For one stunned second, she stared cross-eyed at the wall, then exploded backward in excitement.
“I DID IT!”
She blurred across the room and launched herself at me before I could brace for it. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders while her laughter burst against my neck.
“Now you have to take me to the S&G floor!”
The pride that hit me was embarrassingly strong.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, trying not to smile too much. “You earned it.”
I took her upstairs, and the second we entered the S&G department, all composure left her body entirely.
She darted from shelf to shelf so fast she nearly made herself dizzy, grabbing parts, holding them up, and spinning back to me every thirty seconds.
“Can I touch this?”
“Yes.”
“What about this one?”
“Yes.”
“Ooooh—what does THIS do?”
“I don’t know, probably explode.”
She gasped excitedly, and eventually I gave up on trying to supervise.
“You can touch anything on this floor,” I told her.
That was apparently all the permission she needed. Within minutes, she’d built herself a massive pile of parts on one of the worktables and immediately started assembling something.
And then she disappeared into it. Completely. So focused you would think she was creating life itself.
I just sat there and watched, mesmerized by her, making note of all the stages of her process.
Her bottom lip stayed trapped between her teeth while she focused. Every time something didn’t fit right, she cursed under her breath viciously enough to make me snort. When something failed completely, she slammed her fist onto the table hard enough to rattle tools.
Then she’d freeze, take one frustrated breath, and immediately start taking it apart again.
She was constantly adjusting, improving, trying. Nothing kept her down for longer than five seconds. There was something special about her, a beautiful relentlessness that I could watch for days.
Leaning against the table, watching her work, the thought hit me naturally.
After we settled everything with Manshu, I was going to talk to Rack again about finding her a place here. Worst-case scenario, we could make her a contractor. That way she could come and go as she pleased. It wouldn’t hurt that I’d get first dibs on her inventions while she was paid for the rights.
She’d thrive here.
And more than anything, I wanted her to be happy in her life. I wanted Rack happy too. Even if their happiness didn’t really include me.
That ache twisted through my chest again, but I swallowed it down.
I could make this work. Being near her like this, it had to be enough. Helping could be enough, right?
A bead of sweat slowly rolled down her temple while she leaned over her latest project, angrily muttering at a screw.
My hand instinctively twitched toward her.Wipe it away. Touch her.
