Page 9

“Yeah, I like my own space. I do things my own way.”
“Like having the curtains drawn in the middle of the day?”
“I sleep at odd hours. It’s inconvenient when the sun is too bright.”
Darrel narrows his eyes ever so slightly, taking me in. If he had a notepad and a pen, I’m sure he’d be jotting something down right now.
Possibly a vampire.
Lacks warmth and welcome.
Uneasy with prolonged eye contact.
Maybe I’m overthinking. Everything is a bigger deal in my head than it is in real life. Or so my mother used to tell me before she passed.
There’s a lot more things to enjoy in this world than there is on those computers, Ronnie. What are you so afraid of?
If mom were alive today, I’d tell her that it’s not fear that keeps me locked in my computer room, building toward the future I won’t live to see. It’s just preference. Not everyone has to like or want human connection.
I check my watch.
Whoa. We’ve been talking for fifteen minutes.
“Are you interested?” Hastings asks.
“In?”
“A relationship.”
“No.”
“That was quick. You didn’t even think about it,” Darrel observes.
I check my watch again. Has Asad gotten in contact with our team? We’ll need to hire a graphic designer too.
I speak distractedly, “While I admire the people who can make a relationship work, I don’t have the time or the interest in adjusting or compromising with anyone. I have bigger things on my mind.”
“You’re married to your purpose. Is it fulfilling?”
“It’s not like I don’t get lonely but…” I stop abruptly. What the hell am I saying? I’m oversharing. Darrel told me about his wife, creating the illusion of a friendship between us. And I fell for it.
The guy is wicked sharp. No wonder he still makes a killing as a neuropsychologist. If I didn’t catch myself, I would have sat there, spilling my guts about losing both my parents, my general mistrust in relationships, and how much I’m afraid of dying.
I rise to my feet. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Hastings, I have a lot to do today.”
“Of course.” Hastings rises too.
“And tell Sullivan that I don’t need a psych eval. I just need his trust and some time.”
Hastings walks to the door and turns back. “No one is saying they don’t trust you, Mr. Cullen. This is a big undertaking. One that could take decades to perfect. It would probably help if you alleviated some of the pressure you’re putting on yourself.”
I laugh darkly. “I know the board is still breathing down Sullivan’s neck about it. I know we haven’t been able to show much progress since the start. Can you look me in the eyes and say that has nothing to do with your visit today?”
Hastings lifts his chin imperceptibly. “I need to make one thing very clear, Mr. Cullen. I don’t do house calls. I only work with people who seek me out first. It’s my philosophy that there’s little I can do to help someone who refuses to help themselves. I only showed up today because Dare made a desperate request.Thatis how much he respects and cares for you.”
I hold back the scoff.
“It may feel like you’re alone in this world, it may feel like you have no one to rely on, no one who’d care if you were gone, but I bet there are more people like Dare. More people who want you to keep going.”