Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Just over five.”
She nodded in approval. “That’s great, Derek.”
“Thanks.” I was done with work for the evening, so I slid my laptop into my satchel. “Do you want something to eat? I’m sorry, I didn’t offer you anything.”
Her eyes softened at the offer. “I ate before I came, but thank you, Derek.”
“So? How’s my lesson plan?”
She pushed the binder toward me. “I did it in chronological order, obviously. At the end of each quarter is a blank copy of your exam along with the key. That’s what the colored tab is for. That way, it’ll be easier for you to find later.”
I flipped through the pages, impressed with the organization. “Thanks. It looks great.”
She smiled. “Any requests for lunch this week?”
“You don’t have to go all the way out there just to bring us lunch—”
“I really don’t mind. I want to make sure you’re well fed since you’re working so hard. Besides, that office needs a lot of work. If I’m going to get anything done, I need to be there more often. In the mornings, I’ll take care of all the household stuff then swing by. Is there anything else I can do for you around the house? I don’t put your clothes in your drawers because I assume you don’t want me to, but I could organize that for you too. And I can use a checkbook to pay your bills as well. One less thing you have to worry about.”
It’d only been a couple weeks and she’d successfully infiltrated my life, but there was still resistance on my part, letting someone have that much access to my life. “Not right this second. We can discuss it at a later time.”
“Alright.” She nodded. “Can I ask you something?”
I turned to her, watching her tuck her long hair behind her ear. The freckles under her eyes somehow heightened her beauty, made her appearance unique. “Yes.”
“How did you get Bryan that internship at NASA?”
I expected her to ask about something about the penthouse or the office. She didn’t ask me many personal questions, not that I invited her to. “I used to work there.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Ohh…”
I shifted my gaze away.
“How long?”
“A couple years. Right out of graduate school.”
“I noticed the women at the front desk call you Dr. Hamilton. Does that mean you have a PhD?”
“You didn’t Google me?” I lifted my eyebrows, finding it hard to believe that she didn’t find every article online that mentioned me. If she was a fan, I expected her to be somewhat familiar with my biography, even though I never included it in my novels.
“No.” She looked me in the eye as she gave her answer, like she was being honest. “I can tell you’re a private person who would prefer it if I didn’t know anything about you at all. Of course, I respect your wishes. That’s my job.”
Maybe she had more integrity than I gave her credit for. “Yes, I have a PhD. Two, actually.”
“What was it like working for NASA?” she asked. “I mean, that sounds like a dream come true.” She propped her chin on her palm as she stared at me, like she was genuinely interested in my answer. Women never asked me this kind of stuff. They were never interested. They just wanted to party, fuck, and discuss my wallet.
“It was my dream.” I’d worked my ass off to get there, to get offered a position on the development engineering team, to work on the rockets that sent our heroes into space. I worked on a couple of rovers, satellites, a little of everything. I stared at my hands on the table.
She studied me. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” I lifted my gaze and looked at her again.
“By your tone, I can tell there was a falling out of some kind.”
She could read me that well? Already?
I had no idea why I even considered telling her when it was none of her business. But it was the first time I didn’t mind sharing something with her. She wasn’t as much of a threat as she used to be. “We prepared the Odyssey for takeoff to the ISS. I did those safety checks a million times before it was approved. But the day before launch, I started to question the simulations and felt this uncertainty in my gut. I checked everything, tried to make sure I didn’t miss anything, and then I realized…we were having unusual weather patterns. We’d had several hurricanes recently, causing the humidity to be different, and that temperature variation was significant. I realized that if we didn’t abort the mission, there was a good chance the rocket would explode at launch.”
She was absolutely still. “Oh my god…” It was as if she knew exactly what happened to the Odyssey, knew exactly how this story ended because she saw it on the news.