Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I rubbed my fingers across my chin, thinking about a million things at once. “No, it’s not.”
“I can repeat it.”
“No. Repeating the same experiment and expecting different results is pointless.” Instead of reading fiction in my spare time, I chose to read biographies and memoirs from the greatest minds in civilization, even if they were out of my discipline, like Albert Einstein. “Give me some time to think about it. I know the answer is right in front of us… I just don’t know where.”
He nodded in agreement. “It’s late anyway.” He pulled back his sleeve and glanced at the time. “You have somewhere to be this evening, Deacon?”
I straightened my back then rose from the stool. “My brother is in town. Asked me to get a drink.”
“That’s nice.” He left the stool and shed his lab coat by the front door so he could pack his things.
I headed to the door. “See you in the morning, Clint.”
“You too, Deacon.”
When I walked into the bar, I found Tucker sitting alone at a table, an IPA in front of him. He was in jeans and a rust-colored shirt, his jacket hanging over the back of the chair. His eyes were on the TV, but sometimes he glanced to a group of women on the other side of the bar.
I moved through the sea of tables in my jeans and hoodie because I’d changed before walking a few blocks to the meeting spot.
He looked up when he noticed me, a handsome smile coming onto his face, his eyes lighting up the way Mom’s did, and he rose to his feet. “There’s my little brother.” He opened his arms and embraced me, clapping me on the back.
I returned the gesture, gripping him tightly before I pulled away. “How are you?”
He smiled. “So, you have learned your manners?” he said with a chuckle. “I thought you were a lost cause.” He returned to the seat.
I pulled out the chair and sat across from him.
The waitress came over immediately. “What can I get you?”
Without looking at her, I answered. “Sam Adams.”
“Anything else?” she asked, her voice less cheery at my coldness.
“No,” I answered in the same tone.
She disappeared.
Tucker stared at her ass as she walked away, his eyes moving back to me when she was out of sight. “How do you catch tail if you’re always a jackass?”
I shrugged. “Haven’t caught any tail, actually.”
After he took a drink, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I’ve been married for five years…in case you forgot.”
“And you’ve been divorced for months. Don’t you want to fuck everything in sight?”
I was a man with needs, and jerking off to porn wasn’t that exciting. Now that I was unencumbered, no longer committed to a spiteful bitch, I wanted to have those physical encounters…a lot. “Yes.”
“Then be a little more charming.”
“We both know I don’t know how to talk to people.” I’d never been good at the social stuff. I only liked to talk about things I was interested in. Everything else seemed like wasted time.
“Well, you don’t need to be very chatty to land pussy.”
It seemed like women only wanted to talk.
“You’re a good-looking guy, you’re ripped, and you’re a billionaire. You don’t need to say much to get a woman to spend the night with you.”
I was only ripped for health reasons, not to get laid. I was particular about my diet, ditching the fried food in bars and restaurants and choosing to eat at home most of the time. My one vice was alcohol. I wasn’t rich by design; my career just worked out that way. And I was handsome…because I got lucky. “I don’t know. I’m divorced with a kid—”
“Trust me. Walk up to a beautiful woman and tell her all that—she’ll be yours.”
“But I don’t want to take her on a date—”
“No problem.” He waved his hand, like the issue was inconsequential. “Be straight about it. Just don’t be an asshole.”
“I don’t know how not to be an asshole.”
“Don’t give clipped answers. Don’t say no all the time. Act like you’re listening even if you aren’t.” Tucker smiled.
“I’ll show you,” Tucker said. “But let’s catch up for a bit. How’s the lab?”
That was the only question I liked to answer. “I have a lot of projects right now, and one of them didn’t yield promising results like I’d hoped. I’ve been trying to apply my work on lung cancers to other kinds of cancers, but it’s just not turning out the way I hoped. When I pulled out the antibody—”
“Keep it in stupid terms.”
I sighed. “It’s just not working. I have to think of something else.”
“I have absolute confidence that you will, Deacon.”
I stared at him, unsure how to react to the compliment. My brother and I were only two years apart, but we were vastly different. His intelligence was average, but I’d always been advanced, being studied from the time I was six. I’d skipped a few grades and graduated college when I was eighteen. My advancement allowed me to accomplish a lot in my short lifetime. I was only thirty-two, but sometimes I felt like a man in his fifties, someone who didn’t care about the things people my age cared about.