Page 85 of Not in Love

“You look tired. Is everything okay?”

“No. I’ve been sleeping poorly.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Florence told me reassuringly. “These things are just formalities. Go get some rest—you remain my best employee. Want a raise?”

“Always.”

“I’ll talk to accounting.”

I chuckled, unfolded my legs, and made myself ask, “The Harkness situation. Is it solved?”

My question seemed to surprise her. “What do you mean?”

“The investors to buy back the loan, did they come through?”

“Not yet. Close, though.”

“What’s the holdup?”

“Usual bureaucratic shit.” She shrugged. “No need to worry.”

“And then they’ll be out of our hair?”

“I hope so.”

“Did you . . .” I swallowed. “Did you know that the Harkness founders are chemical engineers? At UT. Grad students in the department when you still taught there.”

Florence was briefly motionless. Then she picked up a pen, clicked it twice, and put it down again. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I looked them up online.” Not false, but not the whole truth. I wish I could have said that Eli was forcing me to hide things from Florence, but I needed to take accountability. It was my own inability to stay away from him that had turned me into a liar. “Is it possible that you crossed paths? Briefly, maybe? They were working on biofuels, too.”

More stillness. Another shrug, stiff this time. “No. Categorically, no. I would remember if we had.”

Why are you denying this so vehemently? Why does it feel like you’re hiding something?

“Rue, is this . . . Has Eli Killgore contacted you? Put strange ideas in your head?”

I shook my head. Who’s hiding something now, Rue?

“Listen, I can tell that you’re nervous about Harkness. And I appreciate that you worry about me. But there is absolutely no need to research these people.” She leaned closer, so close that her green eyes shone. Her cold hand took mine. “I know that this whole legal business is unsettling, and maybe it’s making you second-guess things you know. But the truth is, when I was at UT, I worked so hard on my tech, in off-campus labs, that I barely showed up in the department. And if I’ve crossed paths with Harkness before . . . well, that explains why they’re targeting Kline so aggressively. Maybe they’ve been keeping their eyes on us all these years, waiting to pounce. But them knowing me doesn’t mean that I knew them, and honestly, they’re dicks. I don’t care to know where they’re from, or what their story is. I just want them gone from my life.”

It made sense. So much sense, all my questions were answered. So much sense, I turned my palm and squeezed hers. “I get it,” I said, feeling a million pounds lighter than when I’d entered this office. “And you’re right.”

Florence’s lips stretched into a reassuring smile. “Stop worrying, okay? I’ve got it all under control.”

I nodded. Stood, almost lightheaded from relief. Made it to the door.

“Rue,” Florence called. I looked at her from over my shoulder. “It’s getting long again.”

“What is?”

Florence pointed to the left side of her own head. “Your undercut. Might be time to trim it again.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

“Where does time go?”

I had no answer. So I smiled my goodbyes, and went back to my office, putting the matter out of my head—until that night, when I got into my car and heard a weird sound.

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