Is he talking about himself or JP?
“And I think we both know you don’t have five stars from the Better Business Bureau.”
I lift my head. “Max, that’s enough. Can’t you see that I’m flailing here? You want me to assume responsibility for mistakes I don’t even remember making, solve problems that run deeper than I even understand, and be a saint while doing it. So what if I cut corners? So what if I didn’t tell you the awful truth about me? I’m doing the best I can here.”
Max looks at me with concern. “Mia, I don’t care that you’re a hustler. I’m more worried that you’re in over your head. Yesterday we met a drug kingpin and you threw all his money straight at his head. Who knows what that asshole might do?”
“I know he’s a lowlife, but so am I.”
Max gives me a look. “You’re not a lowlife.”
“Yes I am. But I can handle myself. I know I can.”
He sighs. “Okay. Fine.”
I sit up straight. “Wait, what?”
“Maybe you can handle yourself. There’s only one way for you to find out. Go home to JP. Figure out what to do with GoldRush. I’m here if you need me but…I have to head back to my own life now.” He stands, dusting off the seat of his pants. “I can take an Uber.”
“No, let me take you home. I have the Ferrari.” It might be awkward but I owe him this much. And I’m too wrung out to cry.
Max asks me to drop him off at the lab instead of his house. “Chan isolated the problem with the lie-detecting software. I can fix it and start the process of getting the lab up and running again.”
“Does that mean you can get your job back?”
“If we can fix everything she did, then yes. Chan thinks it’s doable.”
“Awesome,” I say, but I don’t mean it. I’m not ready to let Max go back to the lab. I’m not ready to let him go at all. I don’t want to go our separate ways, and back to the life I had.
“Let me come to the lab with you. I want to see how the brain scanner works.” It’s pathetic. He’s trying to get rid of me and I’m just begging for scraps.
“Um, you don’t need to come with me.”
“No, I’m invested. I want to know that everything is going to turn out okay.” I paste on a smile.
He’s still thinking.
“I really want to see how it works. I’ve been waiting since that first time I walked into your lab.”
He relents by the time we arrive. “Come on up.” I don’t think he means it but I’m too desperate not to take the invitation. Leaving Max and going home to JP and the life I’ve been looking for is the scariest thing I can think of doing. When Max and I step off the elevator onto the third floor, a bunch of his labmates are already there. There are a lot of forced “Hey Max!” greetings and awkward averted eyes. Something definitely went down.
A bro-y dude saunters up to Max. “Hey man. She got you good, didn’t she?”
Max narrows his eyes. “What did she do to it?”
Bro-scientist raises his hands defensively. “You better go find out for yourself. She didn’t just fuck with the software, she made some serious points about…your relationship.” He laughs uncomfortably. “I mean, it’s clever AF. If I didn’t know you, I’d probably high-five her. You’re not gonna like it.”
Purposefully, like a soldier marching into battle, Max walks down the hall to the room with the brain scanner and the computers. On the wall, there’s a schedule of who is using the brain scanner. It’s all Max and Fay up until he became my intern. He writes his name down in all the available slots on Monday and my irrational sense of abandonment increases.
One of the bro-scientists sidles up to me. “I don’t think Max introduced us,” he says.
“Mia.” I hold my hand out.
“Are you and Max a thing?”
“Ask Max,” I say. Professionally, Max might be struggling a little, but his bro-scientist and scandal points are going through the roof. He’s trying to salvage his career from breakup drama with me in tow. I smile dismissively at the bro-scientist and use the reflection from a framed poster of Einstein to apply more Pirate to my lips. A quote is superimposed over Einstein’s picture:Imagination is more important than knowledge.51
When Max is done with the calendar, I follow him into the fMRI room. The helmet of truth is just sitting there taunting me. I can feel it coming. Someone is going to have to wear the damn thing, and here I am like one of the girls onThe Price Is Right—wearing a fancy dress and ready to demonstrate the product.
