Chapter 8

When I have the chance, I like to get out and about. I like hiking, climbing, sailing - anything that gets me outside, uses my muscles and preferably also my brain.

But who has the time these days? So instead I find myself at the gym, on a crosstrainer or a rowing machine or in a spin class (I love cycling but dear God I hate spin classes). I keep meaning to join the university's climbing society or somesuch but I never get around to it. And bloody Keith 'won' our little yacht in the divorce.

At least it was quiet - I tended to go early in the morning before classes started, but late night was also good. And tonight, I had plenty of excess energy to burn. Popping my earbuds in, I cued up some music and climbed on the crosstrainer for a good hard session of frustration release.

My mind wandered, as usual, as I worked, and I found myself thinking back over my brief conversation with Alex Webb. I hadn't meant to share quite as much as I had with her, but I had downed a few drinks before escaping from my date and I suppose my tongue was a little looser than usual. At least she hadn't seemed quite as awkward as she had during our first few meetings - indeed, maybe it was the alcohol talking but I had actually enjoyed my 'chat' with her.

I was at the gym less than an hour - I'm a big fan of the 'little and often' school of exercise - and was interested to see that the light was still on in Webb's office as I passed back the same way after I left, headed for the nearest big street where I could grab a taxi home.

 

She wasn't in when I came back the next morning, but then, barely anybody else was. I worked steadily through the morning and then went to lecture just after lunch; it was only once I returned with a salad from the food hall that I saw Dr Webb, mostly because she was sitting in my office.

"Dr Webb," I remarked, trying to hide my surprise. "You're early."

Favouring me with a bright smile that was, refreshingly, a little less nervous than that of the previous day, Webb nodded and shrugged good naturedly. "What can I say. I'm keen. Did you get my emails okay?"

"Ah, yes. I did. All three of them." Sitting down, I arranged my food on my desk, then rummaged through the top drawer for the printouts I had made, along with my notes. "Do you mind if I eat while we discuss?"

"Oh, um, not at all," my assistant said with a fervent shake of her head. "Go ahead."

Unpacking my salad (I hated the amount of waste it created, but had little choice on busy days like today), I gestured to her with my fork. "Why don't you talk me through your main points to make sure we're on the same page?"

"Okay, so." Webb cleared her throat, and flipped through a couple of pages on her notebook, though I had a feeling this was more to gather the thoughts in her head than those on the page. "I think the strongest projects are the two on [something biodiverse] and the one on [some other biodiverse things]. The others are excellent sources for original research," she hastened to add, "but I don't think they lend themselves as well to group study."

I nodded; this was more or less what I had decided, but it was good to see we were in agreement. "Fair enough. So let's look at those two more closely," I told her, spearing a tomato on my fork. "See if we can pick one for our hapless interns to chew through."

Alex chuckled at this, her little grin showing off a pair of dimples. I decided that it was definitely a good sign that she was smiling more today, even if it was a little nervous. Perhaps our evening chat had been a good icebreaker. After all, Keira and I had been friends, once.

We began to discuss the proposals in more detail; I encouraged Alex to do most of the talking, while I ate my lunch and offered suggestions. I was pleased to find her both intelligent and creative, and not afraid of taking recommendations and adapting them to fit with existing ideas.

By the end of the meeting I was very much encouraged by my new assistant - we'd managed to find our way to first-name terms, and she was actually arguing with me, both very good things in my book. Having spent the first few days of her employment wondering quite why she was here I was now rather looking forward to working with Dr Alexandra Webb, and I told her as such (well, the latter part of the sentiment at least) as she was gathering her things to go.

I got another of those dimpled smiles and a suddenly-shy-again thank you for my trouble, although it was a little different from her previous nervousness.

"You too, Pr- Kathryn," she offered in reply. "I mean, well, obviously - I'm sure anyone in the field would be excited to work with you."

"Well. Just as well you managed to snag it first," I told her with a smirk.

"It seems so."

 

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