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“When I first started working here, you were worried that I was mad about you ripping off my trial. Why did you think that?”
I shrugged. I didn’t even want to think about Keach right now. “I guess it felt like a big coincidence you came here for this trial.”
“Okay, stand up,” he said as he stepped around his desk.
“What?”
“Stand up, Ramirez.”
This man was acting strangely. “Okay.”
We stood about three feet apart looking at each other.
“Research is a dance,” Hector said.
What the hell?“A dance?” I asked with trepidation.
He nodded and stepped toward me. He took my hand in his and dropped his free hand to my waist. My shoulder blades tightened. “Hector,” I said, “I wasn’t kidding before. I don’t know how to dance.”
“Just humor me.”
“Fine.”
The hand on my waist pulled me toward him, and he stepped back on the same beat. “One researcher takes a step forward, and the next one takes the lead,” he said, then pushed me back with the hand he had in mine. “That doctor spins the research into a twirl, pushing it further...” As he said this, Hector lifted our joined hands over our heads and pushed my waist forcefully until I spun around.
But I hadn’t been lying when I’d told him I couldn’t dance. I almost lost my balance when I landed the spin, and he expertly caught me. I peered at him through my hair—now a mess from the dancing. His eyes darkened as he took my face in, and we stood there, connected for two seconds too many. I wondered if he noticed that I shivered in his arms.
“Everyone can dance,” he said, finally letting go of my hand and waist. “With the right lead,” he added, then threw me the cockiest grin I had ever seen.
The next dayI called him at his office for a consult.
“What time are you off work?” he asked.
“In an hour. Why?”
“Why don’t we go for coffee somewhere and discuss there? Unless the situation is urgent—”
“No. Not urgent. Sure. I know this great place on Westport Road.”
I sent him the address, wrapped up everything I had left to do on my shift, and drove to my favorite family-owned café in town.
When I arrived, Hector was already waiting for me. He wore casual attire, and it worked for him. It worked for him really well. His t-shirt clung to his pectoral muscles in the most enticing way. His brow was furrowed as he turned a page on the book in his hands. Hot men reading was my kryptonite, but I shared that dirty little secret with no one. Not even Sara or Sofia knew that I frequently searched through #hotmenreading accounts on social media.
I needed to stop gawking at him, so I took a deep breath and settled on the seat across from his. “Hello,” I said cheerily.
Hector grabbed a bookmark from the back of the book and held his place.
“What you reading?” He tilted the book to show me the cover.
“East of Eden,” I said. “That’s a great one. First time?”
“Yeah. I’m halfway through. It’s fantastic.”
“Since you haven’t finished, I’ll resist the urge to geek out about it. Don’t want to spoil it.”
“I appreciate that,” Hector said. “Maybe when I’m done?”
“It’s a deal.”
