Page 33 of The Texan's Secrets

“Contribute how?” Her gaze paused on the sofa for a moment before she turned to sit at the meeting table.

He hoped she was having fond memories. His were certainly fond, beyond fond, mind-blowing if he was honest.

He ordered himself to exercise some self-discipline and shook the memories away as he took the chair cornerwise to hers. “Deliver a workshop,” he answered her question.

“On what?”

“Anything. It could be introductory or something more sophisticated. I hate being in front of the camera, but you—”

Her expression faltered, and she went still.

“What?” He’d hoped she’d like the idea.

“You want me to go in front of the camera.”

That was exactly what he’d had in mind. She’d be fantastic. She was beautiful, articulate, animated. Plus, she’d inspire more girls to get involved in the industry.

But he could see the idea unnerved her. “Not necessarily. Not that I don’t think you’d be great. You really would be great.”

She gave a self-conscious laugh. “Well, Iwouldattract a crowd.”

“I bet you would.”

She pressed her lips together and folded her hands on the table. “Nick.”

He waited. “Emilia.”

“I’m...” She seemed to be carrying on a debate inside her head. “Have you ever heard of Emilia Scott?”

Sothatwas where she was going. He was happy, honored that she was willing to share with him.

“Yes, I have.”

“You know she’s a hacker.”

“Top ten in the world.”

She frowned. “I’m not sure how they did the metrics on that.”

“Somebody thought you were very good.”

“Sure, but—” She obviously caught the meaning of his words. “You know?”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t yousaysomething?”

He gave a shrug. The main reason was because he was carrying on his own deception. But he wasn’t anywhere near ready to admit to that. Being a famous hacker was completely different than being an ex-convict. If he shared his truth, he’d lose her, and he wasn’t ready for that.

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” he answered the question honestly, then tried to move the conversation along. “So, what do you think? Are you ready to give back to the students?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, obviously contemplating the question.

He didn’t mean to pressure her. “I know you keep a low profile.” He rattled his way into the bakery bag, slowing down the conversation by setting a muffin on a napkin in front of her. He took the other for himself.

“I do.” She gazed at the muffin. “That thing is huge.”

“Do your best.” He pulled back the wrapper and split his in half.

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