The Boy Who Has No Faith (Soulless 5)

He held his plate with the slices on it, like he intended to eat with me in his boss’s office. “Yeah, it smells like a meadow or something. You’re really turning this place around. And this office—”

“Pierre.” Derek stepped into the office behind him, carrying his own plate of food. His hands were clean, as if he’d gone to the bathroom and scrubbed them down before he touched anything. All Derek did was deepen his tone, and his colleague seemed to understand exactly what he was saying.

Pierre turned away. “We’ll talk later.” He walked out.

Instead of leaving, Derek sat on the couch across from me and ate quietly, his eyes on his plate.

“What was that about?” I set my phone down since it was rude to go through my emails and social media newsfeed when my boss was right across from me.

He just shook his head and kept eating.

I let it go.

“If they ever bother you, let me know.” He leaned forward over his food, scooping the salad onto his fork, and eating. “I told them you’re off-limits. But they just aren’t used to being around attractive women, so…they’re idiots.”

“Uh, all he did was compliment the bathroom.”

“I know what he was trying to do. I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable here.” He chewed, his eyes on his plate.

The whole thing was weird. “Derek?”

“Hmm?” His eyes were still down.

“Why don’t you look at me?”

He stilled at my observation, mid-chew. Then he finished it before he raised his head and looked at me, releasing a quiet sigh once his eyes were on me, giving me a look that lasted several seconds. It was an intense stare, too, as if he was memorizing my face because he hadn’t seen it in years. “I didn’t realize I was doing it.” He continued to stare for a moment longer before he turned back to his salad.

It was a weird pause, a weird moment, and I’d give anything to know what that super brain was thinking. “They both seem harmless, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I take that kind of thing really seriously here. When I started this company, I wanted the culture to be very specific, intolerant of harassment, discrimination, and prejudice.”

“Then why don’t you have more women engineers?”

He stilled at the question and looked at me again. The pause that ensued was so long that it was incredible he didn’t appear awkward for letting the silence pass for so much time. But it was fascinating, to watch him digest the question and really think about his answer before he gave it, to have the confidence to be unaffected by the lengthy silence. Unlike most people who thought of a response when they only heard part of what you said, he actually listened to every word until I was finished. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Unfortunately, there’re just not a lot of women who are interested in the profession, in STEM disciplines at all, as a matter of fact.”

“STEM?”

“Science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.” He took another bite of his food.

“You got your student an internship at NASA. Why don’t you offer your students internships here?”

He shook his head. “I don’t do that.”

“Why?” He went above and beyond for his students. Why did this cross a line?

“Because I hire the best engineers in the world. People with the education as well as the experience. If I’m going to be the best, I have to hire the best. I can’t take chances on naïve individuals who are going to make mistakes that compromise the entire task.”

“Then aren’t they going to make the mistakes somewhere else? I thought your goal was to prepare the next generations of engineers to be the best they can be? At least if their internship is here, they’re getting the best experience possible. You know what they say, you would rather train someone the right way than the wrong way, and once people learn the wrong way, those habits are rarely fixed.”

He continued to eat as he considered what I said.

I understood him better with every passing week, so I could recognize the moments when he was thinking deeply, that the silence wasn’t a reflection of his refusal to participate in the conversation. And it was best to be quiet as he organized his thoughts.

“I took the lecture position at NYU as my way of doing exactly that, despite the fact that I’m already obligated to so many different projects. If I were to take on an internship program, I would be spread even thinner than before. At a certain point, I have to decide how to spend my time, because there are only so many hours in a day and I can’t cut into my sleeping hours.”

“Why?”

“Your brain needs a full night of rest to be in your best cognitive state. They say six hours or less is like operating slightly drunk.”