Fezza shook his head. “Or maybe she’s pressing for a relationship too quickly?”
“That’s not a problem,” he said. “It’s complicated. She’s got a lot of shit she’s going through right now, and I’m just dealing with it, okay?”
“She’s trying to pussy whip you, huh?” Dennis said sagely. “Chicks. Always trying to domesticate you.”
“Well, I’m through being fucking domesticated,” Abraham said savagely.
“Nobody’s asking you to be.”
The voice was female. He looked up, shocked — only to see Ani there. She held a bag of chicken from his favorite fried chicken place. She was also wearing an expression of pure, unadulterated rage.
“I hadn’t told anybody about the sex,” she said. “Nice to see you’re having an open discussion at your place of work.”
He winced. These guys were his friends, but she was right: it was a dick move. “Ani...”
“Oh, snap. You’re screwing Ani?” Fezza’s eyes bulged like billiard balls. “Tessa will castrate you with a melon baller!”
“I’m not afraid of Tessa,” Abraham shot back. “And that’s not the point here. Ani, can we step outside....”
“Nice,” Dennis said with a low whistle, not helping Abraham’s case any.
She tossed the food on his desk, then headed out with quick steps. Abraham had to practically run to catch up with her. “Would you slow down, goddamn it!”
“I don’t know that we have anything else to say,” she said. “You said that we don’t have a relationship. I’ve got too much shit, too much baggage. And you’re through being domesticated,” she said. “I’m not looking to domesticate you. You don’t want to be in a relationship? You’re the one who pushed for one. You want everything your way. You think it’s unfair that you do what women have been doing for centuries — being the helpmate, being the one who actually gives the support and the shoulder, who bears the burden quietly. Too much for you? Fuck. Right. Off.” Her eyes sparkled like obsidian. “I don’t need you, Abraham Williams. We’re done here.”
He felt his stomach clench like a fist. “No, we’re not.”
“You don’t get to say that. Do you understand?” She got in his face. “You don’t get to be an Alpha-hole and then decide you’re going to push until you get your way. I have enough to deal with, and I am through with your baggage. I am done with you, do you understand?”
He reached out, kissing her.
She pushed back, and then slapped him. Hard.
“Done!” she shouted, then went to her car, slamming the door.
He felt like he’d been run over when she drove away.
Ani sat sobbing at the bookstore. She could’ve gone to her apartment, but the thought of being surrounded by mess and her defense proposal notes was somehow even more depressing than her current state of woe, so she went to the only place she could think of to provide some kind of comfort.
Cressida was there, and Tessa was on her way. Hailey was out with Jake, and Rachel was still at school. She was waiting for Tessa to come home. Fortunately, there weren’t many customers, and Cressida had ushered her back into the private area, the kitchen, so she wouldn’t be disturbed. When the customer left, Cressida went back to her, giving her a hug.
“You okay?”
She liked Cressida. Cressida was always kind to her, always a good listener, and bottom line, utterly non-judgmental. In fits and starts, she told her everything about the adviser, about her relationship — or non-relationship, if what he said was true — with Abraham. By the time she was done, she was crying all over again. Cressida just listened, putting an arm around her shoulders, bringing tissues, and nodding.
“It sounds bad, doesn’t it?” Ani said finally, when the storm of crying and anguish finally burst itself out. “I feel like an idiot. I should’ve just kept it physical: what happened at Con could’ve just stayed there. But I got greedy.”
“Sounds like the sex was awesome, and he was actually being a good guy,” Cressida said. “Now, keep in mind: I’ve got no practical experience myself. But it also sounds like he had the deck stacked against him. From what Tessa’s told me, those guys are all ‘guys’ in the Tim Allen mode — growling, over-the-top, Alpha dog guys. She’s lucky she got Adam, honestly. And I know what gamers are like,” she said, with a dark tone. “Trust me, I’ve played enough MMO’s to know what men can be like online. So that’s the culture he’s coming from.”
“So that makes it all right?” Ani said, incensed.
“Absolutely not. I think you’re right, the relationship’s hosed there if he doesn’t grow and learn,” Cressida said, and Ani wiped at more tears. “But I think we can see where his attitude comes from. Sounds like his Dad was super-toxic-masculine, and he’s surrounded by his sisters who are stay at home moms who went along with their father’s idea of the gender status quo. And then he went to the military, and then went into games. The only way he could’ve gotten more toxic is if he’d gone to prison or something.”
“I don’t care,” Ani said. “He doesn’t get to treat me like shit.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Cressida said fiercely. “He absolutely doesn’t, no matter what the reason. He’ll need to grovel like hell for any sort of chance... and even then, maybe he shouldn’t get one.”
“You’re a good friend,” she said, hugging Cressida again.
“Thanks.” Cressida leaned back. “I’m more concerned about your adviser, anyway.”
Ani felt her chest shrink, collapsing in on itself. “So am I. Oh, God, so am I. I don’t know what I’m going to do there. I think he’s going to hose me, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.”
“You walked away from Abraham, because he wasn’t treating you right,” Cressida pointed out.
“This is my future,” Ani said. “This is my life.”
“If it were all about love, you chose to walk way because it wouldn’t be worth it,” Cressida said, her voice low but persuasive. “Is it worth living your professional life in the shadow of all this? Is this the way you want the rest of your life to go?”
Ani sighed, gritting her teeth. She wanted to go into this to make a difference — to help save lives. What would happen if they didn’t let her? What would happen if they told her that she would have to just do grunt work forever?
Would that make it worth it?
“No,” she finally breathed. “No. It’s not worth it.”
“So you’re gonna have to fight for it,” Cressida said. “Trust me. I know what it’s like to be afraid of something, like your life depended on it.”
Ani felt a stab of guilt. “I feel badly. Here you are, fighting every day...”
“No, don’t do that,” Cressida said quickly. “I didn’t mention that for you to feel sorry or feel ‘inspired’ or any of that. I just... I get it. I get how you’re feeling. And if you decide to ride with it, I’ll still support you. But I also get the feeling that you won’t be happy, and ultimately that’ll eat away at you,” Cressida said. “Just think about it, okay?”
Tessa came in the door at that point. “How are you? Do I have to kill Abraham? Or your adviser? Anybody else?” Tessa’s eyes glowed with vengeance.
Ani hugged Tessa, then hugged Cressida again. “You guys are the best, the absolute best,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I’d drink, but I’ve got proposal defense, and I can’t afford to until that’s done. But I think I’ve got a plan...”
Fortunately, none of the guys had given him any shit when he walked back into work after Ani left. If anything, they made themselves scarce for the rest of the day, no doubt because of the murderous look on his face. Apparently, he’d broken up with Ani — or, more to the point, she’d broken up with him, hard. He could still feel the slap, still heard her shout of “Done!” ringing in his ears.
He may well have fucked up, he realized a few days later. But she’d made it clear: she didn’t want to hear anything else from him. She didn’t want him making this about h
im, he thought with anger. So he was doing what she asked. Staying the hell away from her. Letting her tackle her proposal defense without him. Live her life without him.
Too bad it made him feel so damned awful. Breaking up with Becky had been a sort of relief. Breaking up with all his past girlfriends, even the long-term ones, had been varying shades of resignation and relief. But this? This was like getting torn up with a rusty chainsaw. He drank heavily, by himself, playing video games until he passed out in his gaming chair. He’d gotten drunk enough to throw up, which he hadn’t done in years. It hadn’t helped his mood at all. now he was stone cold sober, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her couldn’t stop focusing on what he could’ve done differently — and how it all went wrong.
There was a knock on the door, and he frowned. Ani, his heart thought, jumping a little. He went to the door.
To his shock, there were his parents on his doorstep.
“Is everything all right?” he asked immediately. His father didn’t like to leave the farmstead unless he absolutely had to, and his mother just went out for things like food shopping or hanging out with her church group.
“Sure. Your mother just wanted to go to some knitting store up here, and she wanted me to drive,” his father said, with a shrug.
Abraham’s eyes narrowed. He knew damned good and well that his mother drove everywhere by herself. “What is this, really?”
“Ah... your sister might’ve called you the other night, and said you were upset.”
He winced. He should’ve known better. Should’ve shut off his phone when he got roaring drunk and upset. “Which sister?”
“Darla.” His mother sighed. “So, you’re having some trouble with that girl of yours, are you?”
“I told your mother to stay out of this,” his father said to Abraham, heading to the kitchen and helping himself to a beer. “But you know how she is. Just has to get involved.”
His mother ignored that little comment. “What happened?” she asked instead.
He sighed. “I screwed up,” he said. “I won’t go into details, but I was getting upset, and I felt... I don’t know. Resentful.”
“Resentful why?”
In fits and spurts, he let out details: how he was bringing her food, making sure he was there for her, bringing her to get her equipment fixed... and then putting up with shit from her adviser being the straw that broke the camel’s back. He noticed his father getting more and more incensed.
“You were absolutely right to dump her ass,” his father ground out. “Jesus Christ. Does she want you to be absolute pussy? Hand you your balls in a Ziploc bag?”
“Carl!” his mother said sharply. “What was he supposed to do? Just.... just beat the man for being unprofessional and snide?”
“For being disrespectful!” his father roared. “And she expects you to just stand by while someone acts like you’re some… some pussy househusband?”
His mother rolled her eyes in obvious frustration.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Helen!” Carl snapped.
Abraham jumped up. “Don’t yell at Mom!” he snapped back.
His mother held up her hands, her voice trembling. “Boys, please.”
Abraham’s father scowled, but he nodded, and Abraham backed down a little, his heart beating fast. “Ani was right. I couldn’t just beat up someone because he pissed me off. It didn’t have anything to do with me, really. He was messing with her,” Abraham said, realizing it for the first time. “The guy’s got nothing to do with me.”
“he was treating you with disrespect,” his father disagreed. “You just gonna take that? You could’ve backed him down, put the fear of Abe into ‘em...”
“Dad,” Abraham interrupted, “it would’ve messed with her career.”
“Oh, her career,” his father said. “If her career is more important than you, then you’re better off without her, anyway!”
He frowned, thinking of what she’d said. “If you had to give up being an electrician to be with Mom, would you?” he asked.
His father frowned back. “Why the hell would I have to give up that?”
“Just... would you? Would you have changed your career to be with her?”
“That’s different and you know it,” his father scoffed.
“You know how you make fun of my job all the time? Yeah, you do, Dad. You think I should still be in the army, and I’ve learned to deal with that,” he said sharply when his father started to splutter his denial. “But the fact is, she could be saving thousands, maybe millions, of lives, if she does what she does. Her job is important. And even if it wasn’t — if she loves doing it, why do I need to make her choose between letting me have my pride, and letting her have her career? What is that all about?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” his father said, obviously baffled. “You sound like one of those ... those feminists!”
Abraham shrugged, feeling exhausted. “I don’t know what I sound like,” he said. “But I know that I love this girl, and I hurt like hell not being with her.”
“You’re making your choice then,” his father said, his eyes matching Abraham’s, gray and icy. “But don’t come crying to me when she leaves you like some… some wimpy loser!”
He stormed out.
“He’s just angry,” Abraham’s mother said. “I’ll calm him down, and we’ll get through this.”
“Mom,” Abraham asked. “Why do you put up with all this?”
She sighed. “Because I love him,” she said.
“Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you have to put up with bullshit,” Abraham said quietly.
She straightened. “I handle your father in my own way,” she said, with soft but firm pride. “That said — I think you’re right. You messed up with this girl, dear. Make it up to her. She seems special, and I’d hate for you to lose someone you obviously care about so much.”
She hugged him, then scurried off after his father at a quick pace.
Chapter 12
The day of her proposal defense, Ani was wearing a dress. She’d considered wearing a pants suit, wanting to look as serious as a malaria outbreak. But Cressida, Rachel and Hailey had convinced her that she didn’t have to sacrifice being traditionally feminine, or enjoying that side of herself, to prove a point that she was serious, not hysterical, not emotional. She liked the way the deep fuchsia dress hovered over her legs. She could tell from one look at Dr. Peterson that he was not amused by the dress she was wearing. She adjusted the cloisonné pin on the lapel of her scoop-neck dress and walked over to him.
“Do you really think that this... this outfit,” he said, his voice irate, “is appropriate for a proposal defense?”
“It’s a Nordstrom dress, and it’s professional,” she said. “It’s got a bright color, but I think that it’s more than appropriate.”
He pulled her aside. “You’re not going to pass, you know.”
She blinked. He was saying it. “What?”
“Your thesis. Your proposal. It’s not going through,” he said. “I can guarantee that.”
She gasped, shocked that what she’d suspected was finally, baldly being confirmed. “But the rest of the board...”
“Will listen to me,” he ground out. “I am your adviser. And I rather thought you’d take the hint. You don’t belong here.”
“Why not?” she said, standing her ground. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
“And questioned me on it!” His nostrils flared.
“I’ve done the grading with no problems. Carried out your experiments flawlessly,” she said, her own voice rising a bit.
“But you’ve been insolent and emotional,” he said. “You wouldn’t see Jeffrey giving me the attitude that you have displayed, Miss!”
“Have you given him eighty percent of the grading and grunt work?” she shot back.
“I didn’t need to. He knows his place!”
“And what is that?” she asked, throwi
ng care to the wind. “You say that I’m emotional. How is this not emotional? I think that you’re making this decision because you don’t like women in your laboratory!”
He grimaced. “All you women say that.”
“Not helping your case any.”
“I’m not sexist,” he said, his voice a jagged edge. “It’s not my fault you women can’t step up to the mark.”
“It is your fault that you’re trying to deliberately make them fail,” she said, her voice clear and angry. “It’s your fault that you’re deliberately telling me that, no matter what, I will not be able to pass. That you are going to torpedo my proposal defense because you feel like I don’t belong in a lab.”
“You won’t be able to prove it,” he said. “I don’t need to explain why I don’t feel you’re ready yet. I am your adviser. I don’t have to prove a god damned thing.”
She smiled. Then she pulled the recorder out of her pocket. She rewound it, until his voice piped out. “Your proposal, it’s not going through. I can guarantee that.”
“That’s... that’s not legal!” he said. “I’ll sue you!”
“Do that,” she said. “In the meantime, I’m bringing this to the Dean, and to the board. This is sexual discrimination and harassment. And I have proof.”
“I’ll make sure your career is ruined,” he said, his eyes bugging out like a pug’s, his complexion red as a tomato. “I’ll make sure you never get a job in any respectable laboratory anywhere. You might think you’ve won, but trust me — there are enough people out there, men out there, who still listen to me and who will know you set this up as a vendetta against me. Your career is over!”
She felt a momentary pang of terror. What if he was right? Was her career over before it had even begun?
She swallowed hard. Then nodded.
“So be it,” she said. “I’m going to do this because it’s not right — and because I’m not going to roll over and be scared of you, play ball because you might throw me some scraps. I deserve this, and more importantly — no other woman deserves to deal with your bullshit fear tactics. If it means I lose my career but I save a bunch of others, then I guess it’s worth it.”
What Happens at Con Page 16