LUCY

 

My first day didn’t go too bad. Granted Killian was a big jerk at the beginning, but he eased up a bit as the day went on. However, he was still Killian King which meant he was still a jerk.

Only less of one.

As he semi-promised, Killian took me on a tour. Just not the factory. When I asked to see it, he bluntly said, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel like putting on safety goggles and a cap. It’ll mess up my hair. You’re free to ask Gramps for a tour. In fact, I encourage you to take as long as you’d like. All day in fact.”

“I’ll pass. You can show me another time.”

“Mighty big assumption on your part, Miss Lucy, that you’ll still be here.”

I didn’t reply, but if he thought he was going to run me off my job then he had another thing coming. I didn’t quit on anything I set my mind to. Ever.

Killian Devil King of Brats wasn’t about to make me start now.

I followed him around the rest of the day, trying to get a bead on how he spent his time. Based on what Mr. King stated, I expected the younger King to run the clock by playing games on his computer or phone all day.

He didn’t.

Killian spent his time answering e-mails and fielding phone calls from their packaging factory in Singapore, mica suppliers in India, regulatory agents from the FDA, and numerous other contacts on the supply chain.

When he wasn’t doing that he worked on formulas. When I asked him why, he paused in the middle of writing on his white board.

“It’s what I do for fun.”

He wasn’t even being snide or sarcastic. I wasn’t even sure if he meant to answer me honestly. But there it was. A step, tiny as it may have been.

“Are they problems from school?”

“I don’t have homework, Miss Lucy. If you must, they’re the chemical compounds for a particular pigment shade.”

This was an unexpected surprise.

Keeping a respectful distance, I looked at the slashing black letters and numbers taking over half the board. Precise. Neat. Deliberate. If Mr. King hadn’t already shared, this proved it.

Killian King was brilliant.

“It’s beautiful.”

 He halfway turned, arching a brow, hand still hovering over an incomplete line. “Surely you must be joking. Or sucking up. Which is it?”

“Neither.” I crossed my arms behind my back. “They’re the same letters and numbers I use every day but when you write them…their meaning becomes a language I don’t understand.”

Killian didn’t immediately shoot back with a biting remark. “That makes it beautiful?”

I gestured to the board. “Yes. It’s a mystery to me but not to you. You’re able to distill color into a formula. That’s amazing.”

He turned fully back to the board. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For surprising me.”

I could’ve probed, but I doubted Killian would’ve solved this particular mystery for me. Still, I felt happy. I’d reached him, even if just a little bit. Despite our rocky beginning, I wanted to help him.

Not be more productive or become a better asset to his grandfather, but to heal from the wounds that made him lash out. I didn’t delude myself that just because Killian was somewhat nicer, it didn’t mean he tolerated or trusted me.

My presence in his life was humiliating. There was no doubt I would’ve felt the same if I was in his shoes. Everyone in the main office probably knew why I was there.

To earn a sliver of trust, I’d really have to prove myself to Killian.

And I want to.

I hated to see anyone in pain. As I stood there watching Killian’s hand fly over the whiteboard, I saw a brilliant mind being attacked from within and without. Mr. King was right about his grandson.

Killian King was indeed lost, angry, and closed off.

It didn’t take much to see why he liked working formulas for fun. This was a man who needed answers. I just didn’t know exactly what happened in his life that remained unsolved.

Help him solve it and all this pain will go away.

I didn’t know how I’d do it, but I would. No matter what it took.