Page 19 of Duty Compromised
“You’re not working, are you?” Her voice was warm with familiar exasperation.
“I’m at home,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. I’d just leave out the part about my next plan.
“Right. At home. Definitely not obsessing about the countermeasure that’s been driving you crazy all week.”
I glanced at my laptop screen, where the research paper remained unread on page two. “Maybe a little.”
“Charlotte.” The way Darcy said my name stretched it into two syllables of gentle scolding. “We’ve talked about this. Weekends exist for a reason.”
I adjusted the grip on my mug, already bracing for her lecture. “Weekends exist because of historical labor movements and religious traditions. Neither of which particularly applies to computational emergencies.”
She let out a huge sigh, exaggerated for effect. “See, this is why you’re single.”
Heat crept up the back of my neck. “I’m single because interpersonal relationships require social skills I’ve never successfully developed.”
“You have social skills. You just choose not to use them.” More rustling on her end—her crossword, no doubt. Darcy always multitasked through our conversations, as if her brain could handle three puzzles at once, while mine spun out on just one. “Speaking of which, how’s it going with our hot protection detail?”
My grip tightened on the mug. “Ty Hughes is a temporary addition to facility safeguards. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh. Is that why you’ve been actively avoiding him all week?”
I shifted on the couch, tucking my knees under my chin as if the defensive posture might hide me even over the phone. “I haven’t been avoiding him. I’ve been focusing on my work.”
“Charlotte, I saw you literally take the long way around the research floor to avoid walking past his desk.”
My pulse stuttered. She noticed? I cleared my throat. “The long way provides a better view of the secondary monitoring stations.”
Darcy’s laugh rang bright and knowing, slicing through my flimsy logic. “You realize you’re attracted to him, right?”
The words dropped like a stone in my stomach. I scrambled to reframe them in safer terms. “Physical attraction is simply a neurochemical response triggered by evolutionary markers of genetic fitness.” I took a quick sip of coffee, forcing myself into clinical categories. Safer ground. “His facial symmetry suggests good genetic health. The broad shoulders and muscular build indicate physical capability that would have been advantageous for survival in prehistoric times. The strong jawline is associated with higher testosterone levels, which correlates with?—”
“Oh my God, Charlotte.” Darcy groaned. “Regular people just say he’s hot.”
“I’m not regular people.” My voice sounded sharper than I intended. Defensive.
“No kidding.” Her tone softened, slipping under my armor. “But seriously, he seems nice. On Thursday, when you knocked over that entire stack of backup drives because he said good morning? He helped clean up without making a big deal about it.”
My cheeks heated at the memory. My entire week reduced to slapstick errors around one man. “On Friday, he caused me to spill coffee all over my workstation.”
“He tapped your shoulder, Charlotte. To get your attention. Typical human contact. Not an assault.”
I traced meaningless patterns against my knee, trying to erase the phantom sensation of his shoulder brushing mine. One second of contact, and my nervous system had overloaded like faulty wiring. “I’m not equipped for this.”
“For what?”
“Whatever this is.” The admission felt like pulling teeth. “Attraction. Interest. I don’t know the procedures.”
“There aren’t procedures. That’s the point.”
But there had to be. Everything followed patterns—algorithms, formulas, rules. My stomach twisted at the thought of stepping outside those lines. “All aspects of life have procedures. Social interaction follows predictable pathways based on cultural norms and psychological principles.”
“He was trying to make conversation with you this week, Charlotte. Showing interest. You know, like ordinary humans do when they find someone intriguing.”
I set my mug down harder than necessary. “I don’t want him to find me intriguing. I want him to leave me alone so I can finish the defense algorithm and get back to my actual research.”
“Your actual research will still be there when the crisis is over. But Ty Hughes won’t be.”
“Good.”
