Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Everyone applauded.
“For all the work he’s done in medicine and clinical research, we’d like to dedicate this hospital to you.”
Everyone continued to applaud—and stare.
The mayor waved me forward. “Let’s do this, Mr. Hamilton.”
I handed Cleo my flute before I joined the mayor at the front of the room. He handed me the large scissors, and I held them against the ribbon as I shook his hand. We both wore smiles as the reporters snapped pictures of us.
Then I cut the ribbon.
Another round of applause sounded, filling the large room with a cacophony of praise. I shook hands with the mayor again, along with the board members who stood behind me. When I walked back to Cleo, she wasn’t applauding like everyone else because of the glasses in her hands, but she gave me a new look of affection I’d never seen. Her eyes were softer than they’d ever been, and there was even a film of moisture there, but not because she was sad…because she was proud.
We were stuck at a round table with socialites and aristocrats who wanted a firsthand account of my research, what I was working on at that very moment. I couldn’t share all the details, but some, so that was easy for me to talk about. “The idea is to put the kind of stress on the right cells. When you expose cancerous cells and healthy cells to radiation, you’re stressing both. But you need healthy cells to fight off the bad ones. It’s like dropping a nuclear bomb on a battlefield—all soldiers will be wiped out, and no one wins the war. But I’m trying to find alternative ways to handicap the cancerous cells while giving the healthy cells an upper hand to do what they do best, to fight the invaders.”
A lot of them nodded even though they didn’t seem to understand what I was saying.
Then they started to ask about my time at Harvard, the way I felt when I received my Nobel Prize, and I began to lose interest. I didn’t care to talk about the past, only the present, what I was currently working on.
Cleo took over, navigating the conversation so all the attention wasn’t just on me.
But one asshole asked about my divorce. “I heard she gutted you bad. I’ve been there.” He patted his chest. “My first wife was bitter, took my Ferrari even though she didn’t even like it, just to spite me.”
All I did was stare.
Cleo interceded. “You know, Deacon has an adorable son named Derek. And he’s sooo cute.”
All the women aww’d.
“Yes,” I said. “He’s the light of my life.” Derek put everything into perspective for me, didn’t make me hate Valerie so much. Half his DNA came from her, so how could I hate the person who put him together? Who gave birth to him?
The questions continued because all they wanted to do was gossip about their failed marriages as well as mine. Cleo couldn’t stop it.
She grabbed my hand on my thigh. “Dance with me.”
A quartet played music, and there were some couples on the dance floor. I wasn’t a fan of dancing, but I knew this was the only way she could spare me from this unbearable conversation.
I got to my feet and walked with her to the dance floor.
She placed one hand on my shoulder and placed her other hand in mine.
I felt odd touching her, like I shouldn’t be allowed to feel, especially a second time in a single day. But my arm wrapped around her waist and my hand planted against her back, right in the deep curve at the bottom of her spine. I started to lead, uncomfortable with her proximity—but not because I didn’t like it…but because I did.
Her face was close to my shoulder, looking past me to the sea of tables.
I pulled her a little closer and guided her back and forth, my fingers appreciating the soft fabric of her dress, appreciating the natural curve of her spine that was optimal for carrying a child. Her perfume was fragrant, like roses after a light rain. Some of her hair brushed against me, soft like I imagined it would be.
I sighed quietly, my fingers throbbing as I held hers.
I didn’t say anything. And it was nice that I didn’t have to say anything. I was the one who guided our dance, but she was the one who guided my life. I didn’t have to dread all the things I hated because she understood what I needed without having to ask. She wasn’t just an assistant. She wasn’t just a concierge. She wasn’t just a friend.
She was something I couldn’t describe.
She made me feel alive and calm at the same time. She made all my nerve endings fire off in interest, entertained me with just her looks, made me feel this weird stitching inside my chest, similar to the way I felt whenever I thought about Derek.