I snort a laugh. “Very observant.”
“I knew something was strange about you…,” he continues. “Never would’ve come to this conclusion, however, but that’s why I followed after you last night.” His eyes narrow on me. “I was curious about you.”
I take a sip of cappuccino. Run my tongue over my lips as I consider him. As a scientist, he’d have a curious nature. This I can believe. I reach into my very expensive tote and pull out his pocket watch. “Why do you carry an antique timepiece?” I slide the watch his way along the table.
He takes the watch, and I study how he noticeably relaxes now that it’s in his grasp. Like I realized last night, this watch is very important to him.
“My sister gave it to me.” He clicks the cover open. His fingers touch the backing reverently as his blue gaze traces the object. “Before she died,” he adds.
His sister. That would explain the inscription. I would offer my condolences, but I don’t feel the need for forced commiseration with him. He’d perceive it as banal. For that, I’m thankful.
“So, is it hybristophilia?” he says suddenly, shifting topics.
“Excuse me?”
“How you came to be in the business of revenge,” he says. He slips the watch into his front pocket and looks up at me. “A paraphilia where one is attracted to dangerous men, such as serial killers…or perhaps prick financial advisers?”
“Wow. You really are an awkward conversationalist.” I take another sip of coffee. Despite my criticism of him, a tiny corner inside me can relate to this man. Had I not spent years studying how to blend in, I’d probably be even more awkward than him. I can’t fault this guy for investing his time in the study of curing disease rather than manipulation. It’s admirable.
“Or maybe…” He scoots his chair around the table, closer to mine. “It’s just about the danger itself. Or you were wronged by someone. Someone close. You’re a scorned woman bent on delivering righteous vengeance.”
Now I laugh out right. He smiles, enjoying the sound of my laugh. “None of the above,” I say, tossing my newly dyed hair from my shoulders. “It pays well.”
He shakes his head. “Not buying it. Nothing is ever really about money. Besides, after a quick Google search, I know that you have plenty of money.”
“Family money,” I correct. “Not mine.”
He just watches me, waiting.
As I trace the pad of my finger around the mug, I think about how I came to be where I am, maybe for the first time ever. I’m not really the reflective type.
“Fine,” I say. “Here’s the truth. My first year at Brown, I decided college wasn’t for me. My mother wanted to ‘put me in my place’ and cut off all financial means. I was always good at computers, and there’s a plethora of work to be found on the dark web.”
He holds up a hand. “Wait. Just like that? No, hey, let me work my way up to the big jobs.”
I lift my chin. “I came across an ad for a revenge job, and I took it.” I shrug. “I knew I’d be good at it, and I was.”
I leave out some finer details, like how the adrenaline-inducing danger surrounding my work is the only thing that penetrates the nonfeeling parts of me. That’s not a great conversational piece. Admittedly, Alex has gotten me to open up more in the first five minutes of talking to him than I have to just about anyone else.
That realization is curious, and a little alarming—and somewhat thrilling in its own way. This is different. I haven’t experienced different in a while.
His gaze holds mine, resolute. “You might be the most decisive person I’ve ever met.”
“What can I say? Vengeance is my ethos. It suits me.”
“So ultimately, it is about the money.”
I nod in affirmation. “Sometimes, it’s just that simple.”
“And what did our friend Ericson do to earn a spot on your list?”
“I don’t discuss clients or targets,” I say. “It’s unfortunate enough that you know who he is.”
“Come on,” he prods. “Who am I going to tell? I’m in a lab all day and talk to molecules and cells.”
I stay firm. “Absolutely not. You don’t want to get involved in this, Alex.”
His mouth tips into an endearing grin.
“What?” I ask.
“I like how you said my name. Sounds like we’re friends.”
I reach for my mug. “You need to guard yourself better.” I drain the rest of the now-cold cappuccino. “Or else you’ll keep winding up in supply closets.”
He watches me while he drinks the rest of his coffee. The waitress offers us a refill and I shake my head. “Just the check. Thanks.”
“You don’t have to cover me,” Alex says.
“It’s the least I can do,” I say, reaching into my tote. “I mean, after I drugged you and all.” I pause while holding my billfold. “Although you did botch my job…”
“For that, I’m sorry I got in the way,” he says, but that little grin conveys he’s not sorry in the least.
I pay the tab and put my credit card away in my bag. “It was…interesting to meet you, Dr. Alex Chambers. Have a nice life, and try not to end up on my list.”
“Wait—” He goes to reach for my wrist, but holds his hand up at the last moment. “Sorry. Reflex. But I’m a quick learner. No touching.”
Halted, I stare down at him. Waiting.
“When can I see you again?” he asks.
I bite the corner of my lip. Does this guy have a death wish, or is he just that bored with his life? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Alex…” I sigh. “Look, you’re a clever guy. And honestly, I’m tempted to offer you some kind of monetary compensation for that application you developed. It’s definitely a program that interests me. But—”
“But you’re not interested in making new friends.”
“I don’t do friends. Like you, I work a very solitary job. I happen to like it that way.”
He considers this a moment, then: “But I know who you are, Blakely. I know what you do. I’m a loose end…just dangling out here in the wild.”
I sit back down. “Are you trying to blackmail me? Just for the record, that’s a terrible way to try to make a friend.” Even so, I’m curious to find out just what he thinks he has on me.
He leans forward. “You’re either going to have to create a whole new identity or kill me.” When I stay silent, he laughs awkwardly. “Sorry. Terrible joke. I’m really bad at this.”
“You really are,” I agree.
He reclines back in the chair and crosses his arms. “What I mean is, you’re going to have to develop a new revenge scheme for Ericson, right?” He arches an eyebrow. “It’s not as if you can bait him as an escort again.”
I don’t like that he’s put this much thought into it, but he’s right. I doubt Ericson will call on my services again after the way I left him…holding his aching balls. I have to devise a different strategy to get access to his office computer, or construct a new revenge plan altogether.