The enclave member sighed, gathering himself. “Kal? Trisk? As neither of you has signed with anyone, you’re allowed to remain on the floor, but you’re confined to your tables. Quen, you have your placement. Go wait in your room.”
Trisk snapped her head up, suddenly frightened. Quen would go through hell now, as Kal would blame him for everything she’d done. “Quen, I’m sorry,” she blurted.
Quen’s mood softened, and he managed a smile. “Me too,” he said. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as he gave her shoulder a squeeze, but what she wanted was for him to take her in his arms and tell her nothing would change between them. “I’ve dealt with worse. I’m proud of you, Trisk. You’re going to do well. I know it.”
He was slipping away from her, and she could do nothing. “Quen . . .”
He looked back once, and then he was gone, the colorful dresses hiding him as the band started up again. The enclave dignitary had vanished as well, and people began to disperse.
Trisk’s eyes rose to find Kal standing with his parents. His father was trying to straighten Kal’s swollen nose, and his mother was attempting to distract the NASA representative from the shattered remains of the hall’s protection.
No one was venturing across the pile of crystal, and Trisk winced when her father’s tall form stumbled to a halt at the fringes, hesitating briefly as he found her eyes and then turned to make his way around it. “The Goddess protect me,” she whispered, nudging a stray crystal out of her way and collapsing in her interview chair. There was no way to make this look good.
“Trisk? Tell me this wasn’t you,” her father said as he worked his way into her booth.
A surge of self-pity rose, and she blinked fast, refusing to cry. “Quen signed with the Kalamacks,” she said, voice cracking.
Her father’s breath came in, but then he exhaled with a knowing, forgiving sound, the shattered chandelier and rising argument at the Kalamack booth suddenly making sense. “I’m sorry,” he said, his hand warm on her shoulder. “I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”
His quick understanding made her feel worse. “I wish he’d know what he’s doing with me.”
Her father dropped to a knee before her and took her into a hug. Her throat closed, and it was as if she were twelve again as he tried to show her all was not lost, that something good would come from it. “Have you made a choice?” he asked gently.
She knew he wanted her to take a position and move forward, but accepting anything other than what she’d worked for felt like failure. His arms still around her, she shook her head.
Slowly his grip fell away. He stood, silent as a special crew began to sweep the crystal into shipping boxes for off-site decontamination. “I’ll get us some coffee,” he finally said. “You’ll be okay for a moment?”
She nodded, knowing it wasn’t coffee he was after, but the chance there might be someone who owed him a favor. Her breath rattled as she exhaled. There were no more favors to be had. He had spent them all getting her this far. She could probably be excused for the effrontery of trying to make it in a man’s field if she looked like their ideal, her efforts excused by her probable goal of finding a better husband. But she didn’t even have that.
He was gone when she looked up.
Numb, she sat in her chair as the conference took on its normal patter and flow, everyone seeing her but no one making eye contact. “You can’t,” a plaintive voice rang out, and she watched as the NASA rep walked away, Kal’s mother following fast, her steps short and heels clicking. Kal met her gaze with a murderous intent, jumping when his father picked up one of his contracts and shoved it at him.
“Sign it,” the older man demanded. “Before they all withdraw their offers.”
“Father,” Kal complained, clearly not liking that Trisk was seeing this.
“Now!” his father exclaimed. “Sa’han Ulbrine was right. You showed a disturbing lack of control and commonsense over a woman you will never see after tonight. Sign.”
Motions stiff, Kal took the pen and signed the paper. His father all but jerked it out from under him. “Go wait in your rooms,” the tall man said coldly, then strode away to register the contract before midnight, when the gala would be over.
Trisk couldn’t help herself, and she made a mocking face at Kal across the aisle.
Kal’s eyes narrowed. “You cost me my dream job,” he said, his melodious voice clear over the surrounding conversations.
“You went out of your way to hurt me,” she said coldly.
He stood to leave, glancing over his booth as if only now seeing it as the vain display it was. Silent, he walked away. A cluster of young women flitted behind him, ignored.