Laws of Attraction by Sarah Title (7)

Chapter Six

“It’s him! Foster Deacon is him,” Becky whispered violently into her phone.

“What? Foster who is who? Are you in a tunnel?” Dakota’s voice sounded only a little alarmed, which, for Dakota, was a lot.

“I’m in the bathroom,” Becky told her.

“Gross.”

“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m just . . . hold on.” She listened to what sounded like the door opening. She poked her head out of the stall. “False alarm.”

“Beck, what’s going on? Can’t you go somewhere private?”

“No! Yes. The bathroom is private. Ack, I don’t know.”

“Can you meet me for coffee?”

“Yes. But not right now. I’m on reference duty.”

“But you’re in the bathroom.”

“We’re allowed to take bathroom breaks.”

“So just tell me what’s wrong! You’re making me nervous.”

“I can’t. Hold on.” Becky listened again, just to make sure she was still alone. She stepped out of the stall and leaned down to peek under each stall.

“Becky!”

“I’m back. OK, are you listening?”

“Beck, I’ve been listening for the past five minutes. You just haven’t actually said anything except that there’s a massive crisis.”

“OK, listen. Remember that new hotshot IP guy starting at P&G?”

“I only understood like three of those words.”

“A new lawyer.”

“OK, you didn’t tell me. Or you did and I didn’t care. Doesn’t matter. I understand now. There’s a new lawyer at work. Don’t tell me you’re in love with him.”

“He’s the lumberjack.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Dakota?”

“Get out of there now.”

“I can’t! I’m on reference.”

“You need to quit your job.”

“What? No!”

“There’s no other way. Becky, with such close proximity, you can’t not fall in love with him.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Becky said, incredulous. “I’m off lawyers. And anyway, even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t go for him. He’s a genius.”

Silence again.

“D?”

“How do you know he’s a genius? And why won’t you fall in love with one?”

“Because geniuses make for terrible families, and I want a nice, normal family life.”

“Oh, Beck.”

“No, this is good. Because the no-lawyer thing is new, so it might be easier to break my rule. But the no-geniuses thing, that’s, like, carved in stone. So there’s no way I can fall in love.”

“Okaaay. So why are you calling me in a panic?”

Becky took a deep breath. “I’m not sure exactly. I just freaked out. I’m OK now. It’ll just be a little awkward for a while. Then it will be fine. Then we can forget it and I’ll meet a real lumberjack. Or—do you know any pirates?”

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No, I’m at work!”

“That guy Will didn’t give you a pill or something, did he?”

“No! He’s not a drug dealer. He’s just lazy.”

“And he’s not a genius. Maybe you should get with him.”

Becky snorted.

“Oh, hey, that reminds me . . .” Dakota trailed off without telling her what reminded her of what.

“D?”

The door opened, and this time someone did come in. Linda from HR, who gave Becky a funny look.

Fair enough.

“OK, real quick,” Dakota said in a rush. “They announced the MacArthur Fellowships today and I looked at the list just for the heck of it, and your sister is on it.”

“What?”

“Your sister. Miranda? She’s a genius.”

Becky felt her face get hot like it did whenever anyone mentioned any member of her family. Not that there were any issues there or anything.

“I know she’s a genius.”

“No, like, officially. The MacArthur Genius Grant?”

“Right.” Sure, she knew all about those. Recipients got a large amount of money to do with whatever they pleased as a reward for being supergood at something. Lin-Manuel Miranda got one.

And her sister.

Becky heard Linda cough from inside the stall. Probably she’d spent enough time on the phone in the bathroom.

“You okay, Becky?”

“Yeah, sure. I gotta go. Thanks for telling me,” she said, even though she didn’t really mean it. I mean, it wasn’t bad to know, but it didn’t really have anything to do with her life. It wasn’t like her sister would have told her. Or anyone in her family.

Her family was real tight like that.

Becky hung up, then washed her hands just for the hell of it.

As she clopped down the hallway back to her office, her pants digging into her waist, she thought about her sister the genius. Both of her sisters were geniuses, really. Miranda was a molecular biologist and Astrid was an astrophysicist. Her parents, too, were lauded research scientists working at CU Boulder.

Whereas Becky was just a librarian.

Not just a librarian, dammit. Her work was interesting and important, and it was library science, dammit!

Try telling her family that. Ah, yes, she had. Many times.

There were only so many pitying gazes a girl could take before she stopped trying to organize her family of geniuses into a normal family get-together. Christmas was a nuisance because all the labs were closed, so they spent their time catching up on professional reading. Birthdays, forget it. She doubted her parents knew their own birthdays, let alone their daughters’. How about a nice Sunday night meal? But why would we spend all that time cooking when we can just eat something quick and get back to work?

That was why Becky wanted a normal life. Normal people didn’t spend all their time stressing about the viability of samples and arguing over the efficacies of different research methodologies. At least they didn’t always do that. They talked about books and watched movies and sometimes just did nothing but enjoy one another’s company. They didn’t spend the limited time they had together comparing fellowships and undermining the value of someone with just an above-average intellect.

That’s what Dakota didn’t understand. Her family was eccentric, but they were eccentric in a tree-hugger kind of way. Her dad wore socks with his Birkenstocks, but he still loved his kids and told them so with regularity. They were against organized religion and also the commercialization of religious holidays, but they still gathered together to share family meals.

Even Dakota’s weird family was so normal compared to hers. She thought Becky’s dreams were boring, but for Becky, a white picket fence was the most transgressive thing she could achieve.

That’s all she’d wanted. A normal job, a nice house, a dog, and a nongenius lumberjack. Was that so much to ask for?

For now, she’d have to settle on the normal job. She walked back into the library, glad to see that Will had moved on to his next distraction for the afternoon. It was just about lunchtime, too, so she would have the whole library to herself to answer email requests and, if she was really lucky, do a little cataloging. Not entirely thrilling, but enough to keep her distracted from her woefully pathetic life. Because it wasn’t woefully pathetic. It was great. It was fine. It wasn’t there yet, but it was going places. She was just a little off-balance, that was all. A productive afternoon would get her back on track, she thought.

Until she walked past the reference desk and saw Foster there, waiting.

Waiting for her.

* * *

He wasn’t stalking her.

Even though the fact that he had to tell himself that he wasn’t stalking her was probably an indication that he was getting close.

But she was the librarian on duty and he needed help. Fine, so he could have sent one of the associates down here, or even one of the clerks. But he was having a problem delegating. This was a big case. It needed to be done right.

“Hello, Mr. Deacon,” she said as she scooted behind the desk.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously what?”

“You don’t have to call me Mr. Deacon. You’ve seen me naked.”

Her eyes widened and she swung her head around. But no, they were alone. He wouldn’t have said that if there was anyone else to hear.

Hmm . . . maybe that was a sign he shouldn’t be saying that to her.

Pfft.

“I mean, just call me Foster.”

“Not Deke?”

“Ugh, please, no. That’s a college nickname.”

“Then why didn’t you correct me?”

When they were getting all sweaty and naked, she meant. He should have. He’d thought about it. But, well. “I was distracted.”

He smiled at her, remembering how sweet those distractions were.

She rolled her eyes.

OK. Not what he was expecting.

“What can I do for you, Foster?”

“Have lunch with me?”

She looked surprised. “Why?”

“Um. Because I like you? And I think you like me, too?”

“Is that why you came down here, to ask me out?”

“No. I mean, partly.” God, he was getting all discombobulated. Madison would be laughing her head off if she could see him. “I came down here because I need you to look into a few things for me.”

“Good.”

“But also to ask you out.”

“How about if you tell me your reference needs?”

She blushed when she said needs.

He knew she liked him.

But he did have reference needs. First, reference. Then, flirting.

“I’m looking for cases that involve the transfer of intellectual property rights from research institutions to anywhere outside of that institution. Individual scientists, corporations, all that.”

“OK.” She started typing. He watched her fingers fly. He thought about intellectual property rights. “Is there a specific field of science you want me to focus on?”

“No. I’m casting a pretty broad net to start with. I’ve got some that were tried in New York courts; would it help if I sent them to you? To see if there’s anything similar in Colorado?”

“Yes. So we’re just looking in Colorado? Federal?”

“Yes. But so far, Colorado is the only state. Well . . .” He thought about Goliath and where its major research institutions were. “Wyoming too.” He didn’t think the case would be relevant to the work they were doing in Wyoming, but better to be prepared. “And California,” he added, remembering more details. “And . . . that’s probably it.”

“You know, most people just send an email. You know, so they have time to turn their thoughts into an actual query?”

“Is this too much?”

She looked offended. Although, to be fair, he had sort of meant to offend her.

“No. But it will save us both—and the client, I’m assuming?—a lot of time and money if I could have all the information before I begin.”

“That’s very conscientious of you.”

“Thank you. Deadline?”

“ASAP.”

“Of course. You can’t get more specific than that?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“Have lunch with me.”

“No.”

Well, that was the second time he’d asked her. And the first time she’d said no, technically. But he wasn’t going to beg.

“Not even to thank you for your hard work?”

She stood up. He took a step back.

“I get a salary, Foster, so no other thanks are necessary. I’d really appreciate it if we could keep our relationship professional.”

“OK. Got it.”

“So don’t come down here reminding me of . . .” She trailed off and blushed again. Ha, like he needed to remind her.

But she’d said no. “I’ll send an associate down to get whatever you come up with.”

“Or I’ll put it in the mail.”

“Not sure if I trust Will with that.”

“You’ve only been here a day,” she said with a little bit of a laugh. “How can you possibly know who’s not trustworthy?”

“Genius,” he said, tapping his temple.

The laugh died on her lips. She sat down and started typing.

Foster knew when he was dismissed. So he left.

Good. He didn’t care. This case was going to make or break his career and an office entanglement would only make things more . . . entangled. So even though she got to it first, it was right that they didn’t see each other socially.

Good.

That was good.

Totally good.

He walked right past his office and would have kept going if Kevin hadn’t stopped him to tell him he had a phone call.

“Should I tell them you’re at lunch?”

“No, put them through.”

“You’re sure? You seem kind of . . . out of it.”

“You’ve known me one day. Put the call through.”

“OK.” Kevin pouted as he pressed numbers on the phone. “Then I’m ordering you a damn sandwich.”