Chapter 3

Becka

All through the lecture I was completely distracted. Having coffee with Oliver had been so much more amazing than I could have imagined. He seemed impressed with my studies and how I saw my future, but, more, I had full permission to look at him for over an hour. To watch his eyes as he listened, to notice if he had any nervous habits or not—I didn’t see any—and to be in his space.

When he invited me to continue the evening after his lecture with a cocktail, I nearly died. I’m sure my face blushed bright red, as it did any time I thought about him.
Tonight’s focus was on corporations who attempt to undermine the research of companies like Neuotova by destroying research, hacking into the computer system, or even breaking into buildings and damaging test subjects or equipment.

Oliver gravely stated that the people who do these crimes often believe they’re helping a greater good, but, really, they’re doing more damage to the entire human race. It was a pretty sobering lecture, and it made sense why he had started with a history of Neuotova and moved on from there.

The organization of his presentation was impressive. I’d heard other guest lecturers who were business people but were clearly not teachers. I thought that Oliver probably could have been a really great teacher if he hadn’t wanted to be a millionaire.

And was he a millionaire? Or was he a billionaire? Did I go to coffee with a billionaire tonight? I looked down at my jeans, with tears in both knees and one in my upper thigh. Yes, I probably did, I thought.

***

After the lecture ended, I sat and waited for Oliver. Each night more students, mostly female, had gathered to ask him questions. I noticed that several girls were also there the night before, asking different questions. I shook my head. He glanced up at me a few times, smiling, and, of course, I couldn’t help but smile back. I felt excitement surging through my body every time he looked up. I was feeling nervous, more nervous for the drink than I had felt for the coffee, and I didn’t think that was possible.

When the group had dissipated and the last of the giggling girls had gathered their bags and left the lecture hall, Oliver, Dr. Evans, and I remained.

“Oh, good,” Dr. Evans said. “You were able to meet.”

“Yes,” Oliver said. “Your student is quite fascinating.” He looked over at me and smiled.

“I knew that you would be impressed. She’s our best.”

“We’re actually going out for a glass of wine to continue a conversation we started earlier, would you like to join us?” Oliver asked.

I felt my eyes widen and my skin flush again. He was inviting Dr. Evans along? That was fine, of course, but…that would insure that he did not think we were on a date. I crossed my fingers and hoped she would refuse.

“I’d love to, but…” she hesitated. “Well, okay, maybe just one.”

“Great,” I said.

We all agreed to meet at a bar that was fairly close to campus, and was actually on my way home. The whole way there I tried to get myself to be okay with the fact that Dr. Evans was coming along. Tried to remind myself that it wasn’t a big deal.

She was my professor and I liked her, and Oliver and I were not on a date. He was probably interviewing me for a position with his company at best, and was using me to get to Dr. Evans at worst. Either way, I couldn’t do anything about it. What I could do, though, was stop fantasizing about capturing the affections of a billionaire.

When I got to the bar, Dr. Evans and Oliver were already there. They had taken a table outside and were seated across from each other at a table for four. I grabbed the seat between them, and we ordered a bottle of red to share.

Dr. Evans and Oliver spent some of the time talking about the lectures; Dr. Evans was, as I had been, impressed with his skills as a teacher and presenter. I contributed to the conversation as I could, but mostly I tried to get a read on if there was chemistry between Oliver and Dr. Evans. I didn’t sense anything, but, of course, I didn’t really know one way or the other. We finished the bottle and the server came by to ask if we wanted another.

“You two can have another if you’d like,” Dr. Evans said, “but I’m going to beg off and head home. I’ve got an eight o’clock class tomorrow morning and too much red wine doesn’t mix well with that.” She smiled and took out her wallet.

“Oh, please, Amy, I’ll get the wine,” Oliver said, half standing and reaching his hand out to indicate Dr. Evans should put her wallet away.

“Well, thank you! I’ll see you both tomorrow night!” She waved to both of us and walked to her car.

Oliver turned to me. “I hope it was okay that I invited her along. I wanted to make sure that, if she heard that we were out together, that she knew it was innocent.”

“Innocent,” I repeated. “Of course.”

He took my hand in his and leaned in toward me. “Plus, it gave me some time to look at you while she was talking.” He smiled and I felt arousal move through me, from his warm hand all the way to the space between my legs, which was growing wet with excitement at his touch.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. I felt my skin burning up.

“You’re very cute when you’re flustered,” he said. “You blush from your chest,” he reached out and touched the very top of my cleavage, “to the tip of your nose.” His index finger lightly tapped my nose and we both laughed. It cut the tension immediately and I relaxed.

“I know I do. It’s such a pain in the ass. It happens any time I drink wine, mess something up, or if I’m nervous or angry. So, basically, it happens all the time.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to give the rest of the world a little window into what’s inside your head,” Oliver said. “If I had that, I would never be able to be in the job I’m in now. A poker face is essential, and, if I had any tells at all, I had to get rid of them long ago.”

We ordered another bottle of wine and, by the time we finished it, I was facing a long ride home on my bicycle.

“Let me drive you home,” he said. “Or, better yet, would you like to come to my place?”

I stared at him. He was so confusing! First inviting Dr. Evans out with us, though his reasoning had seemed sound, but he was now inviting me over to his house?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go home with you,” I said slowly, “but I’d definitely appreciate a ride. But what about my bike?”

“I’ll have someone bring it by your place tomorrow morning, it’ll be no trouble at all.”

I nodded, feeling my head swimming from the wine and all of the excitement of the time with Oliver.

He linked my arm through his and, after paying the bill, he walked me to his car and got me settled in the passenger seat. As he walked to the driver’s side, I rolled my eyes. Great, I thought. You go out with a billionaire and you get drunk. Nice work.

As we drove, he began to whistle. It was a song I’d never heard before, and I thought about asking him what it was, but I didn’t want him to stop. It was a very soothing sound. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the passenger side window.

I thought about inviting him up. Lisa was off on a research assignment in the northern part of the state. She wouldn’t be back until Sunday.

I looked over at him, contemplating how the invitation would sound if I said it out loud.

“Yes?” Oliver asked.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re staring at me,” he said.

“Sorry,” I said. “And I’m sorry I had too much wine. I feel like I made a lousy impression on you.”

He pulled over in front of my building, having followed the directions I’d given him to a T. He put the car in park and looked at me.

“You’re not drunk,” he said. “You’re still speaking quite clearly. If anything, you’re comfortably buzzed. It happens all the time. Do you need help upstairs to your apartment?”

That was my chance, the opportunity to invite him up. But, I didn’t want him to think I needed help, that I was so drunk I couldn’t get upstairs by myself.

“No,” I said, trying to speak as articulately as I could. “I’m fine. Thank you so much for a fun evening. It was really nice to talk with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Becka,” he said in a low voice. Then, he got out of the car on his side and came around to the passenger door, opening it and holding his hand out for me to help me out. Holding my hand, he leaned over and brushed his lips against my cheek as I stood. My body heated immediately from his touch.

“Thank you,” I said again, and, before he could say anything else, I walked quickly up my stairs and into my building.

I collapsed onto my bed in my clothes and stared at the ceiling, waiting for it to start to spin. His touch was absolutely magnetic, and I could still feel my skin tingling from where he had touched me. I drew my hand to my cheek, feeling the spot he had kissed. I fell asleep that way, and didn’t wake up until nearly nine o’clock the next morning.