Chapter 2 #2
She stopped spinning, looking at me with those wide green eyes.
“The pen behind your ear?” I suggested, smiling wider. “Might that be the one you’re looking for?”
She froze. Her hand slowly went up to her ear, found the pen, and her face flushed pink. “Oh. Right. That’s… Yes. Thank you.”
“No problem.” I leaned against the doorframe, studying her.
Mid-twenties, maybe. Pretty in an understated way, like she’d never given much thought to it.
Maybe giving her a distinct task might help her center.
“You know what? You look like you could use a break. How about you grab us both some coffee? I could definitely use some after the drive here.”
“Coffee?” She blinked at me, then looked around like coffee might materialize from thin air.
“Yeah, you know, that magical liquid that makes mornings bearable?” I kept my tone teasing, gentle. “I saw a break room on the fourth floor. What do you say?”
She nodded slowly, still looking a bit dazed. “I… Yes. Coffee. I can do that.”
“Great. Black for me, thanks.” I gave her another smile. “Take your time. Deep breaths.”
She nodded again and headed for the door, then turned back. “Did Raymond give you a badge? He’s supposed to run it by us before he gives anyone new a badge to—”
“Dr. Gifford!”
We both turned as a man in a suit came through the inner doors. Forties, professionally pleasant expression, the kind of guy who probably had his coffee preferences memorized by every assistant he’d ever had.
“Dr. Gifford, the test results from yesterday’s trial are—” He stopped when he saw me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we had a visitor.”
I glanced around for Dr. Gifford. No sign of him. But the other two people in the reception area weren’t looking around either, which could only mean…
Fuck. I’d been talking to Dr. Gifford?
I looked at the flustered woman with stains on her wrinkled blouse, a pen tucked behind one ear, and the general air of someone who’d lost a wrestling match with the office phone system. This was Dr. C.L. Gifford? The head of the quantum engineering team? The genius George had told me about?
Maybe I should’ve read the damn file George sent me instead of just skimming it last night. But I’d been focused on the building layout, the lab access points…not the staff roster.
And okay, in my defense, she couldn’t have been more than mid-twenties. The head of a world-class quantum R&D team? She looked like she should be prepping for midterms or leading a sorority mixer, not wrangling qubits for breakfast.
“This is…” She paused, looking at me with those green eyes, and I realized she’d already forgotten my name.
“Ty Hughes,” I supplied, putting a friendly edge on my tone. “Security consultant. George Mercer should’ve mentioned I was coming.”
The man in the suit eased immediately, extending his hand. “Alex Richards, head of R&D. Yes, George did tell me. I just wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“Figured I’d get an early start. Raymond Wilmington handed me a badge”—or threw it at me. Same difference—“so here I am.”
“Charlotte,” another voice called out, and a dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway. Petite, polished, the complete opposite of the flustered Charlotte. She was carrying a lab coat in one hand.
“You left this in the break room again,” the newcomer said, holding up the lab coat like it was evidence in a crime. “How are you supposed to—oh.” Her eyes landed on me, and her smile shifted to something warmer. “Hello.”
The shift made me wonder: professional interest or personal? The answer was probably yes.
“Darcy Giglio. Computer engineer,” she said, bypassing any formal introduction. “And you are?”
“Ty Hughes. Security.”
Darcy’s brows rose, and she flicked a glance toward Charlotte—brilliant Dr. Gifford, I corrected myself again—who was in the middle of an Olympic-level juggling act involving the lab coat, a tablet, a sticky note, and a pen. She was losing to all four.
“Charlotte, did you know about this?” Darcy asked.
“I do now,” Charlotte said, trying to keep her pen from escaping while also attempting to put on the coat one-handed.
“Here, let me.” Darcy stepped forward, holding it open like they were about to waltz.
Charlotte slid her arms through the sleeves and glanced down with a groan.
“Still damp. I, um…spilled coffee on it earlier. Washed it in the sink. It’s…
mostly fine. Probably.” She stopped abruptly, realizing she was oversharing, and then barreled on anyway.
“Well, unless you hate the smell of coffee, in which case, it’s a war crime. ”
“This is why I keep telling you to stash a spare lab coat in your office,” Darcy said in a tone equal parts fondness and exasperation.
“I have spare lab coats,” Charlotte insisted. “I just…spilled stuff on those too.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Mr. Hughes, perhaps we should discuss the security arrangements in my office. Dr. Gifford, the test results?”
“Oh! Yes. They’re…somewhere.” Charlotte patted her pockets like she expected the results to appear by magic. “I had them. I know I had them.”
“On your desk,” Darcy said. “Under the lunch you forgot to eat.”
“Right.” Charlotte spun toward the inner doors, then stopped and turned back to me. “It was nice to meet you, Mr.…”
“Hughes,” I supplied again, smiling. “But call me Ty.”
“Ty.” She nodded like she was committing it to memory…and then walked straight into the closed glass door because she’d forgotten to badge in.
She jumped back, cheeks pink. “I’m okay! Totally fine. Didn’t even hurt. Probably.”
Her second attempt was successful, and she disappeared into the lab. Darcy shook her head, clearly amused.
“Brilliant scientist,” she told me. “Absolutely hopeless at everything else.”
“Darcy,” Alex said in a mild warning.
“What? It’s true, and we all know it. She’d forget to eat if someone didn’t shove food in her hands. We’ve considered putting her on a leash.” Darcy gave me an assessing look. “So—security. Is there a specific threat?”
“Just precautionary,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “Given the sensitive nature of your research.”
Alex nodded. “I’ll have someone prepare a temporary workspace for you.”
“Thanks, appreciate it.”
Alex headed off. Darcy lingered a beat longer.
“Charlotte means well,” she said. “She just doesn’t really…do people. Especially new people. Especially new people who happen to be attractive.”
I arched a brow.
“What? I have eyes,” she said breezily. “Anyway, if you need anything, I’m usually the one who knows where everything is.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
She vanished into the lab, leaving me alone in reception with a ringing phone and no one else in the vicinity to help. I answered the call, transferred it to someone’s voicemail, and wondered what the hell I’d just walked into.
Dr. Charlotte Gifford. Not the elderly man in a tweed jacket I’d been expecting. Not even close.
Brilliant. Accomplished. Utterly incapable of keeping track of a pen.
And, I admitted, kind of adorable—those wide green eyes, the way she flushed when she realized the pen was behind her ear, the total lack of pretense. Just a genius in coffee-stained clothes who’d walked into a door.
The next two weeks were going to be…interesting.