Yet I wasn’t a monster.
So the cookies were a peace offering. Fiona had said that coconut was his favorite. Therefore, macaroons.
Wanting to take advantage of the weather, I was dressed more casually than my typical pencil skirts and button-down Oxfords, wearing instead my favorite summer dress and sandals. I’d also packed shorts and a tank top for my afternoon appointment, as per the advice of Jared, my soon-to-be cuddler.
I made it to the university earlier than expected, but that was no matter. Matt had dutifully texted me directions to his office instead of a laboratory. Nearly there, a man came around the corner and my steps faltered because I recognized him. I’d know him anywhere, even though we’d never met.
Seeing my expression, his steps slowed, his eyes widened, and he glanced behind him, as though searching the hall for danger.
“It’s you.”
“It’s me?” the tall bearded man asked, smiling warily, like he couldn’t make up his mind whether or not to flee. “Who is me?”
“You’re Derek.” I closed the distance between us and was unsurprised to find his eyes were dove gray.
“That’s right. I am.” He nodded congenially, with artless friendliness. “And are you here to rescue me?”
“What?” I laughed, completely charmed.
Two dimples—mostly hidden by his beard, but too deep to be completely obscured—bracketed his mouth. “You have that look about you.” His voice deepened as his gaze traveled over my face.
“What look?”
“A woman on a crusade.”
“Marie.” The sound of my name pulled my attention away from delightful Derek. Matt stood just outside an office, glancing between us with a mild frown on his features. He was wearing dark jeans, Converse, and a Battlestar Galactica T-shirt. His hair was askew, like sticking up at all angles, and resembled an accidental Mohawk. “What took you so long?”
I blinked once, surprised by the question more than his impatient tone. “I’m early.”
“I see you’ve met Dr. Merek, the other despicable scientist preying on the women of Chicago.”
Derek gave me a look that was part sheepish, but mostly whatcha-gonna-do, amiright? and whispered conspiratorially, “Except women actually enjoy it when I prey on them.”
I compared the two men; I couldn’t help it. Where Matt dressed like a graduate student—a dichotomy of both jock and nerd—Derek looked every bit the role of a college professor. Dr. Merek wore dark gray dress pants and a slate dress shirt, rolled up to his forearms, the top button undone, revealing a black undershirt. He was softer in the middle than Matt, as though he spent most of his time sitting at a desk, using his mind. His beard was very becoming, giving him an aura of experience and wisdom.
And it wasn’t just that. He had a stillness about him, a calm certainty that Matt didn’t possess. Derek spoke quietly, but not softly, as though he knew he didn’t need to be loud to make a point, secure in the knowledge of his own ability and place in the world.
I liked him.
Matt mumbled something I couldn’t quite catch, glaring at his colleague while reaching for my elbow and pulling me away. He appeared to be agitated, and I could guess why. I imagined he didn’t like being strong-armed into sharing his data.
Deciding the time had come for my peace offering, I went to reach into my bag. “Here, I brought—”
“You look great,” Matt said. But it was like an accusation, effectively stunning me.
I looked to him, finding his eyebrows pinched in a frown, his jaw ticking, his glare moving down and then up my body. “Where are you going? Why are you dressed like this? Do you have a date?”
“No,” I responded irritably. “I’m dressed like this because it’s almost summer and it’s gorgeous outside.”
A non-committal sound rumbled from his chest and his eyes narrowed. “Have you been dating?”
An incredulous and involuntary laugh escaped my throat. I decided to ignore his question. He was probably just trying to get a rise out of me. I didn’t have time for his antics.
Disentangling my arm from his grip, I reached into my bag and pulled out the macaroons, holding them between us. “Here. These are for you.”
He glanced at the white bakery box, his frown even more severe than before. He didn’t take the box. “What’s in there?”
The look of suspicion made me smile in spite of myself. “Cookies.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“I made them.”
His expression cleared and he snatched the box from my hands. “You did? What kind?”
“Macaroons.”
“Coconut!” He’d ripped open the box with impressive speed, his eyes widening with what looked like elation. “Come to me,” he said reverently to the cookies.
“I hate coconut,” Derek said conversationally, coming to stand next to me.
“She didn’t bring them for you, did she?” Matt said, his head doing an unexpected, sassy bobbing movement.
I rolled my lips between my teeth, breathing through my nose while my eyes bounced between the two men.
“Maybe she will, next time.” Derek grinned at me. “I like chocolate.”
Matt’s eyes cut to mine. “Are you making a mental note? You look like you’re making a mental note. Don’t. Don’t make a mental note. Don’t bring him cookies.”
“Gentlemen.” I pasted on my best professional smile. “I will be happy to bring cookies, to you both, but first I need to see what you’ve been working on.”
“Fine.” Matt slid an exasperated glance at his colleague, and then turned, marching into his office. “Let me show you. Come. Sit.”
I followed, placing my bag on the floor by the door, glancing around his office as I did so. It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small either. A window overlooking a green area spanned the length of one wall. His desk was covered in printed data tables, papers with handwritten notes, and random machine parts. Upon closer inspection, the notes looked like code.
Along the back wall, he had a large corkboard with a poster of what looked like—at first glance—a human brain. I stepped closer to study it and realized it wasn’t human at all.
“Uh,” he stepped around me, removing the schematic from the board. “That’s not—that’s off limits.”
“What is it?” I peered between him and the poster he was rolling.
“It’s something I’m working on for my old employer.”
“Gamble?” I guessed, remembering Fiona mentioning his work there.
He nodded absentmindedly.
Gamble was an interesting hybrid company, with its hands in both pharmaceutical and tech. Medical devices that interacted directly with the human brain were their specialty and I remembered reading an article on early clinical trials for robotic implants for ears and eyes.
Based in Palo Alto, CA, Gamble had been leveraging their proximity to the tech giants in order to form partnerships in areas of shared interests—like bioprosthetics—therefore leveraging computing power.