Chapter 9
9
JARED
I walked into my office on Monday morning feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.
The weekend in Miami had been long—too long.
Traveling was typically part of the job.
I loved it.
But this last trip had felt like a chore.
I was glad to be back on the Key West campus.
I dropped my bag on the floor and slumped into my chair, running a hand over my face.
I hadn’t even gone out on the town while I was in Miami, which was unusual for me.
I loved the nightlife there—the clubs, the bars, the endless parade of beautiful women.
But this time, my mind just hadn’t been in it.
I couldn’t put my finger on why, but something had felt off.
Shawn walked into my office a few minutes later with two cups of coffee.
He put my cup down in front of me and slouched in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
He propped his foot on his knee.
He looked at me, studied me.
“Rough weekend?” he asked.
“You could say that,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair.
“Lots of women,” he joked.
“I told you, one of these days you are going to take home a woman that is a total nutjob.”
“I didn’t even go out. Just stayed in my hotel room and worked.”
Shawn’s eyebrows shot up.
“You? Stayed in? Like you had a party in your room?”
“Very funny. I mean actual work.”
“Tough case?” he asked.
“No, not really.”
Shawn leaned forward.
“You’re Jared Welch. You don’t just not go out in Miami. It’s practically a crime.”
I shot him a glare.
“I went to dinner.”
“Dinner?” he repeated, like I’d just admitted to something scandalous.
“You? Dinner? That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it,” I snapped, though my tone lacked its usual bite.
I couldn’t explain it—not even to myself—why I hadn’t bothered with the usual routine.
Miami was supposed to be my escape, a place where I could unwind and forget about the weight of the lab for a few days.
But this time, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was missing.
Shawn tilted his head, studying me with that annoyingly perceptive look of his.
“Okay, is this about Dr. Pritchard?”
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Jared. You don’t just sit in your room in Miami.”
I shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it.
“Shut up, Shawn. I just wasn’t in the mood.”
He studied me for a moment.
There was a knowing smirk on his face.
“Come on, man. You don’t have to hide things with me. So be honest. Does this have anything to do with Amelia?”
I froze, feeling tightness in my chest at the mention of her name.
“No,” I said quickly.
“Dr. Pritchard is a consummate professional. Cold, clinical, and critical. The definition of what a scientist should be. That’s not my type.”
Shawn raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
“As if you have a type, you dog. Just don’t go sniffing around the employees. That never ends well for anyone.”
I ignored him, turning to my computer and pulling up a few files.
“How was it here?” I asked.
“Anything exciting?”
He shook his head.
“The wild party scene of a bunch of science geeks isn’t exactly exciting.”
“And Clair?” I asked.
“What? What about her?”
I smirked and shook my head.
He was giving me shit about Amelia, but he was the blind one that couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
“She was working on a case when I left,” I reminded him.
“Oh. I don’t know. She spent most of the weekend in the lab.”
“Bummer for you.”
He looked confused.
“Why?”
“Never mind.” I reached for the coffee and took a drink.
“I’ve got some cases I need to assign to the researchers. Can you take this one to Amelia?” I handed him a file, trying to keep my tone casual.
Shawn took the file, still smirking.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take it to her?”
“Shawn, I know you’re not stupid, but you are clearly an idiot. I don’t have time to play stupid workplace games. We can’t get distracted with bullshit. What we do here is too important.”
“You know she’s really smart,” he said.
“Drop it already.”
“No, for real. I had lunch with her Friday. She was talking to me about some of her research. Do you know who she reminds me of?”
“Nope, but I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”
“When she’s talking about her research or some case she’s been studying, she gets in the zone. Like you. But there’s one glaring difference.”
“An amazing rack?” I said.
He chuckled. “She’s definitely got that.”
I shot him a dirty look.
“Don’t start looking at her chest.”
“You’re the one that brought it up. But no, the difference between you two is she’s not arrogant. She explains things. She’s passionate, but she’s also nice. Humble. Kind.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.
“I’m the humblest person I know.”
He shook his head.
“And the most modest.”
“Just make sure she gets that file.”
“Sure thing, boss. Anything else?”
“No,” I said, waving him off.
“Just get out of here. The arrogant one demands it.”
He laughed as he walked out of the office.
I waited until the door closed behind him before letting out a long breath.
The truth was, even the mention of Amelia’s name had me feeling dizzy.
I didn’t know what it was about her—maybe it was the way she thought so little of me.
She seemed completely immune to my charm, but she was under my skin in a way I couldn’t explain.
I tried to push the thought aside, focusing on my work.
I pulled up my schedule, which was full as expected.
I scanned the calendar and clicked the link for the patient I was going to be doing a consult with.
My assistant was good.
She never let anything slip.
I appreciated that she kept my schedule tight.
Every patient had a complete file loaded and ready for me to review at the click of a mouse.
While I was brushing up on the file, an email notification popped up on my screen.
I felt my stomach drop.
It was from my brother, Michael.
I hesitated for a moment before opening it, already dreading what I’d find.
He was pissed at me.
The email was short, just a few lines of text and a couple of pictures.
The pictures were of my nieces at Disney World, their faces lit up with joy as they posed with Mickey Mouse.
I felt a pang of guilt as I stared at the screen.
I’d missed their birthday trip—again.
I’d had a surgery that day.
When I told Michael I couldn’t make it, things had gotten a little tense.
That was an understatement.
He’d been pissed, and I didn’t blame him.
But sending me these pictures felt like a low blow.
He was just trying to make sure he showed me what I missed.
I stared at the email, my jaw tightening as I read it again.
The pictures of my nieces didn’t help—they just twisted the knife deeper.
I clenched my fists, then exhaled slowly, forcing myself to unclench.
I wasn’t going to let this get to me.
Not today.
I quickly tapped out a reply.
Got your email. The girls look happy.
Glad they had a good time.
Thanks for the pics.
I’ll call them later.
Michael didn’t understand.
He never had. He thought I was selfish, that I cared more about my work than my family.
And maybe he was right.
But what was I supposed to do?
I couldn’t just drop everything every time he wanted me to play the doting uncle.
People thought I was an arrogant, selfish prick.
Maybe I was. But it wasn’t always about being an asshole.
I just knew what was right and I knew that I could do things other people couldn’t.
I could change people’s lives.
Not just change—save.
It wasn’t a God complex.
It was just reality.
I had the power to make a difference.
If it was one of Michael’s daughters, he would understand.
I stood up, needing to clear my head.
I grabbed my phone and headed out of the office, deciding to take a walk around the campus.
The sunshine and warm breeze were an immediate balm to my soul.
It was one of the reasons I chose to have my foundation here.
People like me spent a lot of time inside under fluorescent lights.
That was like the opposite of vitamin D.
I wanted my people to be happy and healthy.
A walk across the campus was a dose of endorphins.
People thought clearer, which was always good when people needed full brainpower.
I wandered aimlessly, thinking about my schedule and Michael and everything else.
I couldn’t explain how it happened, but I found myself outside Amelia’s lab.
I paused, glancing through the glass.
Her lab was a hive of activity, researchers bustling around, equipment humming, the air thick with the scent of coffee.
It was the busiest lab I’d ever seen.
I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride.
She’d only been here a few weeks, and she’d already made it her own.
A lot of labs devolved into chaos.
Either the lead had zero management skills or there were a bunch of egos all trying to prove they were the smartest person in the room.
I wondered what her motivations were.
What drove her to work so hard, to push herself like this?
There was something about her—something intense and focused—that I couldn’t quite figure out.
This wasn’t just a job for her.
It was clear there was something personal about all of this.
She was pushing hard.
I got that way when a life was on the line.
Who was she trying to save?
“Jared.”
I turned, surprised to see Gemma standing there.
She was one of the brain surgeons who used to work for me, but now she came in as a consultant from time to time.
We’d had a thing once, but it had ended a year ago.
Relationships always ran their course, whether they lasted a day or a few weeks.
It was why I avoided emotional attachments for the most part.
Less messy when things fell apart.
She was still beautiful, with her red hair and sharp features, but there was no spark between us anymore.
Yes, she looked like a supermodel, but she was a hard no for me.
Gemma, on the other hand, never made it a secret that she wanted me back.
Never. Going. To Happen.
Ever.
“Gemma,” I said, not unfriendly but not exactly warm.
“What’s up?”
“Just checking in,” she said with her eyes raking over me.
Gemma was what some people might refer to as a siren.
Any man that heard her call would be put under her spell.
But not me. Not anymore.
I had been there and done that.
“How was Miami?” she asked.
“Fine,” I said, shrugging.
“Just work.”
She nodded, her eyes flicking toward Amelia’s lab.
“I’ve seen the new researcher around campus. Amelia, right?”
I knew Gemma.
She was fishing for information.
She no longer lived or worked on the campus, but she still thought she was Queen Bee.
“Dr. Pritchard,” I said.
“She seems intense.”
I followed her gaze, watching as Amelia moved around the lab, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, her face focused and serious.
She was wearing a white lab coat and a pair of black slacks.
She had on a simple white blouse.
Once again, I noticed the buttons across her chest were straining to stay together.
If she coughed, those buttons were going to be flying missiles.
I wanted to rip them off with my teeth.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice neutral.
“She’s focused. A good quality to have.”
Gemma sighed, her tone dismissive.
“Stuck up and boring, isn’t she? I heard she’s not exactly making a lot of friends.”
“I don’t think she’s here to make friends.”
“Researchers are so dull. And weird. They don’t really have social lives, which is probably what makes them so awkward. They get obsessed with their work. I guess it makes sense she’s so focused on TBIs. Not sure you can do much there. You can’t fix an injury like that.”
“That remains to be seen,” I said thoughtfully.
If anyone could do it, it was Amelia.
“Well, whatever,” Gemma said.
“Maybe she’ll fix your brain so you can see what a good thing you’re missing out on.”
For a second, I thought she was encouraging me to go after Amelia.
Then I realized she was referring to herself.
I felt a flicker of irritation, but before I could respond, Gemma walked away, her heels clicking against the floor.
I turned back to the lab, my eyes landing on Amelia.
She was staring at me through the glass, her expression unreadable.
But when our eyes met, she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing.