“Yeah,” she’d said. “Because he’s a tech guy. They’re all like that, mate. There’s a price to pay for being that smart and loaded.”
That explanation had apparently satisfied everyone but me.
Because every time I looked up and found him across the room, standing perfectly still with that same oddly calmexpression on his face, I got this weird little prickle at the base of my neck.
It felt like I was being watched by something patient.
A predator.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
He was a donor. A weirdly dressed donor with way too much free time and a very serious interest in fish.
That was all.
Still.
When I’d seen him step through the front doors twenty minutes ago, suit jacket immaculate as ever, I’d turned right around and slipped through the staff corridor before he could notice me.
Which was why I was now hiding behind a quarantine tank pretending to be extremely invested in a mildly pissed-off lionfish.
I capped my pen and leaned back, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“You’re being paranoid,” I muttered to myself before taking a deep breath.
Just finish the quarantine checks.
Five more tanks, then I could head back out like a normal person and stop acting like some paranoid idiot avoiding a guy who probably didn’t even know I existed.
I grabbed the clipboard and moved to the next tank, jotting down salinity readings and greeting the little patients.
When I reached the last one, I paused.
The service door at the end of the hallway had opened.
I hadn’t heard it over the filtration system.
Footsteps crossed the tile behind me, and my lungs stopped working.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and just as I was about to pass out from nerves, the person behind me spoke.
“Took me forever to find you, mate. Board says you’re stationed at the jellies, so what’re you doing back here?”
A relieved breath rushed out of me at the familiar voice, and I turned to see Mark, one of the senior aquarists.
“You right?” he asked, his voice growing concerned. “You look like you’re going to faint. Do you need to sit for a bit?”
I shook my head and worked to steady my breathing. “No, no—I’m okay. Sorry. I just didn’t hear you coming, and it spooked me.”
Mark looked like he didn’t fully believe me, but didn’t argue. Instead, he clapped my shoulder and went to check the charts of the tanks I hadn’t gotten to yet.
While looking over the numbers, he asked again, “So are you hiding back here? You didn’t answer me before.”
I sighed and leaned my hip against the counter beside the tank. The lionfish flared at the motion again, apparently deciding I was personally responsible for every inconvenience in its life. My lips quirked up a little from the thought.
“Maybe,” I admitted.
