Christmas Chemistry - Page 17

“Sir.”

“Yes?”

“This is Lancaster. We don’t deliver.”

I frown. How is that possible? “Everyone delivers.”

“No, sir, we don’t. This is a small town, and we only have four employees. No one—”

“How much?”

“How much what?”

“How much to get you to deliver my groceries?”

“Sir, I—”

“A thousand?”

“A thousand dollars?”

“Yeah.” I glance at the clock. After I arrange for the groceries, I guess we need to pack. Should we be going today or tomorrow? That might depend on when the food gets delivered.

“When do you want the goods to be delivered?”

“What works best for you?”

“The store closes at ten tonight.”

“Sounds good. Make sure all the cold goods are packed on ice. I prefer organic, if possible. Fruits, vegetables, meats, desserts, anything else you would need for an extended stay that includes a holiday meal. Here’s my card.” I rattle off the numbers and hang up. That task is taken care off.

Kayla walks in.

“I’m closing up shop.”

“Already?”

“There’s no reason to delay. Our work will wait.” I give her coat a shake. “I hear there’s a storm coming, so we should get going.”

“Let me run down to the breakroom. There’s extra cake there, and I want to take it home.” She darts out of the room before I tell her that she’s not going home, but I suppose if she wants cake, she can bring it to the cabin.

I put my coat on, throw my bag over my shoulder, and head out to the waiting room. Rachel’s gone from her desk, so I grab a post-it and jot down that we’re leaving. As I stick it on her computer, I hear a voice drift out of Dean Campbell’s office. Hopefully, he’s not in there getting his rod sucked because I’m not prepared to deal with a new dean so soon after Monahan got sacked. Department changes always result in an interruption in my work. I’m about to leave when I hear my name.

“Amherst doesn’t…”

Do I care what they are saying about me? No, not really. I take a step toward the breakroom when another name filters out. Kayla.

I back up and wait.

“I think there’s something going on between the two,” says Rachel.

“Between Dr. Amherst and Kayla, his new research assistant?” squawks another woman in disbelief. Her voice sounds familiar. Maybe a former student? I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before, but I can’t really recall because who remembers people who are unimportant? “No way. I hit on him all during my term, and he had zero interest in me. I even saw him outside the Mo Bow bakery, and he looked as if he’d never seen me before. I sat in the front row and wore skirts so short that my ass was always resting on those dirty cloth seats, but I did it for him. It’s depressing when I think about it.”

“Why’d you come back then?” queries Rachel.

“Because now that I’m not a student of his anymore, I thought I’d re-introduce myself. I mean, how many guys as smart as Dr. Amherst look like him? I’m surprised there isn’t a line.”

“Oh, there is, but we manage to get rid of most of them. He hates all the attention, but with Kayla he’s totally different. He listens to her,” Rachel declares.

Well, of course I listen to Kayla. She’s always saying interesting things.

“But she’s his assistant. If they get caught...well, the university would fire them. Remember Monahan?”

“No. They would never fire Amherst. He’s too valuable. His patents give the university so much prestige that they’d never give him up. Monahan got fired because he was dead weight. What will happen is that Kayla will be accused of trying to take advantage of him, and then she’ll be kicked out of the program and basically blackballed. I should warn her, honestly.”

“Please do and then call me so I can come back and offer my naked shoulder for Dr. Amherst to cry on,” the girl jokes.

I scowl and back away. Kayla could get kicked out of the program and blackballed? That’s fucked up.

“Are you ready?” Kayla chirps over my shoulder.

I spin around and take in her beautiful face, her sexy body, and her bright, brilliant eyes. I need this woman. I need her more than I can breathe, but I also don’t want to be the instrument of her destruction.

“I got my cake.” She lifts up a tin-foil wrapped plate.

“I can’t go to Lancaster,” I inform her.

Her face falls. “We can’t?”

Oh hell. At least she can go. I’ll drop her off and she can eat all the food while I come back here and work. That way she gets to have some semblance of Christmas. “I was wrong. Come. I’m taking you to the cabin.”

“Right now?”

I grab her elbow. “Right now.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I reply sharply. “It’s either now or never.”

“Wow. I guess now,” she says in a subdued voice.

I’ve already fucked things up, and we haven’t even gotten out of the department. Did I say I had a good plan? What a massive idiot I am.

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