GABRIEL #5
"And then," he goes on, "introducing a compound. You don’t just consider whether it binds. You evaluate binding affinity across multiple sites, predict off-target interactions, estimate reaction rates under different conditions."
He pauses briefly, like he’s deciding how much to simplify.
"While accounting for how that compound is metabolized," he adds. "How it’s altered by enzymes, what intermediates form, whether those intermediates are stable, toxic, or reactive."
I stare at him. "You do all that in your head?"
"Yes."
Wow, it sounds so simple… when he says it, but I know it really isn’t. He’s called a genius for a reason.
Blue stands up, his face neutral, his thoughts clearly already elsewhere as he picks up his tablet.
"I have a meeting in a few minutes. It usually happens every other day, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."
"With upper management?"
"Yes."
"Is it at least as interesting as higher mathematics?" I ask somewhat melancholically.
Blue lets out an amused huff.
"Debatable. We review reports from the lab and the research department, go through brief presentations of results, project progress, and alerts about issues in research or production. It’ll take about two to three hours, but," he makes a small, casual gesture with his hand, "if you get bored standing by the door, you can come inside and listen. "
I get up as well and ask hesitantly, "Aren’t those some kind of internal confidential matters?"
"They are internal confidential matters, but I have a strange feeling you’re not an industrial spy," he says, his tone almost roguish.
I make a face. "I’ll just put on my headphones and connect to my classes anyway. It’s assembly language programming today, I won’t be eavesdropping."
Blue nods and we head out together.
On the way, I pull on my black mesh mask, and we go down two floors. When we’re alone in the elevator, I catch a brief glance from him, and I get the sense that something subtle shifted after our little math clash.
I think he notices my sour mood because he suddenly speaks.
"Gabriel, what you did was very impressive. You have an exceptional talent for mathematics. I wouldn’t want you to walk away from this thinking you performed poorly. None of my math professors could have handled that. You’re a natural prodigy, and that’s rare."
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. I wasn’t expecting that kind of summary of my performance. I thought I had come off as a bit of a vain show-off in his eyes, and he punctured that inflated balloon of my ego.
"Thanks," I murmur. "It’s hard to stand out… next to you."
"You stood out regardless, Gabriel," he insists, his tone so amazingly certain, and my cheeks flush.
It makes me feel strangely warm, but I firmly resist and shake off the faint pink cloud settling over me.
When we step out of the elevator, I don’t see any of Blue’s bodyguards, and the security office lights are off, which surprises me.
"Where are the other guards?"
Blue stops by the conference room door.
"I sent them on leave. I want to see how you handle things on your own. So far, so good."
He says it so calmly, so lightly, that I almost can’t process it.
"Seriously? But why? All of them, and now it’s just me?"
"Yes. All the permanent ones."
"Твою мать![6] You’ve completely lost your mind!"
A faintly ironic expression crosses Blue’s face. "I have confidence in your abilities."
"Mr. Lowen! You’re overestimating me. This is insane! Five seconds, that’s all I can do! What if we end up in a situation where an action takes longer than that?"
He lets out a small, impatient huff.
"I had four guards employed full-time and another four on a rapid contract from an external firm.
I let go only the permanent ones, but I still have access to those from the external firm if needed.
I think I can put the money they were making to better use.
For example, allocate it to you. All their salaries. "
My jaw drops.
The elevator doors open and a group of men in suits steps out, and I immediately realize they’re his senior managers. They came here from other Malden branches. There’s no chance to comment further.
Blue and I enter the conference room.
There’s a massive oval table. Blue takes a seat on one side, and the men settle along the curve.
Luckily, there’s an open spot next to Simon, who is already sitting slightly to the right, against the wall behind Blue, in his usual brown suit, adjusting his glasses from time to time.
I sit down beside him. He gives me a curious look, but aside from a brief ‘good morning’, he says nothing. He’s holding a tablet with notes and a calendar open.
Since my class is about to start, I connect and switch to headphones, though in the corner of my vision I can still see Blue’s small frame, his profile, his delicate fingers moving across the tablet.
And just like that, the meeting begins.
◆◆◆
The next few days I spend with Blue don’t differ much from the previous one, except that this week there are no more outside meetings. All contractors and clients come directly to his office, which is located behind the first door to the left of the large company logo.
So that’s where I spend my time, listening to how Blue handles people. His approach is extremely efficient and strict, fast, direct, case closed, no dragging things out, maximum results in minimum time.
There are only two breaks, both for meals, which are delivered for Blue and me. We sit down together. The food is excellent, I eat with enthusiasm, and I regularly compliment his father’s kitchen, which Blue acknowledges with a raised brow and a nod, nothing more.
Every evening, around nine, Simon comes in one last time, and they go over the day again, discuss the next one, and put together a plan.
After Simon leaves, Blue and I return to the penthouse alone.
There’s something strangely pleasant about it when all his employees disappear and it’s just me left with him, creating a faint, unfamiliar sense of intimacy. Or maybe I’m just imagining it.
Since our small mathematical challenge, my perception of Blue has shifted.
I see him now as someone truly exceptional, even more worthy of protection.
Minds of his caliber don’t appear every day.
They’re like rare gems. Sure, my ego took a slight hit when I realized I can’t think on that level of abstraction, but I’m grounded enough to appreciate someone else’s talent without turning bitter or trying to diminish it just to feel better.
When we sit down to dinner and I see him leaning over his plate, still immersed in company matters, emails, voice messages, constantly glancing at his tablet, I suddenly ask,
"Has your life always looked like this? Work from eight in the morning to nine at night, short breaks for meals and swimming, then going back home where… nobody’s waiting?"
Damn. That came out strong. Pretty invasive.
Blue lifts his eyes from a plate of steamed mussels in white wine with garlic and parsley, served in an aromatic broth.
I look into his sapphire irises and sigh.
"Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about this.
It’s none of my business, but it comes from my own perspective on life.
I’m… very family-oriented, you know? I’ve never been able to imagine a life without someone by my side.
I always lived with my brother Marlow or one of my cousins who went to the same college.
I trained with my friend Archer or my cousin Veyron.
I preferred company over being alone… that’s when depression would hit me. I need contact with people."
Blue keeps watching me, then says slowly,
"You see… other people can’t fill the emptiness within us, Gabriel. I have my work and my passion, which happen to be the same thing. You could say my work is my life partner, and it has always been enough."
I study him, his dark navy hair, soft, silky strands falling to his shoulders, his face so pale and delicate…
He rarely smiles, and when he does, it’s more of a smirk. Is it really possible to live like that, just work and nothing else?
"I don’t know how you handle it," I murmur. "I suffered when I had no one. Even physical touch has always mattered to me. In a way, I got it through training, through sparring with another person. It’s something that’s always been important to me. Touch."
"People are full of bacteria and viruses. I don’t need to deal with that," Blue says, half ironic, half serious.
I raise my brows slightly. "Right, I remember. I once read that you’re a germaphobe, which is strange considering you know all kinds of medicine. You could cure everything," I add a little sarcastically.
"Perhaps, but why risk it? By the way, the word ‘germaphobe’ has a dismissive tone. People use it to label someone as a freak. Meanwhile, during a single handshake, you can transfer tens of millions of bacteria, especially if someone touched a phone or a doorknob earlier. That’s a scientific fact."
"Yeah… I guess. I’ve noticed you don’t shake hands. You never even shook mine, even though we entered into a marriage contract," I say slowly, my eyes drifting to his slender pale hand with thin fingers.
"Correct. I don’t acknowledge that custom."
I sigh.
"Wow. We’re such opposites, you and me. I crave touch, and you desperately avoid it."
Blue averts his gaze, staring toward the window.
"I can’t always avoid it, but I minimize it."
"But that also means no sex, no kissing, no cuddling…" I say in a peculiar tone, almost unlike my regular voice.
"A ten-second kiss involves the exchange of around eighty million bacteria."
I blink, dumbfounded. "When you put it like that, it sounds awful. But don’t we have natural immunity? If we didn’t, sex would kill us…"
Blue looks at me for a moment, then says, "Sometimes it does. STDs used to kill millions." He narrows his eyes. "I notice you bring up sex quite often. There are other things in life that matter more."
"Really? There are?" I reply with a faintly ironic smile. "Didn’t know that."