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It’s the exact same thing I had been trying to do just seconds ago.
Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what I felt when the door to the bathroom swung open to reveal a woman. But whatever feeling it was didn’t last long when I felt her gaze on me. I only had to look up and see her for me to be entranced.
Everything about her is majestic; there is an appeal to her, a wildness in those lovely green eyes that flash with desire. How flushed her pearly skin appeared to be as she drank me in, told me just how badly she wanted me.
I have no idea what it is about her, after all I’ve met loads of women in my fifty-one years of life, but I had felt a jolt of electricity streak through my veins as soon as I touched her delicate skin.
The urge to release her silky blonde hair from the tight bun she wrapped it into had been suddenly overwhelming. I had wondered how soft and pliant her curvaceous body would feel against mine. I knew kissing her would make me lose whatever control I usually have and cherish, but I didn’t care. I was going to kiss her anyway, until Ava interrupted us.
Of course, the woman I feel an instant attraction to is my daughter’s friend. The universe has a way of laughing right in my face.
Ava stares between us and the confusion in her dark eyes is clear. “What are you two doing in here?” she asks.
I shove my hands in my pockets, ready to answer when Charlotte hastily cuts in.
“I went into the wrong bathroom by mistake and I…”
Ava’s hand flies to her mouth and the confusion gives way to amusement as she tries and fails to smother her laughter. “I’m sorry,” she wheezes out. “I’m just trying to picture it and I can imagine how embarrassed you two must have been.”
I want to tell her she’s wrong, that embarrassment isn’t one of the things I felt when her friend’s eyes trailed every inch of my body including my most intimate part. If anything, I wanted her to look her fill and then replace those eyes with her touch. But I keep my mouth shut, knowing full well that being involved in any way with my daughter’s friend is inappropriate.
“Anyway… Charlie, meet Christopher Young, my father,” Ava introduces us and comes to stand beside me.
For the first time since our encounter in the bathroom, Charlotte turns to me with a gaping mouth and eyes widened with surprise. She sputters as those green eyes hold mine hostage. Finally, she manages to get out the words, “Your father is Christopher Young?”
Does she know me? I mean, all of New York probably does considering I’m one of the city’s wealthiest billionaires. I also happen to own several labs in the field of science for the purpose of research and discovery. If Charlotte is anything like my daughter, she must have heard of me once or twice.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? I didn’t want you to feel weird about applying for the undersea fellowship. If you had known he’s my dad and you had ended up getting in, you’d have felt like you only got in because of me, I know it.” Ava explains.
My head reels with the information I just heard. Charlotte Wilson is one of the few PhD candidates in aquatic microbiology that applied for my undersea fellowship. What’s even more shocking is that I remember her name, because she is the only one to have gotten it. We just haven’t sent out the email yet, because my team and I are still working on getting a lot of things in order.
All of a sudden, I see her in a new light. Not just as a young attractive woman, but as an incredibly intelligent one as well. Her proposal had completely blown my mind, keeping me on the edge of my seat the entire time I was reading it. I could practically taste her eagerness and love for the ocean in the paper.
She had been the only one to possess what I truly wanted. Not just a person interested in the research aspect, but also with a passion for the ocean and its environment. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate to spend months in a high-tech lab beneath the sea with no complaints of boredom or being homesick.
“I’m so sorry,” Charlotte speaks up, her eyes lowered to her feet. “I had no idea who you were and I didn’t expect you to look anything like…” Her head snaps up as if suddenly realizing what she was about to say.
Ava simply grins like she knows something no one else knows. “Charlie absolutely adores you by the way. She’s obsessed with the Christopher Young who completely revolutionized the field of microbiology.”
I raise her brow, my eyes still on Charlotte. “Is that so?” I ask and watch as her cheeks turn a delicious red. Briefly, I wonder what other parts of her can produce that color.
Ava slaps me in the arm. “This is exactly why you should have your pictures in the media, so people can stop calling you the ghost of microbiology.”
“The people who need to know what I look like already do.” I mumble much to my daughter’s irritation.
Once upon a time, I had my face plastered all over the media because everyone thought I was embezzling funds when it was really my wife with the aid of her lover. Everywhere I went, flashes of cameras accompanied me until I developed anxiety whenever I felt a flash in my face. I almost lost everything.
The reporters hadn’t just stopped at taking unsolicited pictures and videos of me, they had harassed my daughter as well. They would perform a stake out in front of her school, waiting patiently until it was time to pick her up.
On top of that, Zoe had wanted custody of our child, painting me in a bad light every chance she got. When she lost both cases, she completely disappeared off the grid and never showed her face again. But I know she has been trying to contact Ava, even though my daughter has been mute and secretive about it.
I know it’s because she doesn’t want to hurt me or make me relive those excruciating memories, but I wish she didn’t have to endure it all alone. As an unspoken rule, we never talk about what happened back then. Whenever I brought it up, Ava always shut it down completely.
When the case eventually came to an end and I was declared innocent, I made it a point to scrub the internet clean of every picture and video of Ava and me. Although as she got older her social media presence grew out of her own accord, mine has remained the same.
The ghost of microbiology, that’s what they call me. I don’t mind it, as long as it remains that way.
“Are you two here for the conference?” I ask them, my eyes still fixated on Charlotte. I can feel her embarrassment and it’s clear how badly she wants to get out of here, but for some reason, I want her to stay a little bit longer.
