“I have to say, Daphne…” She pauses, as my heart continues to pound. “It’s unusual for us to see a student who’s performing so well transfer from an advanced program like the one at Harkness to a state school. Not that we aren’t proud of the work we do here. But it’s not quite as glitzy or international. I did wonder why.”
Right. I’d known this question was coming. And I’m prepared. “Maybe I’m not as enamored with glitzy or international as I used to be.” That’s certainly true. But the embellishments I offer next are not. “My whole family is here in Vermont. We have a farm, and several businesses. My brother started a family. A lot has happened since I decided at seventeen that I needed to be somewhere else.”
She smiles, which is how I know I’ve been convincing. “There’s a lot to love about Vermont. I’ve tried to keep our focus as local as possible. Some of the enviro-agricultural topics may be familiar to you.”
“Arsenic. Nitrogen runoff. Things like that?”
“Exactly like that,” she says. “And my next grant application concerns air quality. I’ll fill you in more in September.”
“I can’t wait.” I really do live for this stuff. I plan to do excellent work here. Dr. Drummond will not regret taking me on. And this job will make my grad school applications look worthy.
“All right, Daphne. We’ll talk more soon. This summer you and Karim will help Jenn tidy up some data and set up some research queries, okay? And this fall we’ll get on to new research.”
“Great. I’m happy to help,” I say. We stand, and I shake her hand with a firm grip.
This is going to work. It has to.
Okay, these research journals are really heavy. I lug them awkwardly back to the truck, where Rickie is leaning against the driver’s side door, reading a book.
In German. That’s unexpected.
As usual, I drink in the sight of him. Today he’s wearing another silky T-shirt, tucked into a pair of cut-off army surplus pants. On his feet are suede ankle boots. They’re not work boots. They look vintage. And there’s an earring in his left ear. It’s a very small hoop, which shouldn’t look masculine, but it does anyway.
He closes the book as I approach, and tosses it through the open window, into the vehicle. “Ready to go? Looks like somebody hit the library pretty hard.” He hurries toward me, hands outstretched, as if to help me.
“New department. I have to catch up,” I explain, hoisting the books up a little further in my arms. I don’t want his help. But one traitorous volume slips out of the stack and hits the pavement with a loud smack.
Rickie picks it up without comment. He doesn’t try to wrestle the other journals out of my arms, either. He just goes back to the truck and climbs in, settling both our books on the seat behind him.
Somehow I make it onto the passenger seat without dropping anything else. “How was your class?” It’s a feeble attempt at polite conversation.
“Great. Fine. I like school, and I’m a shitty farmer, so it was like a vacation for me. How was the new job?”
“Good,” I say quickly. “I mean—new jobs are hard. I have a lot of reading to do.” I smooth a hand over the journal on top of the stack, where an article about nursing mothers on food stamps is yelling my name.
“All right. I’ll leave you alone to read,” he says, cranking the engine. “So long as we can stop for ice cream.”
I’d forgotten about that. But I like ice cream as much as the next girl. “Sure. There’s a place just off exit 6B.”
“Coolio. I’ll poke you when we get there.” He turns to give me a sexy grin.
I feel the heat of that smile. It lands in the center of my chest. This is bad bad bad. So I look away. I flip open the cover of the journal and try to focus on the table of contents.
Rickie probably thinks I’m a bitch. And maybe it’s even true. But I cannot get lost in another man’s smile. Been there. Done that. Not going back.
I read all the way to the highway exit, but I only get halfway through the first article. It’s dense and full of statistical analysis that’s over my head.
By the time Rickie rolls down the exit ramp, I feel the onset of a full-blown case of imposter syndrome. Dr. Drummond is expecting