Page 7 of Falling for the Enemy

Robyn was right. He’d been very quiet, and there were a few times during our meeting where he looked as if he may be sick. “I won’t lie. I’m worried about taking him along. But we’ll just have to make him see that he’s part of the team and that we need himto be ready to explore.” I covered a yawn. Robyn caught it and yawned, too.

“I guess we’re done for the day,” I said. “Thanks for staying after to help clean up the lab. We’ll definitely have to stick to the daily duties schedule on the trip, so we’re not always stuck doing the dishes.”

“I agree.” Robyn pulled her backpack onto her shoulders. “I’ll see you later, Professor Lovely.” I did love the sound of that, but something told me my position here at the university was far more tenuous than I realized. I couldn’t see any scenario that would end up with Jack and me being friends. I was someone who got along easily with most people. It was a skill I developed after traveling to the far reaches of the earth, often with complete strangers, other scientists I met just as we boarded a plane to our remote destination. I’d worked alongside some real stinkers, both men and women, with personalities so abrasive or arrogant it was almost impossible to find any good qualities. Still, I’d managed to collaborate and work next to them. But Jack Sinclair, he was a whole other animal. If Brimley was expecting us to come back as buddies, he was closer to retirement than he thought. It just wasn’t going to happen.

I grabbed my bag and headed out of the building. The spring sun had faded behind a thin layer of clouds that looked as if they could spit rain any minute. I hurried across campus to the staff parking lot. My stomach was growling, and Layla had texted that she was making spaghetti. I’d missed the morning croissants, and I’d only stopped for a yogurt at lunch, so a plate of spaghetti was just what I needed.

There were only a handful of cars left in the lot. Brimley’s vintage Mercedes-Benz was gone. He liked to get home to his wife, Jane. She was a fantastic cook and almost always had some delicious meal waiting for him at home. If only Brimley hadn’t been so set on Jack and I working together on this expeditionor working together in general. It really cast a dark shadow over what would have otherwise been a great day. Speaking of shadows …

Jack always parked his car on the far side of the lot. Today was no different. There was another car parked next to his. A woman with light brown hair and a white cardigan was leaning against the other car with her arms crossed as she watched a conversation between Jack and a little girl. It was Holly, his daughter. She looked extra tiny and petite as her tall, broad-shouldered dad crouched down in front of her. There was a serious and upsetting conversation in progress. I could see Holly’s small shoulders shaking as if she was crying. Was he berating his sweet, little girl? The man knew no limits on his anger. But as my gaze moved his direction, I saw that he was in great distress. Whatever he was telling his little girl, it had melted his otherwise icy heart. Maybe what he’d said was true. Maybe he was only angry around me.

I got in the car but couldn’t help watching through my rearview mirror. He hugged Holly, but she pulled away from him and turned to her mother in full tears. The two adults exchanged words; those words didn’t seem the least bit friendly. The woman, his wife, I assumed, put Holly in the car and got in the driver’s seat. She took off quickly. I felt bad spying on them during what appeared to be a private family crisis.

“Stop being so nosy, Ava. It’s not like you.” I started the car but couldn’t stop myself from taking one last look in the mirror. Jack angrily raked his fingers through his thick hair and then brought a fist down on top of his car. Then he turned and headed back toward the building. His expression was pure anguish, and then it hit me.

I rolled down my window as he marched past, fists curled and a pained expression on his face. “You had plans, didn’t you?” I asked quietly. “You had plans with your little girl.”

His jaw clamped tightly as he turned toward the car. He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. I was spot on.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that doesn’t help, but really, I didn’t know he’d include you on this. I tried to talk Brimley out of it. I don’t know what else to do or say.”

“Just go home, Lo. You’ve already done enough.” With that he marched toward the building. The tension in his shoulders was so tight, I could have bounced a penny off them and sent it straight up to the moon.

The smell of oregano and garlic hit me as I walked in the door. Layla, Ella and I were not exactly chefs. Isla and Aria were the talented cooks of the family. But the one thing Layla enjoyed making, and that she did exceptionally well, was pasta. Ella was buttering some baguette halves with garlic butter.

Layla looked up from sipping some sauce off a wooden spoon. “Hmm, needs salt. How was your day? By the way, I grabbed you an almond croissant.”

“Yay, and my day should have been great, but there was enough unpleasant stuff to sink the good stuff right down to the bottom of the sea.”

Ella looked up from her task. “Wow, sounds like there’s a lot to unpack there. Let’s serve up the dinner, and you can tell us all about it. Glass of wine, too?”

“Definitely.”

I went in to clean up and change into warm sweats. By the time I got back to the table, Ella was pulling the garlic bread out of the oven, and Layla was spooning grated parmesan cheese on top of spaghetti.

I sat down and reached for the wine. “I thought Isla would be home.”

“Luke took her out for a special grand opening day dinner.” Ella pulled out her phone and opened a photo of Isla holding a dozen red roses.

“Man, Isla is so lucky. Wish I could find a Luke,” I said.

“Don’t we all,” Layla said with a dreamy twinkle in her eye. “By the way, Martin and I have parted ways. We went out for an ice cream, and he ordered himself butter pecan ice cream and then started picking out all the pecans. I asked him why he ordered butter pecan if he didn’t like pecans, and he told me it was his favorite ice cream flavor. Only he answered in a very snooty tone, you know, like ‘Duh, why do you think I ordered it?’ Anyway, that was all I needed. Told him we weren’t a match. He stomped off with a pout. Another reason we parted ways. If there’s going to be any pouting in my romantic relationship”—she pointed to herself— “I’m going to do it.”

We laughed and clinked our glasses together. “To yummy food and bread that’s so flooded with garlic we’re going to have garlic coming out of our pores tonight,” Ella said.

“Long and very specific toast but I like it. Here’s to smelling like garlic.”

“So, what happened at work?” Layla asked as she passed me the bowl of green salad.

“Well, it was a real good news, bad news kind of day. The good news was that my team got the grant to go study fungi in Costa Rica.”

Layla blew out a breath and showed us the pout she was so proud of. “Do you mean you’ll be traveling again? I thought you were staying home.”

“It’s only for two weeks,” I said. We paused the conversation to enjoy the pasta. “Yum! So good, Layla.”

My little sister wriggled her bottom on the chair. “Thank you. I thought it tasted pretty darn good myself.”

“You never got to the bad news,” Ella said.

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