“It will be fun, I promise. I’ve managed to squeeze in some things to keep you entertained beyond the conference.” Nerves fluttered in Sylvie’s stomach. “But first, I need to get my speech over with.”
“You have nothing to worry about. You know your subject inside out. And you’re a natural public speaker; people follow your every word.”
“That may be so. But it doesn’t mean I love every moment.” Sylvie had overprepared. She’d rewritten the paper so many times she’d lost count. And she’d practiced her opening in the mirror for two hours last night.
“Then why put yourself through it?” Isa asked.
Sylvie had churned over that question all night. Because she’d never get that promotion if the board didn’t take her work seriously. “I need the kudos.”
“But you do this kind of stuff in your sleep. What’s really eating at you?” Isa asked as they made their way to the line of taxis.
Sylvie shrugged. “The pressure’s getting to me. There was a time when I would turn up, give a talk on my latest topic of interest, and think nothing more of it. Now it feels like my very position depends on how many stars the audience gives me in their feedback.”
“Damn those surveys.” Isa groaned. “They should measure us by how many students keep coming to our lectures. We’re outranking all the old fucks by three-fold this semester.”
“True. And we cost a third as much, no doubt.” Sylvie gazed out of the window as the streets of Paris sped by. Nothing had changed since her last visit almost a year ago. The same drab lines of shops suddenly burst into a fit of sophistication. Its people hurried along, draped in style and confidence. Even the sky’s shade of steel dripped with class.
“Do you miss it?” Isa asked.
“A little.” Sylvie’s lips twitched. “Less these days.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Isa turned to face her in the back seat. “Anything to do with our recent addition at the faculty? A taste of the USA?”
Sylvie stared. “Must you tease me for the whole trip?”
“I can’t help but be intrigued. Surely you don’t hold that against me.”
“I don’t.” Sylvie said.
“So how was it?” Isa wiggled her eyebrows.
“Lovely. Ade’s family is a delight to be around. One of her fathers is a little intense, but he means well.”
“I can’t believe you’ve met the parents. Serious business.”
“Don’t make more of it than it is. If your parents were in town, I’d meet them too.” Sylvie hoped the brush-off would work. Deep down, she’d loved hearing about Ade’s roots and seeing a different part of her.
“You can kid yourself all you like. I know that look.”
“We’re here,” Sylvie said, grateful for the chance to change the subject. “Let’s check in before we head out somewhere for dinner.”
“Of course.”
“I bombed. You know it. I know it.” Sylvie sank further into the pit ofher self-pity with every step.
“You didn’t bomb.” Isa sped up to keep pace as they marched along the bank of the Seine.
Sylvie pulled her scarf tighter, annoyed that winter had started to show its face. Not that she’d admit it, but there was something to be said about the mild temperatures of the south.
“I witnessed the entire thing. You could hear a pin drop while you were speaking.” Isa nudged her elbow.
“It wasn’t the speech. It was the questions.” Sylvie stomped her heel.
“You’ve got to admit; it was a fair question from the crowd. Feminism really has moved on since the days of Woolf and de Beauvoir.”
“You think I don’t know that? That’s the entire premise of my book. I’ve spent my professional life explaining this.” Sylvie put her head in her hands. “Let’s get on the boat.”
The water taxi approached the dock, and they joined the back of the queue.
