Page 121 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
A new sentiment grips my heart and mind. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s boldness. Maybe it’s resilience. All I know is that I will not break up with Hercules Valentine.Forget Max.
For the restof the ride, the conversation between Greg and me helps me forget my woes. He tells me all about his smart nephew, articulating early examples of when he was little boy and saying how he knew Ronald—that’s his name—would do something great with his life.
“He went off course after high school. His mother thought he was becoming a little punk. But you know, I’m a man, so I understood what was going on with him. I told my sister to set her boundaries, follow through, and he’d be fine.”
I scoot to the edge of the seat so that I can see the side of his face. “Why did she think he was becoming a little punk?”
“He was smoking marijuana and hanging out late with his friends. He dropped out of college to form a band. And not just any college.”
“Which one?” I ask.
“Yours.”
“AIT?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. Leaving AIT to become a musician. Your sister must’ve been very disappointed.”
Greg’s eyebrows pull together as he studies me. “There’s nothing my nephew could do to lose our love. Him leaving a college like AIT was disappointing, but we love him. His mother had a tough time with it. She had dreams for him—dreams he couldn’t fulfill fast enough.”
“Fast enough?” I ask.
“He did what he had to in his own time, on his own terms. The band didn’t work out. He got tired of being stagnant. He applied to MIT, and two years ago, he won the Presidential Award in Physics.”
“Two years ago,” I whisper and then gasp in surprise. “Wait. Ronald Ashton is your nephew?”
“Yeah,” he says, excited. “You heard of him?”
“Oh my God, Ronald Ashton is your nephew?”
“In the flesh, and he’s a single man. I think he’s ready to meet a smart, beautiful, kind woman like yourself.”
“Aww.” I’m actually extremely flattered, and if it weren’t for Hercules, I’d take Greg up on his offer. “I’m seeing someone right now, but if it doesn’t work out, then, sure, I’ll go out on a date with Ronald Ashton. It’ll be fun. And heck, I’m surprised Max hasn’t tried to wine and dine and headhunt him.”
Greg bursts out laughing just as we arrive at the gates to my mother’s ultraexclusive community.
“Oh, he has! Believe you me, he has.”
I’m only halfway through listing Ronald Ashton’s remarkable accomplishments in high-energy-particle research as we make it to the circular driveway. But now it makes sense why Max wants Grandfather’s formula as soon as possible. He must have Ronald Ashton in his employ.
Really, Max. When were you going to tell me?
The car stops, and Greg opens his door.
“Nope, I can open my own door.”
“Oh no.” He shakes his head adamantly. “You’re a lady now. A man should always open the door for a lady. It doesn’t make you spoiled. I know you always had a problem with that. But gosh, honey, these simple things sure do make a man happy.” He winks at me.
I smile.Gosh, I miss the great people my parents employ.
“Okay, then.” I let go of the handle. “Thanks.”
I like what he said. I am a lady. I’m an adult. This is my life. I’m staying at VTI.
Seven orgasms…I won’t be giving those up anytime soon.
The sensorabove the yellow doors turns green, programming my arrival, and the doors slide open. I take off my coat as I enter. “Mom,” I call over the sound of trickling water.
