“You had a few teachers like that. Remember that professor at Harvard?”
I rolled my eyes.
“After you corrected his errors, he had it out for you for the rest of the semester.”
“Yeah, I remember.” I continued to eat. “The basis of being a teacher is to make your students be the best they can be. But they can’t be better than you? That’s where you draw the line? They say money is the root of all evil…I think it’s the ego.”
He nodded. “You have a point there. Emerson wasn’t angry with you?”
She was so touched by what I’d done that she snuck me into her apartment so she could show how much she appreciated it. “No.”
“Good. You think you’ll tell Lizzie anytime soon?”
I shrugged. “No idea. That’s Emerson’s call…”
“So, that means you’re ready?”
“I…I don’t know.” Lizzie was a great kid, and I liked her a lot. More importantly, she liked me. “But I’m just her tutor right now. That’s why she treats me that way. But if my role changes to being her mother’s boyfriend, she might treat me differently.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.”
“So, you think I should?”
He shrugged. “Up to you. But it sounds like it wouldn’t be a problem, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I haven’t been seeing Emerson very long. It’s only been a couple months…”
Dad continued to eat, wearing a blank stare.
“It’s just soon.”
“I think time is a finite integer, but I also think humans experience the passage of time differently.”
I stared at him, unsure what that meant.
“Loving your mother had no beginning or end. It was just there, and I don’t know when it actually started. Maybe it happened the moment we met. I have no idea. I’m just saying, you can’t measure your feelings for someone with time as the unit. Studies suggest that people fall in love within twenty-four hours of meeting someone…so there’s that.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“And then people wait to say how they really feel to make sure they’re compatible before that commitment is put in place. I guess that’s what you’re doing now, making sure your relationship is compatible before taking that step. But, from my point of view, you seem compatible. But you’re the only one that can decide that.”
I shut my laptop and answered the door.
Emerson dropped off Lizzie for our biweekly tutoring session. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Can we go out to eat after?”
“No.” Emerson shook her head. “Once in a while, Lizzie. We aren’t going out after every session.” She turned to me and gave me a polite nod. “Hey, Derek. Thanks again for doing this.” She left the penthouse and walked down the hallway.
I tried not to stare at her ass as she walked away in those tight jeans and boots. I shut the door and turned to Lizzie.
She beamed as she looked at me, like we were friends. “Everyone at my school is talking about how you were there.”
“Yeah?” I walked to the dining table and took a seat.
“Yeah. Kids recognized you in the hall. I told them you were my tutor.” She set her backpack on the table and took a seat. “Everyone thinks I’m cool now.”
“You are cool, Lizzie.”
Her cheeks reddened as she took out her things.
It was getting easier to talk to her. I didn’t have to think so hard anymore. “What did you do over the weekend?”
“There was a Greek festival in the park, so we went to that. My grandpa had knee surgery a little while back, and he’s been able to get around a lot better now, so he came along. That was fun.”
“That sounds nice.” I smiled at the news of her grandfather. It made me happy to know he was doing well, getting his life back. And it probably made him happy to spend the day with his family out and about.
“We’re part Greek, so we go every year.”
I didn’t know that. But Emerson was gorgeous, so I guess it wasn’t that surprising.
“The boy I like was there with his family…” She pulled out her pencil and sharpened it.
She just told me she liked a boy, and I had no idea what to do with that information. “Did you tell your mom?”
She shrugged. “She kinda figured it out because I kept staring at him. She told me to go talk to him, but I wouldn’t. We’ve only talked to each other a couple times, so we aren’t really friends.”
I wasn’t going to give her advice about boys, so I didn’t say anything.
She put her pencil sharpener back into her bag then opened her notebook. “Do you like my mom?”
I stilled at the question.
She pulled out her worksheet then looked at me when I didn’t answer the question.
Now I was put on the spot. “Of course. She’s a great assistant and a great friend.” I probably was reading too much into it and misunderstood what she asked.
“I mean, do you like her? I won’t tell her.”
Shit.
She continued to stare at me.
“Why do you ask that?”
She shrugged. “I think she likes you, so…” She pushed the worksheet toward me.
I didn’t look at it. “What makes you think she likes me?”
“I don’t know…the way she talks about you. And she talks about you a lot.”
“Well, I’m her boss, and we spend a lot of time together.”
“Yeah, but…she just sounds different when she talks about you. I can’t explain it.” She went back to staring at me.
Her intelligence and intuition were now biting me in the ass. “Let’s get started.” I pulled her worksheet closer to me and sidestepped the topic altogether.
Lizzie’s confidence made a big difference in her education. Now that she actually thought she could do well, she put in more effort, listened to me better, and of course, that was reflected in her work.
She was killing it.
“Look at that.” I handed her the worksheet I’d created for her, my grade at the top. “Perfect score.”
She smiled and took it back from me. “Dude, I never thought I would be good at math.”
“Dude?” I asked with a slight chuckle.
“Sorry. I mean, Derek.”
“No, it’s fine. I just haven’t been called that in a long time.”
“Should I call you Dr. Hamilton?”
I released a scoff. “No, please don’t ever call me that.”
She smiled, like my humility was endearing to her. “I’m not good at science either… Can you help me with that?”
I barely had time to do anything, but I would never deny a student who asked for help. “Of course. What kind of science class are you in?”
“Life science. It’s mostly biology, like mitosis and stuff like that.”
“Biology is all about memorization. I never cared for it in school because it’s applied differently. Chemistry and physics were more interesting to me.”
“God, I hope I don’t have to take either of those in high school.”
I gave her a sympathetic look.
“No…”
“You’re gonna have to take both if you want to go to college.”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes back and sighed.
“But you can do it, Lizzie. Look, you just said you always sucked at math, and now you’re awesome at it. Science will be no different. I can help you anytime.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I wish you were my teacher for everything.”
That was one of the best compliments I’d ever received. It made me continue to question my stance on interns at work. I didn’t want to spend the time babying anyone, but when I tutored Lizzie, it was fulfilling. When I did problems during office hours with my students, it was fulfilling also. Maybe I could squeeze a little more time out of my life to do a little more. “I’m also here if you have questions.”
She pulled out her
phone. “Can I have your number?”
I had no problem giving it to her, but then I thought about Emerson. “Ask your mom first. If she says yes, she can give you my number.”
“Cool.” She set her phone down.
We were finished with her lesson and she finished her worksheet on her own, so she packed up her things and waited for Emerson to fetch her.
I didn’t know what to do with her, so I continued to sit there.
She looked out the window and drummed her fingers. Then she turned to me. “You’re a writer, too, right?”
I nodded. “I am.”
“Mom loves your books.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
“She’s been trying to get me to read them, but I’ve never gotten around to it. I’ll give it a try.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“I didn’t know you could be both. You know, scientist and writer. Can’t you just be one or the other?”
“Says who?” I turned to her. “We’re taught to pursue one profession and then work at that profession until we retire. But life is long and we’re highly intelligent beings, so we have the time and intellect to do many things. I choose to be an aeronautical engineer, a professor, and a writer.”
“I’ve never thought about it like that before.”
“You can pursue more than one thing.”
“What made you want to be a writer?”
I shrugged. “I never wanted to be a writer. I just had an idea, and I wrote it down. There’s no such thing as wanting to be a writer—you either are or you aren’t. It’s a solitary activity. People who say they want to be a writer usually mean they want to be a successful writer, and that’s impossible to achieve unless you write something. My imagination comes from the possibilities of my work, the machines I build to get humans to space, and I decided to write them down. I never dreamed it would be popular, that more than ten people would read it, but I have fans…and that’s pretty amazing.”
“That’s so cool. You’re the most successful person I’ve ever met.”
“Success is an arbitrary thing. It’s different for everyone. Don’t measure your success against someone else’s because they aren’t comparable. Look at your grandfather. His idea of success was walking to and through the park with you guys. And that’s a success he should be proud of.”
She chuckled. “I feel like I’m talking to a fortune cookie when I talk to you.”
“Am I spitting out random lines that are meant to look like wisdom?”
“No. You’re just…really interesting. You’re so young, and you’ve already lived an amazing life. It’s really cool.”
My eyes softened at her comment. “Thanks.” Most of the time, people just called me a nerd. I didn’t really think of myself as a cool person.
Emerson knocked before she stepped inside. “I’m here.”
Lizzie sighed like she was disappointed to leave. “Hey, Mom.”
“How’d it go?” Emerson walked to the table and watched Lizzie pick up her backpack.
“Good.” She slipped her arms through the straps of her backpack and put it on. “I got all the answers right.”
Emerson smiled at her daughter and brought her in for a hug. “That’s great.”
“And Derek was telling me about him being a writer. He’s, like, the most interesting person ever,” Lizzie said. “By the way, can I have his number?”
Emerson cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you need it?”
“Just so I can ask him questions about homework and stuff during the day.” Lizzie looked confused. “What’s the big deal? I asked Derek, and he told me I had to ask you.”
Emerson turned to me. “It’s okay with me…if it’s okay with him.”
It was a little weird at first, the idea of Lizzie having access to me whenever she wanted, but if she just asked about homework, I didn’t see the harm in it. I wanted to be there for her if she needed anything. “Sure.”
“Cool.” Lizzie headed to the front door.
Emerson looked at me in my chair, her eyes filling with affection. “You’re sure?” she whispered, her daughter across the room and at the door.
I nodded. “I’m sure.” I rose to my feet so I could walk her to the door.
She smiled. “Alright. And speaking of being a writer…when am I going to get my signed books?”
I continued to put it off because I had no idea what to write. It was easier for me to sign my father’s book on the spot because I knew how I felt about him. But with Emerson, she’d changed my life in a way no one else had…in many ways. What did you say to the person who was so significant that it couldn’t be put into words? “Soon.”
14
Emerson
It was my favorite day of the week—Wednesday.
I came to Derek’s penthouse, and we went out to breakfast.
All I wanted to do was go to bed and enjoy our time together, but I would also be starving afterward, so it was smart to eat first then do the good stuff later.
He drank from his mug of coffee before he set it down. Then he grabbed his fork and took a few more bites.
It was nice to have these moments with him, a sense of normalcy when our lives were anything but normal. It made me feel like it was just the two of us. We weren’t at his office doing work, and I didn’t have a daughter who would be a teenager very soon. Time was paused. “How’s your food?”
“Not as good as yours.” He nodded to my plate, which was a stack of chocolate chip pancakes smothered in syrup.
“You’re welcome to eat as much as you want.”
He shook his head and kept eating, the light hitting his face perfectly, highlighting that nice complexion along with the shadow of his jawline. He was so breathtakingly beautiful, in the darkness in his bedroom or out in the open like this.
“Has Lizzie texted you?”
“A couple times.”
“What did she say?”
“Asked about some stuff with her math class.”
“Good. I’m glad she’s not bothering you with other things.”
“I don’t mind, baby.” He took another drink of his coffee.
I wondered if he wouldn’t mind telling her that we were together, sharing the truth of our relationship. But I didn’t ask because I didn’t want him to be pressured. I waited for him to tell me when he was ready. Everything was going so well, and it would be so stupid to trip at the finish line.
“She told me your dad is doing well, walking to the park with you guys.”
“Yes, it’s been really nice. He’s been very happy.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He drank from his coffee again. “You know, since I mentioned it at the TED Talk, I’ve been rethinking expanding the intern policy at my company. It’s really time-consuming, but I think it could be a good thing. I’ve gotten a lot of enjoyment out of teaching Lizzie, even though it takes up my time, and maybe it would be good to bring students to the company so they can be taught by the best minds in the world.”
“Yeah?” I asked with a smile. “I think that would be great.”
“I’ll talk to everyone at the company and see what their response is.”
“Maybe have it be voluntary. That way, they aren’t being forced when they aren’t interested. Nothing worse than having a mentor who doesn’t want to mentor you.”
He nodded. “Good point.”
“And maybe a pay increase as an incentive.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea too.”
I liked that he valued my input. Most men would just dismiss me or talk over me because I was a woman, but he never interrupted me, never belittled me for my opinions. He never treated me like a dumbass when he was a genius. “I’ll put together everything, and we can distribute it to your colleagues. See how they feel about it.”
He nodded. “I wish there were more hours in a day…even just a couple.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you managed to figure out how to make that happen,
” I said with a laugh.
He chuckled. “If only…” He looked out the window, setting his fork down. “But if I had more hours in the day, I would just want to spend them with you.”
Derek stayed late because it was Wednesday, and I stuck around so I could work on the expansion of the internship program. Lizzie had soccer practice late on Wednesdays anyway, so I wasn’t missing much with her.
After we had dinner, he finished up a couple more things, and then we left together.
When we were in the car, I handed him all the paperwork I’d typed up.
He was silent as he read through it all, pulling out his pen to leave marks and notes as he went along, adopting that serious expression that made him irresistible. It was the look he wore when he was focused on something, that big, beautiful brain working hard.
I looked out the window and waited for him to finish.
When he was done, he handed it back to me. “I like it. Just make those changes, and we’ll send it out to everyone in an email. We have a meeting next week, so we’ll discuss it then.”
“Sounds good.” I put the papers back in my purse.
Ronnie pulled up to the building for Derek to get out. We would share a good kiss in goodbye, and then I wouldn’t see him until tomorrow morning. It was always hard to say goodbye, to watch him walk away when I wanted to be with him always.
But maybe someday…we wouldn’t have to say goodbye.
Derek sat there for a while before he picked up his satchel and stared at it.
I watched him, unsure why he didn’t get out of the car or look at me.
He seemed to be thinking about something, so I didn’t say anything. Then he opened his satchel and pulled out his books, three of them. “I signed your books.” He turned and set them on the center console between us. “Sorry it took so long. Just…took me a while to figure out what to write.”
I stared at the books but didn’t touch them, having the signature of my favorite author in the world…who was also the man I loved. I lifted my gaze and looked at him, my eyes soft and my lips relaxed in a gentle smile. “Thank you… It means a lot.”
The Boy Who Has No Belief (Soulless Book 7) Page 14