she was eating only to settle her nerves, and she wasn’t sure why she was nervous.
She had done formal presentations all the time when she worked at the university, some of them—not many—impromptu. And she knew the thermal-conversion process backward and forward. It had fascinated her enough that she insisted on knowing every aspect. She could do this tour. So what was bothering her? How unexpected and sudden it was or the fact that Lansik had chosen her above the others?
Sabrina had met the CEO of EchoEnergy, William Sidel, only once. Well, she hadn’t actually met him. O’Hearn had pointed him out to her at one of their employee-appreciation events. Sidel had been patting a lot of backs and making everyone laugh, but he never seemed to make his way over to the group of scientists. O’Hearn claimed it wasn’t personal, but simply that he avoided them so he didn’t have to pretend to know what they were talking about. According to O’Hearn, William Sidel was an incredible entrepreneur when it came to getting investors and lobbying the government, but the man had no idea of, or interest in, the day-to-day process.
Sabrina stopped at the lab to stow her briefcase, almost making her late. Now, as she hurried to Reactor #1 to meet the man who had recently made the covers of Forbes, Time and Discover magazines, Sabrina wondered if she should have also stopped at a restroom. At least to check for food in her teeth, wash her hands, maybe give her hair a swipe. Instead, she pushed a strand behind her ear.
She was nonchalant about her appearance—too nonchalant her mother had always complained. She glanced down at herself: the lab coat was bright white and pressed, even if the pockets sagged a little from her constantly putting her hands in them. Her black trousers were part of her standard wardrobe. There were six other pairs, exactly the same, back in her bedroom closet. Years ago Sabrina resigned herself to the fact that she had no fashion sense. Her artistic and sometimes flamboyant mother had confirmed it, going a step further and declaring Sabrina “fashion retarded.” To which Sabrina usually responded, in her own defense, that if Albert Einstein could wear the same outfit every single day, then so could she.
Even her jewelry she kept to a minimum—classic but simple: an eighteen-karat gold rope chain that had belonged to her mother and a Movado watch her father had given her when she made tenure. As she approached Reactor #1 Sabrina decided that had she known about the tour this morning she still wouldn’t have changed a single thing about her appearance or herself.
She’d do just fine and she stuffed her hands, sweaty palms and all, into her lab-coat pockets.
6
EchoEnergy
Sabrina kept thinking there had to be some mistake. She was the last person on their team whom Dwight Lansik would choose to lead in his absence. Not for lack of ability or experience, but simply because she had been the last hire. She knew the man had a rather strong opinion about seniority, with disloyalty being the only thing that could uproot it. Taking that into consideration, O’Hearn would be the next in line, and then Anna. When Sabrina told the others about being assigned as tour guide, she could see the question in their eyes, too. Though she couldn’t imagine any of them would really want the assignment. If it was up to her, she’d gladly pass.
Anna was the only one who dared to ask out loud, “Mr. Sidel requested you to give the tour?” She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows to emphasize that she was not pleased. She was always doing that, using facial expressions to say what she really thought.
Pasha had commented once that he saw a physical resemblance between Sabrina and Anna, but Sabrina failed—or perhaps refused—to see anything the two might have in common. Sabrina knew the woman was several years her junior and yet Anna Copello had a way of making her feel like she was one of Anna’s problem
She had done formal presentations all the time when she worked at the university, some of them—not many—impromptu. And she knew the thermal-conversion process backward and forward. It had fascinated her enough that she insisted on knowing every aspect. She could do this tour. So what was bothering her? How unexpected and sudden it was or the fact that Lansik had chosen her above the others?
Sabrina had met the CEO of EchoEnergy, William Sidel, only once. Well, she hadn’t actually met him. O’Hearn had pointed him out to her at one of their employee-appreciation events. Sidel had been patting a lot of backs and making everyone laugh, but he never seemed to make his way over to the group of scientists. O’Hearn claimed it wasn’t personal, but simply that he avoided them so he didn’t have to pretend to know what they were talking about. According to O’Hearn, William Sidel was an incredible entrepreneur when it came to getting investors and lobbying the government, but the man had no idea of, or interest in, the day-to-day process.
Sabrina stopped at the lab to stow her briefcase, almost making her late. Now, as she hurried to Reactor #1 to meet the man who had recently made the covers of Forbes, Time and Discover magazines, Sabrina wondered if she should have also stopped at a restroom. At least to check for food in her teeth, wash her hands, maybe give her hair a swipe. Instead, she pushed a strand behind her ear.
She was nonchalant about her appearance—too nonchalant her mother had always complained. She glanced down at herself: the lab coat was bright white and pressed, even if the pockets sagged a little from her constantly putting her hands in them. Her black trousers were part of her standard wardrobe. There were six other pairs, exactly the same, back in her bedroom closet. Years ago Sabrina resigned herself to the fact that she had no fashion sense. Her artistic and sometimes flamboyant mother had confirmed it, going a step further and declaring Sabrina “fashion retarded.” To which Sabrina usually responded, in her own defense, that if Albert Einstein could wear the same outfit every single day, then so could she.
Even her jewelry she kept to a minimum—classic but simple: an eighteen-karat gold rope chain that had belonged to her mother and a Movado watch her father had given her when she made tenure. As she approached Reactor #1 Sabrina decided that had she known about the tour this morning she still wouldn’t have changed a single thing about her appearance or herself.
She’d do just fine and she stuffed her hands, sweaty palms and all, into her lab-coat pockets.
6
EchoEnergy
Sabrina kept thinking there had to be some mistake. She was the last person on their team whom Dwight Lansik would choose to lead in his absence. Not for lack of ability or experience, but simply because she had been the last hire. She knew the man had a rather strong opinion about seniority, with disloyalty being the only thing that could uproot it. Taking that into consideration, O’Hearn would be the next in line, and then Anna. When Sabrina told the others about being assigned as tour guide, she could see the question in their eyes, too. Though she couldn’t imagine any of them would really want the assignment. If it was up to her, she’d gladly pass.
Anna was the only one who dared to ask out loud, “Mr. Sidel requested you to give the tour?” She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows to emphasize that she was not pleased. She was always doing that, using facial expressions to say what she really thought.
Pasha had commented once that he saw a physical resemblance between Sabrina and Anna, but Sabrina failed—or perhaps refused—to see anything the two might have in common. Sabrina knew the woman was several years her junior and yet Anna Copello had a way of making her feel like she was one of Anna’s problem
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