Page 50 of A Smooth Operator

"You're yankin' my chain, aren't ya?" I shook my head. Nerd humor!

Jason looked hurt. "No. I really want to take you out on Saturday. Your last day is Friday, right?"

"I don't understand." I really didn't.

"Well, GeneVerse has the whole no dating at work policy, so, you know as soon as we heard you resigned, I wanted to make sure I got ahead. Did I?" Jason asked eagerly.

I shook my head as if clearing out the cobwebs. Was Jason saying what I thought he was saying? There were guys around GeneVerse who wanted to ask me out?

Jason might be a scientist and wore glasses, but he was kinda cute with his floppy blonde hair and blue eyes. There was a Hugh Grant boyish charm to him. He was no Remi Drake, but then maybe I'd had enough of the bad boy in my bed and life because all that had left me with was a whole lot of hurt.

"You're the first," I mumbled.

"Great." Jason looked pleased with himself. "So, what do you say?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Sure. Can I have your phone number?"

"It's in the company directory. It's my personal mobile, so the number won't change after I leave," I told him, feeling very confused.

"Great. Great. Nice seeing you, Dr. Andersen. Echo, I'll text you so you have my number. I thought we could go to the planetarium and then have dinner. I heard you once say you like the…you know…universe stuff."

I smiled. "Thanks, Jason."

"Universe stuff? Really?" Martin rolled his eyes after Jason left. "Look what you've done. First, you leave my lab, and now I have to compete with a bunch of nerds after you."

I stiffened. "What?"

Martin winked at me. "If you resign, we'll have that talk. But I'm really hoping that between Teresa, Dallas, and a few others we've recruited, we'll convince you to stay."

I took a deep breath after Martin went back to his office.

My lips curved for the first time since that horrible night—and I smiled genuinely, feeling something else besides hurt and humiliation. People at work liked me. They wanted me to stay. And if I left, they wanted to date me.

When had this happened? And why was it that I was just finding out about it?

"I'll be honest, hon, we don't want you to leave. I know Dallas already offered a raise and all that, but you turned it down. So, what's it you want, girl?" Teresa ran a finger over the top of her wine glass absently.

I want to go back in time and not have sex with Remi Drake. I want to stop myself from going to Paint the Town Red that night when I heard him call me a fat bitch, a leech, and a charity case. I want someone to love me.

"I just think it's time for a change." I wore my plastic smile, the one that I learned to wear with social workers, well-meaning teachers, the Drakes, and Aunt Fern.

It was just after six on a breezy Tuesday evening, and we were at Flight Restaurant and Wine Bar, a cozy upscale bar nestled in the heart of downtown Memphis close to Remi's club.

The bar, with its intimate lighting and warm wooden accents, was both welcoming and exclusive. We sat at a small, round table near the expansive windows that offered a view of the bustling street outside.

Teresa took a contemplative sip of a Napa Chardonnay, its pale golden color catching the light.

I'd chosen a Riesling, crispy, slightly fruity—perfect for a warm day.

"You know Dallas and I are friends."

I nodded. I'd heard that.

"We were in university together," she continued as I took a sip of my wine. "He talks to me. You leaving has got to do with his kid?"

The wine went down the wrong pipe, and it took me a minute of coughing to get my breathing under control.

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