Page 22 of The Omega Project

“Seriously?” There wasn’t anything in the contract about a company car. I thought those kinds of perks were for shiny sales executives. “That seems a bit over the top.”

Langston clicks his tongue at me, his hand touching the middle of my back as we enter the elevator. “It just makes good business sense. Having your own transportation means you can be here longer.”

It still seems pretty extravagant, but Derek doesn’t have a car, either, so I guess this way we can carpool, saving us both time and money.

As we step out onto the security floor, I realise I still haven’t talked to Langston about the study part of this arrangement. My contract says I’m paid for all hours worked in a week, but two days are ringfenced for my thesis. Given that I’m taking on Soren’s daily routine, I can imagine my hours quickly blowing out. I hate to cut ties with my other employers, since neither the bookstore nor the pub will hold my position for three months, but there’s no way I can juggle three jobs, my PhD, and my family life.

“Ready to go home?” Creed asks, walking towards us in his black suit. He nods towards the same stretch Hummer we arrived in, but Langston shakes his head.

“Can you set Emily up with a vehicle? She’s been asking about bus routes.”

Creed turns his dark eyes my way, his thick brows knotted in disapproval. “Buses don’t come out to the industrial area. I’ll set you up with a car, but not until tomorrow. You’re too tired to drive right now.”

I blink at this high-handed assessment of me, but Langston just laughs. “Creed’s not known for holding back when it comesto his safety rules.” He strips off his suit jacket, rolling it into a ball as he walks over to another red and black motorbike, only this one is sinfully sleek. “I’d give you a ride home, but it’s only built for one.”

“That’s because the Superleggera is the only street-legal bike with a carbon fibre frame.” I don’t bother trying to disguise the awe in my voice. This is a limited-edition superbike that most riders would kill to get their hands on, even if it was just to stroke that unbelievably light chassis. “If this is a company perk, where do I sign up?”

Langston’s grin only grows at the look on Creed’s face. “He disapproves of two-wheeled vehicles. Don’t let him get you in a quiet corner, or he’ll talk your ear off about the lack of safety features, and the likelihood of ending your days as a smear on the pavement.”

“Lang!” Creed barks, sounding every bit the drill sergeant. “Not the time and place.”

Langston just gives us a wave and pulls on his helmet, while Creed walks me over to the stretch Hummer, before turning and pointing to a black Mercedes. “My personal car is over there, if you’d prefer.”

“Ooh, that’s pretty.” I know less about cars than bikes, but I recognise the luxury logo on the front.This one probably even has seat warmers.

“I’ve had it adapted to include a reinforced chassis, bulletproof glass, a self-sealing fuel tank, and the underbody is a blend of steel and carbon-fibre. It’s bombproof, under most conditions.”

“Prettyandsafe,” I amend, earning a small smile as he clicks the remote. But when he goes to open the back door, I slide around him and climb into the front passenger seat. “I’m tired, not a toddler. I don’t need to curl up in the back.”

He grunts, but gets behind the wheel, and we leave the heavily reinforced garage without a lot of fuss. As expected, the seats are buttery cream leather and the dash glows with a warm blue light. Creed’s car isn’t just safe, it’s soothing, and I have to fight heavy eyelids to stop myself from drifting off to sleep.

Exactly like a pooped-out toddler, I realise.

“You really like bikes?”

I sit up straighter, rubbing at my tired eyes. “My sister and all her friends were into them when we were growing up. They were very cool to a young girl, so I hoped that liking what they liked would make me cool by association.” I snort at the memory. “Now it’s more books than bikes, but a girl can still dream.”

“Don’t forget the bees. Why did you choose them?”

“Now onthattopic, I really could get you in a quiet corner and talk your ear off…” I realise that might sound a little flirtier than I meant it and clear my throat. “I guess the short answer is because bee populations are under threat in this country. Habitat loss, intensive farming practices, pests, and disease are all having a negative impact. And yet 65% of our crops need honeybees to reproduce. They’re what we call powerhouse pollinators.”

“It’s important work.”

“So is what I’m doing here.” I peek at him carefully, wondering if it’s too soon to bring up Soren. “I’ve started going through the background documentation, but I’d really like to get your perspective when you’re ready.”

There’s no missing the tightness across his shoulders, or the firm grip he has on the wheel, but he gives me a curt nod. “Okay. Maybe not tonight, but we could set something up tomorrow.” I must look surprised by his cooperation, because he shrugs. “I’ve got a lot invested in this. If I can help in any way, I’m all yours.”

Words that convince me to close my eyes, because I don’t really want Creed watching me right now. There’s just toomuch going on in my head about everything I’ve seen and learned today. With so much heartache involved, it’s hard to feel hopeful, and while the scientist in me is intrigued, the rest of me just feels raw. I’m not surprised my brain chooses to retreat from it all, but I’m not expecting to wake up with my head cradled on Creed’s shoulder, the car dark and quiet around us. There’s a slight crick in my neck from the awkward position, but I feel toasty warm, mainly because Creed has covered me in his black jacket.

“Oh, God. Sorry.” I jerk upright and blink in the dim light, trying to make sense of why we’re sitting in a stationary car. “What’s going on?”

“You fell asleep on my shoulder.”

“Seriously? While you were driving?” I bet that failed his safety standards, big time. “Shit, it’s nearly two in the morning. Have you really been sitting here that long?”

“Yep, because so has he.” His voice is grim as he nods towards a familiar car parked across the street from us. There’s a streetlight right next to it, and the sickly yellow light provides a perfect view of Rick’s furious face. “And I get the feeling your ex is about to do something he’s really going to regret.”

Creed

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