Page 88 of The Love Hypothesis

“Right.” Tom rolled his eyes. Probably with fondness, though Olive didn’t quite catch it in his expression. “He does that, doesn’t he?”

“Does what?”

“Outdoes you.” He pushed away from the table, ambling closer. “Well, outdoes everyone. It’s not personal.” She frowned, confused, wanting to ask Tom what he meant by that, but he continued, “I think you and I will get along great next year.”

The reminder that Tom believed in her work enough to take her in his lab quashed her discomfort. “We will.” She smiled. “Thank you so much for giving me and my project a chance. I can’t wait to start working with you.”

“You’re welcome.” He was smiling, too. “I think there are a lot of things we can gain from each other. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It seemed to Olive like she had much more to gain from it than he did, but she nodded anyway. “I hope so. I think imaging and blood biomarkers complement each other perfectly, and only by combining them can we—”

“And I have what you need, don’t I? The research funds. The lab space. The time and ability to mentor you properly.”

“Yes. You do. I . . .”

All of a sudden, she could pick out the gray rim of his cornea. Had he gotten closer? He was tall, but not that much taller than her. He didn’t usually feel this imposing.

“I’m grateful. So grateful. I’m sure that—”

She felt his unfamiliar smell in her nostrils, and his breath, hot and unpleasant against the corner of her mouth, and—fingers, a vise-tight grip around her upper arm, and why was he—what was he—

“What—” Heart in her throat, Olive freed her arm and took several steps back. “What are you doing?” Her hand came up to her biceps and—it hurt, where he’d clasped her.

God—had he really done that? Tried to kiss her? No, she must have imagined it. She must be going crazy, because Tom would never—

“A preview, I think.”

She just stared at him, too stunned and numb to react, until he moved closer and bent once more toward her. Then it was happening all over again.

She pushed him away. As forcefully as she could, she pushed him away with both her hands on his chest, until he stumbled back with a cruel, condescending laugh. Abruptly, her lungs seized and she couldn’t breathe.

“A preview of—what? Are you out of your mind?”

“Come on.”

Why was he smiling? Why was that oily, hateful expression on his face? Why was he looking at her like—

“A pretty girl like you should know the score by now.” He looked at her from head to toe, and the lewd gleam in his eyes made her feel disgusting. “Don’t lie to me and say you didn’t pick out a dress that short for my benefit. Nice legs, by the way. I can see why Adam’s wasting his time with you.”

“The— What are you—”

“Olive.” He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. He should have looked nonthreatening, lounging like that. But he felt like anything but. “You don’t think I accepted you into my lab because you are good,

do you?”

Slack-jawed, she took one more step back. One of her heels almost caught in the carpet, and she had to hold on to the table to avoid falling.

“A girl like you. Who figured out so early in her academic career that fucking well-known, successful scholars is how to get ahead.” He was still smiling. The same smile Olive had once thought kind. Reassuring. “You fucked Adam, didn’t you? We both know you’re going to fuck me for the same reason.”

She was going to vomit. She was going to vomit in this room, after all, and it had nothing to do with her talk. “You are disgusting.”

“Am I?” He shrugged, unperturbed. “That makes two of us. You used Adam to get to me and to my lab. To this conference, too.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t even know Adam when I submitted—”

“Oh, please. You’re telling me you thought your pitiful abstract was selected for a talk because of its quality and scientific importance?” He made a disbelieving face. “Someone here has a very high opinion of herself, considering that her research is useless and derivative and that she can barely put together two words without stuttering like an idiot.”

She froze. Her stomach sank and twisted, her feet cemented to the ground. “It’s not true,” she whispered.