“You’re not the only one who can recruit,” he says, but there’s maybe a little something in his voice. Jesus, I hope he’s not sleeping with her. Seeing as how Jasper has never kept a relationship going for longer than three months at a time—not that I have room to talk—I don’t want things getting complicated.“I’m not sleeping with her,” he says, because I guess my silence spoke volumes.
I take a deep breath, run a hand through my hair.“Things are really moving on this.”
“Yeah. So, listen. We need out of that non-compete. Greg is set on Averin—she’s part of a really small pool who has what we need, Tucker. Where are you on that?”
I’m at the place where I’ve seen her in shorts. Where I’ve noticed that I like the smell of suntan lotion on her skin. Where I’ve fixed her toilet so I could hang around her for longer.
“I’m on it. I’m meeting with her tonight at her lab.”
“Good,” he says, and the confidence in his voice, which would normally be a compliment, is an albatross around my neck.“You’ve got to make it happen.”
“Yeah,” I say, standing.“I told you, I’ve got an in with her tonight.”
“What’s she like, anyway?” Jasper says. This is why I’m better at the actual recruiting. Jasper’s taken over a week to ask this question, when really, to be good at this,what’s she likeis the first question you ask.
I surprise myself by not wanting to answer. I don’t want him to know anything about her.“You know,” I say.“Typical mad scientist.” This feels so disloyal. It makes me physically restless to have said it. I thunk the side of my fist against one of the shutters I’ve slotted in place. But I know that it’s Jasper to whom I owe my loyalty; it’s to this plan we’ve been developing for the last few years. It’s not as if I’m trying to ruin Kit’s life. I’m trying to give her a high-paying job doing exactly what she loves.
I’ve got to get my head straight before tonight.
* * * *
Kit’s not in her office when I arrive a few minutes before seven, but she’s stuck a note on her door with an arrow pointing down the hall and what looks to be a hastily scribbled:Ben, I’m in room 006.
It’s dismal down here, more so than it was upstairs in the lab—even though there’s no windows to let in outdoor light anyway, somehow being here when night is falling makes it seem darker still, more institutional. I make my way down the hall and knock on room 006, and after a minute or so Kit opens the door, her smile wide and excited.
“This is going to begreat,” she says, but then she looks me over and frowns.“Oh.”
“What?” I ask, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt.
“I thought you’d be wearing—you know, your suit or something?”
“Well, despite our first meeting, Kit, I don’t generally want to wear that stuff unless I have to.”
She waves a dismissive hand.“I don’t care about that. It’s just that you’ll probably be cold. We keep the temperature low in here,” she says, thumbing over her shoulder. I notice for the first time that she’s got a bulky, wrap-around sweater on over her clothes.“Wait here.”
She comes out of the dark room she was in, letting the door shut behind her, and hustles down to her office. When she comes back, she’s carrying a purple sweatshirt that she holds out to me.“Uh, I don’t think we wear the same size,” I say. That’s an understatement. I am huge compared to Kit, to the point where in my dirtiest thoughts I’ve wondered whether I’d crush her if I ever got her into bed.
She rolls her eyes.“It’s a large.”
“A women’s large?”
“It’s unisex,” she says, shaking it in my direction.“You’re not worried about your masculinity, are you?”
I widen my eyes in mock outrage.“I’m man enough to wear purple,” I say, taking it from her and tugging it on.Tuggingis really the right word here, because this thing is tight all over, especially across my chest and shoulders. I’ll probably lose circulation.“This can’t be a large.”
She has the decency to try and stifle her laugh.
“Does it make my biceps look huge, though?” I joke, flexing theatrically.
“Oh my God. You’re an idiot.” But she’s laughing, those dark eyes bright, crinkled at the corners.
Focus, I scold myself, remembering what’s on the line here.
Before she reopens the door, she turns to look up at me, her expression serious.“Have you ever seen one of these before?”
“Seen a microscope? Sure.”
She shakes her head.“I meanthiskind of microscope. A probe-corrected scanning transmission electron microscope.”
