Page 48 of Doctor Bossy

Leila was at her lab station when I walked in, and she looked up with the same unenthusiastic expression as always, except this time, it was colored by surprise.

“They said you weren’t coming in today,” she said.

“I felt better,” I told her. “And I thought I should come in and make up for the lost time. Sorry for leaving everything on you guys yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She glanced back at her petri dish, her newly styled bob tied securely in a ponytail. “We didn’t even notice you were gone.”

I didn’t miss the acerbic bite to her words but decided to respond with kindness anyway.

“You look great today, by the way,” I said. “Your haircut really suits you.”

She looked at me sharply, then narrowed her eyes as though trying to determine if I was making fun of her. When she decided I wasn’t, she touched her hair, eyeing me uncertainly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, then headed over to my desk. Soon enough, Marco came in, and all three of us had a morning meeting to discuss everything that needed to be done for the day.

“We’re producing enough Terradol to begin human trials,” Leila said. “So everything today will be in preparation for that.”

“Hold on. I thought we failed to get approval from the university?” I regretted it the minute the words left my mouth. The last thing I wanted to do was remind them of my massive screw-up.

Leila eyed me. “It seems they might have reconsidered, given the circumstances. Either way, that’s our task for today. Let’s begin work.”

The meeting was over, and we dispersed back to our working stations. Marco sat on the stool beside me and said, “Hey. Glad you’re feeling better today.” Then, he frowned, giving me a closer look. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think so, at least.”

His smile returned full force. “Good. Wanted to send you some soup from the grocery store yesterday but got caught up with work, and the boss offered to get it to you instead. Did you get it?”

Ah, so that was what that was. Griffin had come in with a flask of soup but then had immediately tasted it and frowned, declaring that it wasn’t good enough. Then he’d thrown it out without even letting me have a bite and proceeded to start on his own soup.

But now that I knew more, I wondered if his hatred for the soup had less to do with its taste and more to do with the fact that Marco sent it.

“I got it,” I said to spare Marco’s feelings. “It was very good. Did its job, as you can see.”

“Yeah. You look great.” He ran his eyes down my body and then back up to my face with a teasing look. “In a totally friendly and non-flirtatious way.”

I laughed and shook my head at him. Now I was seeing why it was so easy for him to move on. I wasn’t sure if Marco had ever liked me in the first place or if he simply liked flirting with me and taking me on a date out of curiosity.

On the other hand, I saw Leila glance our way with disapproval quite a few times. I always thought she did that because we weren’t technically supposed to be chatting so much at work, but now I wondered.

Perhaps there was another reason why she hated seeing us together.

Maybe the same reason why she got that stylish new haircut a few days after Marco and I went on a date.

Plus, I thought it was a little strange because Marco flirted with everything that moved, including the 300-pound married lunch lady who threatened to kick his ass daily, but I had never seen him once attempt to flirt with Leila. Not even a little bit. Maybe he had, and she shut it down, but the lunch lady shut him down enough times too, and it never stopped him. With Leila, he was cooly respectful, maybe even a little standoffish. Could he maybe have feelings for her?

Yeah, or maybe you feel bad for turning him down and want to psychoanalyze them to compensate.

“Becca.”

I felt his voice run through my entire body even before I turned around, hoping the depth of my emotions didn’t show on my face. Griffin was standing there, looking between Marco and me, an oddly jealous expression on his face.

For someone who wanted our relationship to remain a secret, he needed to do something about his facial expressions. It gave it away just a tad.

“My office,” he said as he turned around.

I glanced at Marco, who was giving Griffin’s retreating back a curious look. He turned the silent inquisition to me, but I only shrugged before I left, following Griffin to his office. He was already sitting behind his desk when I got there.

His face was clear in his disapproval. “You were supposed to be resting.”

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