My Professor(32)



The elevator dings on the seventh floor.

“Happy belated birthday, by the way.”





Chapter Thirteen





Emelia



* * *



He leaves me in the elevator, too stunned to speak.

My birthday.

The night we were together in the bar bathroom.

What a not-so-subtle bomb to drop.

I stand there motionless long enough that the elevator thinks it’s time to go pick up someone else. I huff in annoyance and scurry out before the doors close with me still inside.

Up ahead, Professor Barclay disappears down the long hallway, seemingly unbothered by what just took place; meanwhile I’m completely shaken. I head toward my desk, trying not to panic.

This is…bad.

But not pack-my-things-and-flee-the-building bad, or so I hope. Let’s take stock of the situation. Obviously, I can formally retire two out of the three possibilities: that I’m working at Banks and Barclay because Professor Barclay doesn’t remember me and has let bygones be bygones.

Happy belated birthday.

Oh god. Whatever tension we had before is still alive and well.

Thank god Professor Barclay isn’t my direct supervisor; that’s Lewis. Well, actually it’s a senior manager in the conservation department named Doug who then reports to Lewis, which is even better. I want all the degrees of separation I can get.

“Morning, Emelia!”

I look up to find my cubicle-mate Meera beaming at me with optimistic enthusiasm. She has brown ringlet curls that are voluminous and springy. The tips are dyed bubblegum pink, the same shade as her trendy glasses. We’ve only worked together one day and already I feel like I know everything about her. She applied to work at Banks and Barclay two years ago and didn’t land a position. She’s in a “single and working on herself” phase. She can’t stand the taste of tomatoes. She’s a diehard fan of BTS and thinks I would be too if only I gave their music a chance.

“Did you just get to ride up here with Mr. Barclay?”

I play the dumbest of dumb as I drop my stuff onto my desk.

“Oh…was that him in the elevator?”

She laughs like she thinks my joke is hilarious.

“I assumed Hugo would be here by now,” Meera notes. “He’s bringing us coffee, but don’t tell him I spoiled the surprise.”

Hugo is our third cubicle-mate and the other new hire in the conservation department. The three of us made quite the interesting trio yesterday. Hugo talks just as much as Meera, which means I barely got a word in edgewise. But that’s okay—I actually prefer it that way.

I take a seat at my desk. Right now, it’s time to work.

Work.

The reason I’m here.

To keep the very important dream job I’ve always wanted.

Focus.

As the newest members of the team, Meera, Hugo, and I have been relegated to grunt work, but I truly don’t mind. At least this grunt work pertains to my actual field of study, compared to my last job where I was doing Starbucks runs and post office drops.

Right now, our main focus is aimed on creating a database and reference sheet for the Belle Haven Estate that will be shared across the firm. Unlike in other large building projects, we’ve not found any archival sketches or plans from the original build, no blueprints, nothing. At the time of construction in the early 1900s, there would have been an excessive number of plans shared between the supervising architect, chief contractor, chief engineer, and Alva herself, but whether those have been lost or intentionally kept hidden, we’ll never know, and it doesn’t really matter. Either way, without them, we’re forced to work backward, studying and sampling every material used in the project so the Banks and Barclay team can finish what was started over a hundred years ago.

Tomorrow, we’re going out to the estate to walk the property, take reference photos, and collect samples. I can barely contain my excitement. I wasn’t sure at first if the new hires would be included in the trip, but Lewis assured us it’s important that we attend, if for no other reason than to take diligent notes.

To make it even more official, someone from legal comes around at lunch time to have us all sign a non-disclosure agreement stating we’ll keep details of the estate and restoration under wraps until construction is complete and photos have been shared by approved publications, which only makes the whole thing feel even more exciting and glamorous.

We’re in the middle of the meeting with legal when I see Professor Barclay walking down the hall, talking with Lewis. This morning, while perusing the floor and getting my bearings, I discovered innocently enough that Professor Barclay’s office is on the same floor as my cubicle. In fact, he’s just down the hall. If he left his door open, he’d have a clear view of me, but all morning, it’s been shut—a fact I resent knowing, just like now. I don’t want to be so hyperaware of his presence, but the fact is, as he walks behind my chair with Lewis, I hold my breath, anticipating something, but he merely continues on, which…of course he does. What am I expecting him to do in broad daylight? In the middle of the office?

I don’t see him the rest of the day.

I don’t know how I feel about that. I refuse to assess my feelings, but I am the last one to leave out of Meera, Hugo, and me. I can tell myself it’s because I want to make the best impression during my first week, but Doug and Lewis had to leave the office at four…so who exactly am I trying to impress?

R.S. Grey's Books