by Darci Balogh
The sound of her computer waking up was comforting. She was happy to dive into the new data they had gathered last week. Reviewing columns and columns of numbers sounded calming. As her computer booted, Sofia leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea. She gazed out the window at the campus waking up and felt her shoulders relaxing. She was in her element again.
A juicy harrumph came from the other room. Professor Shipley's office to be exact. Furrowing her brow, Sofia got up to investigate and was surprised to see Professor Shipley sitting behind a pile of books and paperwork in the light of a single desk lamp. He looked up sharply when she peeked into his office.
"Dr. Venegas." It was a statement more than a greeting.
"Good morning, Professor Shipley. I’m sorry, I didn't know anyone was here yet.” She felt the need to apologize. He grunted in response and Sofia assumed their conversation was over. That seemed to be how most of their conversations went, she groveled and he grunted. She turned to go back to her desk when he stopped her.
"I have a question for you," he said gruffly.
She turned back and stepped into his office, just barely. "Yes?"
Professor Shipley moved one pile of paperwork off of a large stack and picked up a thick report their research assistant, Henry, had printed out on Friday. He flipped to the end of the report and turned it toward Sofia, dropping it unceremoniously on the edge of his desk.
"What is this?" He pointed heavily at the page that now lay open.
Sofia stepped forward to look at what he was pointing at, leaning over the report as if it was a strange specimen that couldn't be touched. Scanning the document, her initial reaction was confusion. What was the professor indicating with his thick finger?
He harrumphed again, impatiently this time. Sofia glanced up at him. He was peering at her over the tops of his glasses. In his expression was every moment of disappointment she had ever caused her father as a child and her harshest teachers and professors during her education. Sofia's mouth went dry. She looked back to the report and zeroed in on the numbers, her brain racing to find the answer.
Then she saw it. Shining like a beacon off the page, but not a beacon of hope. One of failure.
Sofia tried to swallow so she could speak, but her throat was just as dry as her mouth.
"Do you see it?" Professor Shipley asked. He knew the answer. He could read it on her face.
Sofia nodded, flushing with embarrassment. "Yes," she croaked.
She did see it. A mistake. A big mistake. There was a gap in the numbers. A gap that would obviously skew the final results reported on the last page of the report. A gap that was so apparent it was like someone behind her was shining a flashlight on that exact section of the paper.
How had this happened? She'd reviewed the numbers herself on Friday before she left early for her trip. Henry and Liza had checked them over, too. Sofia felt sick to her stomach. She hadn't shown them to Dr. Clara before leaving them on Professor Shipley's desk. Obviously, that had been a poor decision.
Professor Shipley picked up the report and shoved it at her unceremoniously. Still looking at her over his glasses, his large, liquid eyes fixed on hers, displeased.
"I'm sorry," she managed. "There's obviously missing data."
"Yes, obviously," he responded. As she picked up the worthless report, he continued, "Details, Dr. Venegas." He stretched the word 'doctor' out with something falling just short of contempt. Sofia shrank from his words, but only on the inside. On the outside she stood straight as an arrow and looked him in the eye as he spoke. "Details cannot be brushed aside. They cannot be overlooked. They cannot be missed."
"Yes, sir."
Professor Shipley looked at her sharply, trying to determine if she was sufficiently contrite or if she was being flippant.
"Good morning! I brought breakfast!" Dr. Clara poked her head into the office. Sofia used the distraction of her arrival to duck out of Professor Shipley's office and avoid further reprimands. She hurried to her cubby hole desk and tossed the incorrect report on her desk. Her tea was cold. Skinny raindrops slicked the window. The day outside was turning out to be gloomy, just like everything else in her life.
Later in the afternoon, Sofia's sick stomach had migrated and become a terrible headache. Hunched over her desk all day she had declined Dr. Clara's offer of breakfast and Henry and Liza's offer of picking her up a sandwich for lunch. Surviving only on tea or coffee with buckets of sugar, Sofia was determined to not only fix the mistake Professor Shipley had pointed out to her, but also build another block of data that would blow his mind. She desperately wanted to redeem herself. She was smarter than this one mistake and she knew she was capable of doing great work. The problem was, things just weren't flowing.
Sofia sighed for the thousandth time that day, having caught herself staring out the window at the rain that had dropped down over London and was not letting up. She kept getting distracted. Her computer screen glowed with a dozen different spreadsheets bursting with data. Several browser windows were also open, filled with computer code that she was reviewing, tweaking or testing. She had fixed the initial glitch that caused the problem in the report, that had been no big deal. But she was knee deep in creating the new information she hoped would impress Professor Shipley, and she was getting bogged down.
Looking back to her computer screen, the images blurred. She had to rub her eyes, which only made them blur more. She'd been staring at screens too long. No wonder her eyes kept wandering out the window. They were tired. She was tired.
Sofia leaned back and stretched the kinks out of her shoulders. The back of her wheeled desk chair squeaked in defiance. Pushing the chair away from her desk, she turned it on the hard wood floor so she was facing the large table in the center of the room. Liza was alone there, tapping away at her laptop.
Sofia glanced at the darkened doorways of Professor Shipley's and Dr. Clara's offices, then back to Liza. "Are we the only ones here?"
Liza didn't answer, just kept typing away. A thin black wire hung down from under her hair and dropped to the laptop where it was plugged in. Ear buds. Sofia waved at her and the motion caught Liza's attention.
She stopped typing, pulled the ear buds out of her ears and said, "Oh, hello! You've been busy, then?"
Sofia's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. It read 4:26. She'd been holed up at her desk since 7:30 this morning. No wonder her eyes were tired.
"Yes, a little. Trying to push through a few things."
"Right," Liza smiled. Her dark bangs were flopped down over one eye, giving her a sort of floppy eared puppy dog look.
"Where's Henry?"
"He had to leave early today. Doctor appointment or something?"
A firm knock on the office door interrupted them. As they watched, the door pushed open and, much to Sofia's surprise, Ian stepped into the room.
He wore his signature worn jeans and black boots, along with an olive green long sleeve sweater over a white button up shirt. The sleeves were rolled and pushed up past his elbows so his tattoos were visible. Liza, being closest to the door, was the first person he saw.
"Hullo," he said politely. Then his eyes shifted to Sofia and warmed. "Hullo! I was hoping I had the right door."
Sofia couldn't help but notice Liza's shock and admiration upon seeing Ian in all of his impressive glory. The younger woman blushed and stammered. Ian, always cool and charming, included her in his warm smile after greeting Sofia. His eyes held a greenish gold hue today, probably because of the color of his sweater. Even in a sweater he had an edgy sexiness about him that screamed 'rock & roll'.
"What are you doing here?" Sofia asked accusingly. The surprise of seeing him brought all of her tension to the surface.
Ian's smile faltered, but only slightly, before he explained, "I've come by to see if you'd like to grab a bite."
Heat rose in Sofia's cheeks as Liza's wide eyes moved from Ian to Sofia. This was really too much. She was at work. He hadn't even called or text
ed to see if it was okay to drop by. Her embarrassment was fast boiling into anger. She couldn't take much more stress today. She was at her tipping point.
"I called...and texted...but you didn't answer. And I was in the neighborhood..." his voice trailed off as he could see that he was not being welcomed with open arms.
"I'm Liza," Liza said abruptly. She stood and offered her slim, pale hand to him.
He took it with a smile. "I'm Ian."
"You're a friend of Sofia's?" Liza said, politely trying to create conversation.
"Yes," Ian said, then he blushed endearingly. "Friend, yes." He cleared his throat and Sofia could tell that Liza knew the entire story of their relationship because of his stammering answer.
"Ian, I–" she started, but was stopped by the bumbling entrance of Dr. Clara into the room.
"Oh, pardon me," Dr. Clara said in her upbeat musical tone as she bumped into Ian in the doorway. She carried a purse and a laptop bag over her wide, awkward shoulder and her arms were full of books.
"No, pardon me," Ian said, stepping back. "Here, let me help you." He took the books from her and stepped out of her way.
"Thank you, so much. You can set them down anywhere," Dr. Clara said, waving her large hand happily toward the long table.
"This is Sofia's friend, Ian," Liza interjected.
"Oh, marvelous," Dr. Clara exclaimed. She extended her hand to Ian who graciously took it after placing the books on the table. "I'm Dr. Clara Weston."
"Ian...Ian Law," he gave her a small, informal bow as he shook her hand.
"Nice name," Dr. Clara said. She shot Sofia an approving look then shared an amused glance with Liza.
This needed to end.
"Ian, can I talk to you for a minute?" Sofia blurted out. All eyes turned to her in surprise at her tone. She didn't care. This was her job and she was not going to jeopardize it because Ian Law couldn't take no for an answer. "Outside?" She arched her brow at him.
Ian only hesitated for an instant before answering, "Of course." He turned to Dr. Clara and Liza, "Very nice meeting you both."
In the hallway Sofia spoke to him in a harsh whisper, "You can't come by my work!"
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I thought you might be done for the day." He looked her up and down, taking in her disheveled hair and pinched expression. "And might be hungry or tired..."
"I am hungry and I am tired," she said. She felt like crying, which made her furious. "And I have a headache and I have a job, Ian. A job that is very important to me."
"Of course," he said with sincerity. His kind do-good thing wrapped up in the appealing rock star package wasn't working for her right now. They were not dating and, more than that, she did not want to date some wannabe musician. It was time she made her feelings perfectly clear.
"I can't deal with this right now. I have a big project going on and this," she flapped her hands violently in his direction, "just stresses me out." Her voice had a tremor induced by fury and the tears that wanted to fall. "I don't want a boyfriend, I don't want to go out to dinner with you, and I don't want you to surprise me at work."
His face fell. Sofia couldn't look at him so she looked back toward the half open door to her office, wishing she could step away and close it so her conversation with Ian wouldn't be overheard. But that seemed like it would call too much attention to her, so she stayed where she was. When she turned back to Ian he had collected himself.
"Fair enough," he said. The greenish gold in his eyes glowed with admiration. "I know what it takes to make a dream come true." He glanced at her office door behind her back, then looked at her again. His eyes were smiling. "I also know that sometimes a person needs to let go a little, experience some of the beauty of the world." She started to say something, affronted that he would think her someone who didn't appreciate the beauty in the world. "Wait–" he held his finger up close to her mouth, shushing her. "If you change your mind, give me a call. I'd be happy to experience some of those things with you." Then, he turned around and walked away.
As she watched him retreat down the long hallway, the low mood she'd been in darkened even more. Her head was throbbing and she wished she could go home. She wished Ian would look back at her, but he didn't, and she did not call out to him to apologize or smooth things over. When he got to the end of the hallway, he hit the wide metal bar that opened the heavy doors with his palm and pushed it open. The sound echoed down the hall.
That's when she heard an unmistakable harrumph behind her.
Chapter Seventeen
Sofia whirled around to find Professor Shipley standing in the office doorway, watching her.
"Professor," she said, startled by his presence. She was mortified at the possibility that he had overheard her conversation with Ian.
"I have some questions on your newest attempt," he lifted the revised report she had printed.
With the air of a prisoner bravely facing the gallows, Sofia followed him back into the office. All of them ended up working late to appease Professor Shipley's expectations. The whole time, Sofia thought about how nice it might have been to go out to dinner with Ian.
By the time she made it to her flat that evening she was exhausted, starving, aching, and soaking wet. Her normal walk home had been plagued by the drizzling rain, which had added shivers and a stuffed up nose to her already throbbing headache.
"Great," she complained to nobody in the room as she opened the fridge to find it absolutely empty. She hadn't had time to go shopping when she got home from her weekend trip late last night. And today...she sighed...today had been long and awful. "Bath it is," she announced.
A half hour later she was feeling better. Sunk into a warm bath after popping a few ibuprofen for her headache, the pain was beginning to subside. She had fixed herself a cup of ginger tea that sat steaming on the edge of the tub. That and the hot bath had done the trick and she was finally warm again. Spanish guitar music floated through the small bathroom, emanating from her cell phone. She took a sip of her tea and noticed that her nail polish was chipping badly. She needed to get in for a manicure somewhere soon.
Suddenly her nose tickled furiously and she sat up in the tub. Unable to control herself, Sofia sneezed so powerfully that her bath water splashed over the edge. Her headache returned immediately.
"No, no, no, no..." she said under her breath. "I am not getting sick."
A knock sounded on the door of her flat.
After the initial surprise, she became indignant. Ian. Again. He was stalking her. Was she going to have to file a restraining order or something just to get some peace?
"Honestly," she muttered as she climbed out of the tub and threw on her bathrobe. From the time it took her to get out of the tub until she was reaching for the door handle, Sofia went from indignant to fuming. She unlocked the dead bolt and jerked the door open, not caring that she wasn't dressed. "What do you wa–" Sofia stopped short. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Hi, cuz!" Luna's voice was high pitched and excited.
Sofia stared in shock at Luna with a carry on bag at her feet.
"I've come for a visit!" Luna announced. She waited a beat, then asked, "Are you going to let me in?"
Sofia was overcome at the surprise. Luna had kept the whole thing under wraps despite usually sharing everything with her cousin. She had even enlisted Tawnyetta's help by getting exact directions to her flat.
"Can you believe she's pregnant?" Luna asked as she relayed her travel story to Sofia over her own mug of hot ginger tea.
"I know! It's so exciting!" Sofia was excited for Tawnyetta and Michael. She was also thrilled to have Luna here curled up on her couch in her little flat in London. It lifted her spirits in ways that little else could. "Are you going to spend any time going up to see them?"
"Scotland? Now?" Luna seemed surprised. Sofia nodded and sipped her tea. "No, no, this trip is just for you," Luna said as she reached out and patted Sofia's shoulder in a motherly way. "Everyone is anxious to know how you'
re settling in and I had some vacation time to spend, so I thought why not? Besides I'll see Tawnyetta when we go to her big fundraiser."
"By everyone do you mean my parents?" Sofia asked.
Luna smiled and nodded.
A wave of homesickness came over Sofia and she teared up. Her parents were fiercely protective and proud, but they were not the world traveling types. Thinking about how much she missed them, and they her, made her heartsick.
"Oh, don't be sad," Luna clucked at her like a hen with a chick. "They're fine. They're so proud of you, Sofia."
That sweet sentiment pushed her over the edge. Sofia broke down crying.
"What's going on with you?" Luna asked sweetly.
"I've had a horrible day. I got in trouble at work," Sofia tried to explain through her tears. Suddenly, she remembered another mistake she'd made. She grabbed Luna's arm with a gasp. "Oh, no!"
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot to give Tawnyetta's invitations to her fundraiser to the professors!" Sofia felt sick to her stomach at the failure.
Luna's brows pinched together. "That's not for a few months, right?"
Sofia's panic subsided slightly. "Yes, you're right. That's fine, isn't it? If I get them to the professors tomorrow?"
"Yes, I'm sure that's fine." Luna studied Sofia for a few moments before prodding her for more information. "What's really going?"
With the question, Luna triggered a release of all that Sofia had been struggling with since coming to London. Everything came out at once. Moving, adjusting to a new job, tension about her mistakes and feeling intimidated by Professor Shipley. Not to mention her feelings, be they what they were, about Ian. She dumped it all on poor little Luna, who cooed and cajoled and generally made her feel better. Finally, when Sofia was exhausted from emoting and a possible impending cold, and Luna was wiped out by jet lag, they went to bed. They shared the tiny double bed in Sofia's room like when they were little kids sleeping at their Abuela's house.