Page 46 of Hacking the Holidays
Rose sighed. “One hundred sixty.”
My mouth dropped open for a moment. “Me too. Wow. What are the chances of us randomly meeting and sharing the same elevated IQ?”
“One in nine-hundred-sixty million,” she answered without hesitation, then added, “approximately.”
I studied her with renewed interest. “We’re both nerds then.”
“Speak for yourself. I preferstatistically anomalous.”
“That’s just a fancier way of saying nerd.”
Rose laughed—a genuine, unguarded sound that transformed her entire face again. “Fair point. My mom always joked that I came out of the womb asking questions.”
“What was the first thing you asked?”
“Why is this breast milk so warm?” Rose said.
“It’s a valid question!” I said, laughing. “Have you ever tried explaining to someone that you’re not trying to beannoying with your facts, your brain just works differently?”
“Multiple times,” she said. “It never goes well, because the explanation itself sounds condescending, plus they always hate the PowerPoint presentation of my evidence.”
“Accuracy is apparently considered rude in social situations. We literally can’t win.”
We shared a laugh, and I felt something shift—a recognition that went beyond mutual respect for technical skills.
I liked Rose.
A lot.
It was terrible timing, considering I was in the middle of my busiest season helping struggling families, and I had a dozen operations running that required my complete focus. Not to mention the fact that I was almost sure Rose was hiding something.
At that very moment, I didn’t care.
Not even a little.
“This feels like a date,” I blurted out.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, holding her palms up. “This is nothing like a date.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Rose paused, searching for words. “We’re just two colleagues sharing a meal and drinks. Just because you invited me to join you does not make it a date. That would mean you had a date with Eleanor as well. I’m sure you two have eaten together more than a few times.”
I waved it off. “Yes, but this is much different. You and I have stimulating conversations. We’re enjoying each other’scompany. You’ve already assaulted me, which, according to the woman Eleanor talked to at the library today, can be considered a form of intimacy.”
Rose actually smiled at that. “You’re terrible.”
“Maybe I am, but I’m also attracted to you,” I said boldly. “I’m not one of those men who avoid expressing their feelings. I love transparency.”
“Sam …”
“Do you have a problem with the age difference?”
She opened and closed her mouth.
“Do you think I’ll tire of you at some point and then move on to someone else? Is that it?” I asked.
Rose hesitated, then admitted, “Yes.”
