After letting them out, I came back to the table. “I wanted to ask you something.”
He lifted his gaze and ignored the laptop.
“I have a lot of ideas for the cabin.” I set the papers on the table. “I could go through everything with you, but I have a pretty good understanding of your taste and—”
“I trust you.” He didn’t look at the papers on the table. His eyes were on me.
“Really?”
He nodded. “I’m sure I’ll like whatever you add to it.”
I had big plans for his birthday, so he’d just made my life a lot easier. “I think you’re going to love it.”
He leaned back in the chair and stared at me.
If anyone else stared at me with that intensity of eye contact, I would feel either threatened or uncomfortable, but when he did it, it almost felt natural at this point. “Is there anything else I can do before I go?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I used to interpret this behavior as cold, but I realized he had to build up his socialization again with every new day. He had to warm up, get used to the conversation, and then he was more talkative. This was the first time we’d said anything to each other in days, so we were at ground zero again. “I’ll be unavailable on Friday, so if there’s something you need, please let me know as soon as possible.”
His reaction changed, his dark eyes narrowing. “Why will you be unavailable?”
“I’ll be out of town for a business trip.”
“Where are you going?”
I was surprised he asked so many questions. “California.”
“So, you’ll be gone all weekend?”
It would be weird if I told him I’d be back that same day, so I lied. “Yes.”
He rubbed his palm across his lips, like he was uncomfortable.
“Something wrong, Deacon?”
“No. I just…I’m so used to having you around.”
“It’s only for a few days.” Brilliant people hated change. They liked having everything stay exactly the same. I’d had other gifted clients before, and their reactions to my absence were similar.
“I know. I just…” He never finished the sentence.
“Matt and Anna will be available if you need anything.”
He nodded. “Be safe.” He turned his gaze back to me. “Just be aware of your surroundings at all times. If someone suspects you’re traveling, you become a target.”
I wanted to laugh because he had no idea what I was capable of. I’d flown alone to Egypt to retrieve a special vase a client wanted me to collect and hold on my lap for the twenty-hour flight. I’d been to Pakistan, Istanbul, everywhere—alone. A flight to California was almost a joke. “I’ll be alright, Deacon.”
He was still uncomfortable with it, but he didn’t say any more. “Call me if you need anything.”
Did he just tell me to call him for help? I was the one he was supposed to call. I didn’t take offense to it because it was sweet, really sweet. “Okay.” I gave him a smile before I turned away. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Cleo.”
Tucker took the last bite of his food, his plate empty after he demolished his dinner. “I can’t believe someone named a hospital after him.”
“I can.” I didn’t think twice about my answer.
“I mean, I can,” he said. “But it’s just weird that he’s my brother. To me, he’s just Deacon, a weird guy who doesn’t know how to talk to people, but to everyone else, he’s this brilliant humanitarian.”
“He’s not a weird guy.”
Tucker shook his head. “You’re more defensive of him than my own mother.”
Even when it was clear his brother was making a joke, I felt inclined to intervene, to make him understand that Deacon wasn’t some nerd or weirdo. It was a label he didn’t deserve, a stereotype that didn’t fit him at all. “It’s hard not to be.”
“How was the hospital thing?”
“It was really cool. I had no idea they named the hospital after him until I saw his name on the wall.”
He chuckled. “So, he didn’t even tell you?”
I shook my head. “It was such an amazing experience, to see him honored that way. I was so proud…even though he didn’t seem to care that much.”
“I think anything everything besides his Nobel is pointless to him.”
I’d never asked Deacon about that because I didn’t want to interrogate him like everyone else.
“Think about it, he’s got like a billion awards. After a while, he just stops caring.”
“I don’t think he doesn’t care. I just think…he hates the attention.”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
When the waiter brought the tab, I grabbed my wallet.
“Come on, let me pay.”
“Why do you have to pay? We can split it.”
“We’ve been splitting it for a while, because I wanted to make it clear I’m not one of those misogynistic assholes. But I’d like to pay.”
“Well, I don’t think that about men who offer to pay. I just know it’s expensive to take a woman out all the time.”