“You know what I think?” Mav gives me an appraising look. “I think they brought you in to find that out.”
I send my cousin a tight-lipped grin. “You might be right.” I straighten my pens. “Ready to get started?”
“Sure,” he answers, good humor firmly in place. “Why the fuck not?”
I’m so glad I get to start with him.
“I’ll be developing other tests in the field, but for now, I’m giving you what Aunt Hedy lovingly calls the ‘psycho test.’ And since I know you’re not a psycho, this will end up being my baseline score.”
“How do you know I’m not a psycho?” he asks, popping his brows.
“Because it broke your heart when Uncle Eddie’s eyes turned black,” I say softly. “Worst psycho ever.”
Maverick throws his head back, laughing. “Fair.” He gives me hisbring itgesture. “Come on. Gimme the test.”
I shake my head and pull a piece of paper and a pencil from my drawer. “It’s just one sheet, front and back, multiple choice. Don’t overthink it. Just give the first answer that comes to you, and we’ll chat about the results.”
He grimaces as he takes the sheet of paper and the pencil. “You don’t have this on the computer?”
Shit. With everything happening today, I completelywhiffed the accessibility. I dearly wish I’d addressed that instead of diving face-first into Silas’s files.
Also…I don’t want these on the Wimberley mainframe just yet.
“I’m trying to keep this analog for now. Would it help for me to read this aloud to you?”
The tension in his shoulders releases. “That works. I may still need you to repeat a few things, but…it’s multiple choice, right?”
“Yep.”
“Then, yeah, that’ll work.” He scratches his temple. “Also, can you turn away from me while I fill it out? I know you’re going to read my answers right away, I just…”
“I totally understand.”
I grab a copy of the test and spin my chair so I’m facing the wall of windows overlooking the small waterfall at the back of the property.
“Question one…”
Maverick’s test goes well. It’s clear he’s been working on some of his language-processing issues, and it doesn’t take us much extra time at all to get through the questions. As I suspected, he ranks low on the psycho scale.
“Congratulations, you’re a sweetheart.”
He shoots me the finger. “Don’t tell anyone.”
I zip my lips, and he gets up. “I’ve got to get to the next thing on Hedy’s Day of Torture, but let’s smoke some weed out by the pool on Friday.”
“Honestly, a brilliant idea.”
He throws the peace sign as he walks out the door. “See ya later, trauma buddy.”
Just as he clears the door, Holmes appears. Where Maverick was initially a little nervous, Holmes is calm.
He sits in front of me and crosses his arms. His typical steady warmth bleeds out and is replaced by…Huh.
Has this day blitzed my frontal lobe, or is that…ego?
Holmes takes the test from me and answers the questions in his usual efficient style. He slides the paper across the desk with a tiny smirk. I go over his answers. Not believing what I’m seeing, I go over them again. When my eyes meet his, he cocks an eyebrow.
Well shit.
