Page 13 of Not In The Contract

“I hit a wall a month ago when I realized that I’d need much more than just theories and hypotheses.” She sighed. “Talking about life in foster care isn’t something many people are willing to do. Especially when it drags a lot of trauma to the surface. I’ve spoken to psychologists and social workers, but nothing they gave me felt like enough.”

“Like lyrics with no melody,” I murmured, understanding how frustrated she must have been.

“Exactly!” she gasped. “I have bits and pieces but no idea where they go or how they fit.”

I nodded, glancing back to my half-finished cup of coffee.

“And when Paula mentioned you,” she continued, “it was like my research had taken on a physical form. I decided that I had to meet you.”

“I’m very flattered,” I said. “I’ve never been one to shy away from my past. It might not be pleasant, but it’s a core part of who I am. I’ve spent years in therapy, so I won’t be a blubbering mess about it.”

Devon’s lips twitched but her smile didn’t falter. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“How do you feel about having to shadow someone for two months?” I asked, unable to stop myself. I wanted to know if she was half as skeptical as I was.

Or if she relished the idea.

She pursed her lips and chewed on the inside of her cheek, her eyes downcast. “I’m hardly what some people would call asocial butterfly,” she admitted. “I’m just excited for the opportunity to finish off my dissertation.”

“And you don’t mind having to shadow me?” I questioned, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. “It’s quite a long time. You’ll be juggling your classes with my work schedule.”

She took a deep breath, her jaw set. “To be honest, this research is my life,” she said. “I’ll see it through no matter what.”

Reluctantly, a smile crept across my face. I hated that she impressed me. I hated it because that meant I’d have to ask her about living with me.

“I don’t know how much Paula told you about me,” I began. “But I have a tight schedule. It’s not something I’m willing to budge on. I run a lot of companies and there are too many people relying on me for any mistakes.”

“I understand.” She nodded.

My eyes narrowed. “I hope you do,” I said. “The nature of your studies is heavily based on psychological observation, which isn’t something you can achieve in a few hours every day. Would you agree?”

Her brows pulled down in understandable confusion. “I guess so,” she agreed.

It was my turn to take a breath. God, I couldn’t believe I was about to do this…

“Then you would also agree that it would be in both our interests for you to live with me for the duration of your research.”

Her soft mouth popped open in surprise, any trace of her smile long gone.

“Oh,” she said finally. She blinked. “That would definitely allow for more data, but would you be comfortable with that? The stress of constant observation might negatively impact-”

“I’m aware of my own mental capacity, Devon,” I interrupted, lifting a hand to silence her concerns. “I believe that this way, you’ll be able to gather enough evidence within two months. Maybe you’ll finish sooner.”

Hopefully.

“Are you sure it won’t be an imposition?” she asked nervously.

“Hardly,” I lied. “It would be easier than having you meet me at the office at specific times. I spend a lot of time on-site and it might be difficult for you to shadow me if you aren’t already with me.”

“That makes sense,” she mused. Her eyes brightened. “If you’re offering this seriously, then I’d be an idiot to give it up.”

Shit.

“Perfect,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed. “I need some time to finalize my thoughts, but I’ll call you later with my answer.”

I glanced at my watch. Right on time.

“Thank you, Ms. Bell,” she said quickly, getting to her feet when I stood up.