Chapter 14
VIVIENNE
I’m teetering on the edge of insanity—for more than one reason.
The first, and most obvious trigger, is the looming knowledge that Nate is likely to show up at my place of work. The second, and easily, the most unfortunate, is the broken glass pipette that’s embedded itself in my wet, silica-packed column.
With the crude product already loaded and the deep divot in the yellow band, this could only mean one thing—this separation is about to be an absolute disaster.
I let out an exasperated sigh with my gloved hands braced against the fume hood.
For once, my mind is blank.
I’m watching the clear solvent drip from the tip of the column and into its beaker when the voice I least want to hear cuts in.
“Vivienne is messing up her column again,” Arjun says from somewhere behind me. “Are we surprised?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath in.
"If you don’t give it attention, people move on," my parents always said. But Arjun never fails to be the exception to the rule.
“Next time, just ask for help.” He pats my shoulder in a faux gesture of reassurance before walking away.
My head bows down from the exhaustion, truly wondering what I’ve done to the guy to be treated this way.
“Why the hell is he talking to you like that?”
I jump back at the shock of that familiar harsh voice, hand over my heart as my eyes clash with a pair of green ones.
Jaw clenched. Lips pressed into a hard line. Brows drawn together tightly. Nate looks pissed as his gaze averts to a spot behind me, which just so happens to be the location of Arjun’s fume hood.
“Don’t worry about it,” I try to reassure Nate with a smile.
Regardless of how fake it might be, I do my best to hold it.
The last thing I need is more attention drawn to the situation. Right now, all I’d like to do is eat the stress away—and conveniently, there happens to be a chocolate bar on my desk calling my name.
Nate’s eyes finally settle back on me, tracing over my face. And while I hope he can’t see me unraveling, he doesn’t miss the way I flinch when that same loud voice cuts through the air.
“If it isn’t Nate Archer.” Arjun’s obnoxious voice grows louder as he approaches, stopping to the side of us. “Arjun Simit. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I have to say, I’m a huge fan of your work.”
He darts his hand toward Nate, but it’s never reciprocated. The green-eyed man, boring into my soul, ignores him completely, his attention fixed solely on me.
“I suppose it’s nice meeting you as well.”
There’s a darkness to his voice—low and rough. It’s enough to make anyone who doesn’t know Nate Archer personally run. But like always, Arjun is the exception.
“May I ask what it is you’re doing here?
” Arjun’s face lights up in equal parts surprise and delight.
“I mean, I’m glad to have met such a legend in the field, but I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than to visit this dusty, old chemistry lab.
” He gives a casual, dismissive flick of his hand, as if it’ll make him look humble.
“Meeting up with my fiancée,” Nate replies dryly. “But I don’t see how that concerns you.”
Whatever expression he wears is enough to make my bitch of a lab mate trip over his words.
“My bad, man,” Arjun answers with his hands up in defense as he starts walking backward. “I didn’t mean to upset you—just trying to make friendly small talk.”
The moment that bastard is out of sight, I clamp onto Nate’s arm and haul him outside the lab.
I glance in either direction of the locker-lined hallway before deeming it too busy for the confrontation we’re about to have. I settle on the next best thing I can find—the janitor’s closet.
“What was that all about?” I hiss when I lock us inside. “And what are you doing here in the first place?”
Nate angles the box in his hand, drawing my eyes to it.
Black, wrapped in a pretty white bow, with their signature gold lettering spelling out La Brioche. There’s a neon-pink sticky note stuck to the top, and my heart aches at the words written—and the way I treated him.
My sincerest apologies for standing you up. It’ll never make up for the time you lost, but hopefully this is enough to get me back on your good side.
- Your utterly obsessed fiancé, Nate
“I’m here to apologize for what went down yesterday.”
“Thank you so much for this.” Genuine gratitude threads through my voice as I lift my gaze to catch his softening. “I—You caught me at a bad moment. That’s all.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles weakly before the hard set of his jaw reappears. “But tell me why that man was talking to you like that, Vivienne. Why did he think it acceptable to be nice to me and a bitch to you?”
I shut my eyes, hating the way he’s confirming the thoughts I’ve had for so long.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” he asks in bewilderment. When I don’t answer, his anger rises. “Has he always been like this? Have you reported any of this to your PI?”
I turn away, refusing to meet his gaze. “Of course not.”
“How come?” His tone borders on disbelief.
“Look, I’m a nobody compared to him. He’s the undergrad turned PhD turned postdoc who’s been around for nearly a decade, while I’ve been here for a measly four years.
He and Dr. Anderson are practically best friends—my relationship with him isn’t as close.
I can’t say anything that’ll make him see my side, not when he’s only ever gotten the best of Arjun. ”
Nate’s eyes stay hard after that confession, but he doesn’t comment on it, which I appreciate. This is my battle to fight, not his. Maybe, with time, I’ll get to the bottom of Arjun’s hatred for me, but for now, I’ll have to deal with it.
With a nod, he gestures in the direction of the floor, prompting me to follow his lead as he takes a seat. I shake my head in refusal, but the second Nate gives me that pointed look, I place my ass down on what I can only assume is the filthiest floor.
“We might catch something,” I say as he sets the box between us and hands me a fork. Our fingers brush, and our eyes lock—it feels electric, impossible to ignore, but I somehow find it in me to look away.
“I say this kindly, but you aren’t one to talk with the state of your lab coat.” Nate moves on like our exchange didn’t affect him. “The sleeves look radioactive. I’m positive the floors are cleaner.”
I look down to notice that he’s every bit right.
The once-white cotton is stained in varying shades of yellow and beige, with the occasional Sharpie mark. He, on the other hand, is dressed in the nicest black suit he’s worn to date. If he’s okay sitting on the floor, so should I.
“Do I want to know the last time you washed that thing?” Nate asks, tilting his head to the side in concern.
“Probably not.”
“That’s what I thought.” He nods firmly, but the twitch of his lips doesn’t go unnoticed. “Oh well, time to dig in!”
Hearts practically take over my eyes at the lineup of tiramisu flavors. I dive in, piling my fork with as much as gravity will allow me to without making a mess. A moan accidentally leaves my mouth at the taste, and I nod in approval. This might be the best thing I’ve tasted to date.
“Does your reaction mean I’m forgiven?” Nate asks, taking a mouthful of some chocolate cake.
I’m tempted to shake my head to mess with him, but I settle on a nod.
“Unfortunately,” I admit.
“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” He chuckles.
The teasing. The dimpled smile. The spark in his eyes when he looks at me. Something is so intoxicating about this man, yet I still can’t put my finger on it.
“Why the PhD?” Nate asks as he swallows his bite.
I shrug, not wanting to get into it. “I thought it’d be fun to suffer for half a decade.”
Nate chokes on the bite he’s chewing. “Is that what you usually tell people?” he asks.
I give a firm nod.
“That can’t be the full story.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I furrow my brows and tilt my head, putting on my best I have no clue what you’re talking about face.
“Vivienne.” There’s a warning tone to his voice.
I look him in the eyes, unyielding, as I take another large bite of tiramisu.
“You seem ticklish,” he says, studying me. “It’s your choice—spill it, or I’ll tickle the information out of you.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Does that even work on anyone, Nate?”
“It does on my three-year-old niece.”
“Then I’m afraid your tricks won’t work on an adult.”
A loud squeal of surprise slips past my lips as Nate leans toward me, arms outstretched. I move to stand—determined to escape his advance—when a hand clasps my wrist.
With a kick of his foot, the pastry box is pushed to the side, and after a sharp tug, I land in his lap. Just as promised, Nate tickles the absolute life out of me, dragging loud, chaotic laughter out of my chest until I finally fess up.
“Fine. Fine. Fine.” The tickling stops, and I take a second to catch my breath.
“Truth is, I graduated high school, thinking I was going to become a doctor, but I quickly realized the field wasn’t for me.
Yes, I could save people’s lives, but I could also lose them, and the thought of telling people they’d lost their loved ones hit a little too close to home.
Also, I hate the sight of blood, so I picked the next thing I was good at—chemistry.
You can’t do much with only a bachelor’s degree, which is why I decided to continue my education. ”
I finish my overly long and far too personal explanation with a nod. I don’t usually share that much about myself with people I barely know, but Nate has a way of bringing me comfort. As weird as that sounds, given the short time we’ve known each other.
“Is that answer good enough for you, Nate?” I tease, shrugging it off.
Nate gives me a satisfied nod, a soft smile tugging at his lips. In an instant, his gaze dips to my mouth, lingering there for a moment before his thumb brushes along the corner. A dollop of cream finds itself there before he licks it off.