Max scowls, clearly annoyed.
I try not to find it sexy. It’s hard.
It’s even harder not to enjoy that I bested him. And that I surprised him.
Frankly, it’s kind of a miracle that I have the energy for either of those things after the twenty-four hours I’ve had. And probably a sign of just how dangerous Max is.
Because he should not be as distracting as he is.
Determined to stay focused, I rattle off the explanation before he can ask. “I knew eventually I would need to return the soil samples and figured it would be easier if I could get in whenever I needed to. Besides, I didn’t know you’d be here today. I thought I could just slip in and leave them for you.” He’s still glaring at my key card, so I add, “Don’t worry, I’ll have access to your lab removed from my card on Monday.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“Since you are here—” I reach into my bag and pull out the other thing I have for him and place it on the counter. “I might as well give you this.”
He picks up the file folder and flips through it.
I don’t wait for him to ask about it. “It’s a speech I wrote for you.”
“This is about my research.”
“It wouldn’t be a very good speech if it wasn’t.” He continues to flip through the pages, pausing to read every so often. “I’ve been working on the speech with Gwen and Priya. I asked one of my students who studies graphic design to do the slides.”
He holds up a page and points to a paragraph in the middle. “This bit right here. Those are my words. My exact words.”
I nod. “Yes. Yesterday evening while I was cutting your hair, I recorded our conversation. I didn’t tell you I was doing it because I thought it would make you nervous. I needed to hear you talk about your work while you were distracted. I had already written the bulk of the speech with help from Gwen and Priya based on some of your published papers. But I needed to hear you talk to get the cadence right.”
He’s still frowning. “I don’t understand.”
“Look, you need to submit a taped speech to the committee. I wrote it for you. Abby did the slides. A former student from the media department is going to film it and do the editing. I have a couple dozen student volunteers who will sit in the audience. All you have to do is memorize the speech and show up on Monday night wearing the suit Rodrigo will deliver to your house on Monday morning. You’ll be able to submit it to the committee by the end of the week.”
“You recorded our conversation?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“And didn’t mention it? Is that legal?”
“Since I’m not planning on submitting it to a court of law, I don’t think it matters.”
“This was a lot of work,” he says.
I just shrug. His field of research is dense and complicated, but Gwen and Priya broke down anything I didn’t easily grasp. “I’ve emailed you a digital copy of both of those, in case you need to tweak things. You should read it over and make sure we got all the details right.”
He flips back to the first page and starts to read.
I stand there for just a moment watching him, my heart pounding faster than it should. Then I turn and leave.
I make it almost out the door when he says, “I don’t understand.”
I turn back, ready to explain again, but the folder is closed now and he’s not looking at the speech anymore.
“About what?”
“How much did you hear of my conversation with Clive?”
His question surprises me and I have no idea how to answer it. How to admit that I stood there listening to them talk about me, hoping . . . Hoping what? That he would say something that might help me understand what happened last night?
Because I have no idea what to say, I just shrug. “Some.”
