Page 44 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
“So, it’s not his passion?” Both of them moved to the sink to wash their hands.
“His passion is people. He combines his knowledge of history and societies in his work. He did his PhD in the history of the psychology of workforces and how various societies have envisioned or conceived—or sometimes did not conceive—of language for human resources.”
Collin blushed. To think such a man was interested in him. “I’m feeling very undereducated, sir.”
“Don’t.” Mr. Reevesworth smiled, making the order softer. He opened the door to his office and motioned toward the coat rack. “You’re young. And there’s more than one way to be educated. I didn’t feel any more well-educated the day after I received my last degree than I did the year before. What I was was more experienced and more recognized, and that comes with time. Besides, PhDs are only one form of achievement.” Mr. Reevesworth settled Collin’s hat on his head and adjusted the brim.
Collin smiled and dropped his eyes. “Why did you get the PhD then if you already had Reevesworth Industries, or was it before?”
“It was after.” Mr. Reevesworth locked his office, and they headed out toward the silent reception area together. The night security guard gave them a nod as they passed.
Collin summoned the elevator. No one else was around.
“I wanted something that was my own, start to finish.” Mr. Reevesworth tilted his head to the side, as if remembering something familiar and intimate. “I could always tell myself that Reevesworth Industries was only successful because of how much was given to me, but my educational achievements and academic contributions to human knowledge were my own. At the time, I needed to prove myself to myself.”
Dinner at a nice restaurant passed without issue. The maître d' approached as they were concluding, however, and leaned forward to whisper into Linda’s ear. She folded her napkin and then turned to the rest of the table.
“There are cameras and reporters out front. Ellisandre already texted that there are more in front of both of our residences.”
Mr. Moreau flexed his fingers and exchanged looks with his husband. “Your call, Richard.”
Mr. Reevesworth studied Collin for a moment. Then he seemed to reach a conclusion. “We’ll go out the front and walk like we normally do.”
One of Mr. Moreau’s guests, a very wealthy supporter from Copenhagen, shook his head. “Brave. You’re all brave.”
Linda chuckled and sipped from her champagne glass. “It’s a hazard of the territory. I’m certain this establishment can help you leave the back way, or you can simply delay until we’ve exited.”
“I think,” the Dane said, glancing at the other two guests, “we’ll all take you up on that second option.”
“Allow me to order you another round of drinks,” Mr. Moreau said, rising. “Something to keep you while you wait.”
“You’re too kind.”
“For you, my friend, not at all.” Mr. Moreau clapped the man on the shoulder and went off to settle the check.
A few moments later, he was back.
Mr. Reevesworth pulled Collin to the side. “We haven’t practiced this yet. For now, stay silent, act as my assistant, and just keep walking. They’ll be focusing on me, hopefully.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Reevesworth caught his eye. “You can always, always safe word, Collin.”
“I chose you, sir. That means I also chose this.”
“And I chose you, Collin. That means I chose to protect you when needed.”
Collin reached out and squeezed Mr. Reevesworth’s arm. “I’m here, Master.”
They put on their coats and hats—wearing hats felt so much more practical and less of a fashion statement now—and moved toward the front door.
There was a small crowd of reporters and camera people with their press tags hanging from lanyards around their necks and their coat lapels pulled up against the fall evening wind. The sun was long gone, and street lights cast down patches of brilliance in the dark.
Collin stepped in front and opened the door, exiting first. Mr. Reevesworth stepped out right after him, followed by Linda. Mr. Moreau brought up the rear.
“That’s Ellisandre with my car,” Linda said, pointing ahead. She had slipped on a pair of large sunglasses.
“I’ll get the door for you, ma’am.” Collin said.
