Page 5 of One Reckless Night

“Of course,” I said, walking her to the door. “It was nice meeting you, Clair. Thank you for coming to see me. I appreciate that I’ll have a friendly face when I get to Welch Labs. I’ll see you soon?”

“Looking forward to it,” she said with a smile. “Get some rest, Amelia. You’ve got a big week ahead.”

I closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. At least Clair’s kindness had cancelled out Jared’s obnoxious attitude. But the mention of family had stirred up emotions I’d been trying to ignore.

I crossed the room and dug through my suitcase until I found the information packet about the memory care facility in Miami. I’d been carrying it with me for weeks, ever since I’d made the decision to move to the States. My mother’s condition had been deteriorating rapidly, and I’d been desperate to find a place that could give her the care she needed. This facility had come highly recommended, but it was expensive—more than I could afford on my salary back in England. Still, I’d been hopeful that the position at Welch Labs would change that. I wanted to help her.

I thumbed through the pages of the brochure with a heavy heart. The glossy photos of smiling residents and state-of-the-art facilities felt like a cruel joke. How could I possibly afford this? And even if I could, would it be enough to give my mother the life she deserved? Would it change anything?

I tossed the packet onto the bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. My mind wandered back to the awards ceremony, to Jared Welch and his infuriating smirk. I’d spent years idolizing him, reading every paper he’d published, following every breakthrough he’d made. But the man I’d met tonight was nothing like the hero I’d imagined.

Was this really the man I’d uprooted my life for? Was this really the dream I’d been chasing?

As I lay there, I thought about my mother’s face the last time I’d visited her in the care home. She’d been sitting by the window, sunlight streaming in, but her eyes had been distant, unfocused. She’d looked so small, so fragile, like she was already halfway to somewhere else. I’d tried to talk to her, to tell her about the job in Florida, but she’d just smiled vaguely and said, “Your father always loved the sea.”

It broke my heart every time. And yet, it was moments like those that fueled my determination to make a difference in neuroscience—to find a way to help people like her reclaim the pieces of themselves they’d lost.

Jared Welch crept back into my mind. Despite his arrogance, there was no denying his brilliance. His work had already changed countless lives. Maybe there was something I could learn from him. Or maybe he was just another obstacle to navigate. Either way, I wasn’t about to let him derail me. If I could use this job and his resources to help people, then nothing else mattered.

The next morning, at half past six, I woke to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. With blurry eyes and a fuzzy head, I rolled over and swatted around trying to find my phone to silence my alarm. When that failed, I realized it wasn’t my alarm but a notification. I sat up groggily, unplugged my phone, and squinted at the glare coming off my screen. I had an email from Welch Labs.

My stomach plummeted. Had they changed their minds? Was my dream job about to be pulled out from under me before it even started?

I opened the email with trembling fingers, my heart racing as I read the message. It was short and to the point: my chartered flight to the lab had been rescheduled to later that evening to accommodate a few other passengers. That was it. No explanation, no apology, just a cold, clinical update.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and flopped back onto the bed. So, my job was safe—for now. So was my mother’s placement at the care facility. A delayed flight was no big deal.

Acutely aware of the fact that all these moving pieces were being held together by fate, which could betray me at any second, I got moving and ready for the day. There was no sense lying in a dark hotel room waiting for my flight while the hours ticked by, even if that was what I was compelled to do. In her earlier and clearer years, my mother would have told me to get out and explore—to see what the city had to offer before it was in my rear-view mirror. I felt like I owed her that.

My shower perked me up, and by the time I’d dried my hair and got dressed, my stomach had started to rumble. I wandered downstairs to the hotel restaurant, where a gangly server with giant glasses and an unruly head of hair brought me to a window table for one. He handed me an obnoxiously large menu and rattled off the breakfast specials in a monotone voice that rivaled some of my medical school professors.

When he was done, he blinked expectantly at me. “Are you ready to order?”

I looked from him to my menu, then back up at him. “Um, I need a few minutes, please.”

He sighed. “I’ll be back.”

Yikes. Was this the kind of service I could expect in America? A clearly stoned kid with lackluster enthusiasm and, I noticed as he walked away, a stain on the rear end of his pants? God, I didn’t want to know what that was.

Feeling every bit the fish out of water that I was, I decided to order the eggs benedict, a classic American breakfast I’d heard plenty about but never tried. When it arrived, I poked at the egg until golden yolk poured out onto the plate, and I took a delicate first bite, unsure what to expect.

My eyebrows lifted. “Not bad.” I took another bite. “Not bad at all.”

Even if everything went belly up from then on, at least I could say I enjoyed a good American breakfast.

And that I’d met Jared Welch face to face.

Despite how much he’d rubbed me the wrong way, I couldn’t deny that he’d left an impression. A bad one, admittedly, but an impression nonetheless. His annoying smirk still played in my mind whenever I closed my eyes. Dangerously brilliant, obnoxiously charming, and impossibly egotistical.

I couldn’t let him distract me from my work at Welch Labs. This was my big break—and perhaps the big break for those who would benefit from the success of my research. I owed it to them and to myself to stay focused.

Jared Welch was off limits.