, I would have called you if you hadn’t reached out. My firm just took on a few new hires, and I think you’ll be curious about one of them.”

“Architects bore me. Unless she’s hot, I don’t—”

“It’s Emelia.”

Silence follows.

Then finally, with a clipped tone, he asks, “Why would that concern me?”

“She’s your little sister, isn’t she?”

It’s surreal to be having this conversation after so many years of keeping quiet.

“So you know how to work Google. I’m impressed.”

“You don’t sound impressed. Y’know, I was going to play favorites, maybe go easy on her, but it doesn’t seem like you’d care either way…”