The Boy Who Has No Hope
Soulless #6
Victoria Quinn
Hartwick Publishing
Hartwick Publishing
The Boy Who Has No Hope
Copyright © 2020 by Victoria Quinn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
One
Derek
I left the lobby of the building and approached the Escalade waiting at the curb. I opened the door and got into the back seat.
Ronnie greeted me the same way he did every morning. “Good morning, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Morning.”
Ronnie pulled onto the street and got into traffic.
“How are you?” Emerson smiled at me from her side of the SUV, her coffee in her hand, her hair in a slick ponytail so it would stay out of her face while she had her head bowed over my paperwork. She was perky, warm, a dash of sunshine inside the vehicle.
“Good. How are you?” I pulled out my laptop from my satchel and set it on my lap. The conversation with my father had taken place yesterday. Unfortunately, the rest of the afternoon was a bit awkward, and we never really recovered from it. It was nice to go to bed and wake up to a new day. My father and I rarely butted heads, and since I was a grown man, I didn’t appreciate the way he stuck his nose in my private life. But I reminded myself that my parents loved me in insane proportions, and they only wanted the best for me. That conversation was difficult for my father, but he did it anyway because he felt it was necessary.
“Great. How was your weekend?”
“Alright.” It was a little weird to talk to her right now, especially after the whole thing that happened with Pamela, that little brunette I brought home the other night. I’d compared the liaison to fictitious ones with Emerson—and I was extremely disappointed.
“Did you do anything?”
“I visited my parents at their cabin.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Whenever she was cheery, it was infectious, and it lifted my mood a bit. “Where’s this cabin?”
“In Connecticut. On a lake.”
“Wow, that sounds like the perfect way to spend a weekend. Do you fish?”
“Yes. But we didn’t do that yesterday.”
“It was a beautiful day, so that must have been a good break from the city. I’m glad you did something fun instead of stared at your laptop all weekend.” She gave me a smile before she looked out the window and drank from her coffee. “How are your parents?”
“Happy.” When I reflected on my childhood, I had very few memories of the two of them ever fighting. They got along like two best friends. My father and Valerie…all they ever did was fight. I still remembered how sad my father was at that time, and the way he changed when he met my mom. “They’ve been together for a long time, and they’re still in love.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.” She turned back to me, the affection in her eyes, like that really warmed her heart. “It’s such a good example to show your children. That way, they know what love really is, and they know what to look for. People get into these bad relationships, and sometimes, they never get out of them. It’s a good demonstration of how to love someone, and also, how to be loved.”
She didn’t talk about physics and science the way I did, where people immediately listened and thought I was a genius, but when she did talk, it showed her wisdom, how she was knowledgeable about things I didn’t even consider. It made me understand why my dad wanted what he had with my mom, not what he had with Valerie.
“What did you guys do?”
“Had some burgers and drank beer on the deck.”
“Man, I haven’t had a burger from a barbecue grill in so long…that sounds so good.”
“Well, my dad likes salmon burgers, so it wasn’t so great.” I shook my head slightly, a smile on my lips because he hadn’t changed since I was a boy. Sometimes on a special occasion, he would order a steak, but that was rare. The only time he had a slice of cake was on a birthday.
She cringed. “I like salmon, but if I’m at the lake at a barbecue, I want a real burger. A big, juicy burger with cheddar cheese, barbecue sauce, toasted bun…the whole thing.”
“Same here. And that’s really specific.”
She shrugged then took a drink of her coffee. “I’m a woman who knows what she wants.”
I released a faint chuckle. “Yeah. You are.”
“How long have you guys had the cabin?”
“My dad got it when I was five. It was my favorite place as a child. Still is.”
“Do you have your own cabin?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I can hunt down a perfect property for you so you can use it whenever you want.”
The thought had crossed my mind before, but I’d rejected it. “I don’t take vacations, remember?”
She smiled at my joke. “But maybe you would if you had a gorgeous cabin on the water.”
I knew having my own place would never recreate the magic of my parents’ cabin. If I wanted to get away for the weekend, I had a key and the gate codes, so I was welcome to use theirs whenever I wanted. “Nothing will ever compare to that cabin, so I’d rather not.”
“That’s actually kinda sweet.”
“My parents have told me I can use it whenever I want, so it’s always an option if I need some fresh air.”
“That’s even better—because it’s free. But when you go up there, you’ve got to make some real burgers. Salmon is not supposed to be on a bun…ever.”
I chuckled. “I agree.”
When we walked into the building and past the front desk, Emerson moved her hand to my elbow.
I turned at the touch because we rarely shared physical contact. She occasionally placed her hand on mine when I confessed something emotional, but this touch made me slightly jittery, her soft fingertips on a sensitive part of my body. There was a flash of heat, an electrical current that made my nerves spark to life. But it passed quickly, like a comet burning across the sky. The second it was gone, it was like it never happened.
“Do you mind if we take a detour to your office?”
I glanced out the double doors to the golf cart station, knowing I had so much work to do in the lab.
“Derek?”
I turned back to her.
“I know your mind wants to be elsewhere, but we have to address this. You can’t just be an employee of your business. You have to run it too.”
I sighed because I wanted to ignore this like I always did, but I knew I couldn’t. “Fine.”
“Lead the way.”
I walked to the elevator, and we stepped inside. The main building was only three stories, so I hit the top button and we rose to the floor quickly, Emerson standing near the opposite wall, her purse on her arm with a notebook held against her chest.
When I glanced at her, I saw the way the end of her long ponytail rested between her shoulder blades. Her hair always looked soft and smooth, like a rose petal to the touch. Since she didn’t wear much makeup, her natural features were easy to see, the slight rosiness to her cheeks, a color that matched her lips. Her freckles were always interesting to me because they reminded me of the way the stars looked in the sky, bright lights on a sea of blackness.
The doors opened.
I waited for her to go first.
She turned to me, like she expected the same thing.
“Go ahead.” I nodded to the doorway.
&nb
sp; A slight look of surprise came over her face before she stepped out.
I followed then walked beside her, approaching Lily at the front desk. There were two desks on either side, but I only had one assistant since I was hardly ever there. Two large doors made of dark wood faced us, along with a keypad to get inside. I hated carrying keys, so I chose to use keypads instead.
Lily’s eyebrows shot so far up her face she looked like a deer in headlights. “Dr. Hamilton…nice to see you. I-I wasn’t expecting you.” She rose to her feet and stood there, as if she didn’t know how to act because she only saw me a couple times a year.
I forced my manners to come out. “Nice to see you too, Lily.” I turned to Emerson. “This is Emerson, my personal assistant.”
Emerson shook Lily’s hand, wearing a big smile. “It’s so nice to meet you. Love your blouse.”
“Thanks.” Lily smiled then shifted her gaze to me. “How can I help you?”
I didn’t know what Emerson wanted to accomplish here, so I turned to her.
Emerson didn’t need to look at me to know to take charge. “I’ve been getting Dr. Hamilton organized. His private affairs at home are in order, as well as the office in his lab, so now I need to take care of this. Any insights you can give me would be helpful as we set him up with a strong filing system.”
“Of course,” Lily said. “Dr. Hamilton likes to store his things the way he stores the brilliance in his mind—all over the place.”
I never considered myself to be brilliant. I just used a different way of thinking. But whenever I explained that to people, they thought I was being humble, when I was actually being truthful.
I turned to the door and entered the pin, so the door unlocked. I stepped inside, and now that I was used to the changes Emerson was making to everything, seeing my messy desk and the papers spread out everywhere with no rhyme or reason was a little overwhelming. The place also smelled stale because I didn’t allow anyone in to clean it.
Emerson took a look around and released a quiet sigh. “Well…”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window, seeing a couple guys drive across the compound in a golf cart. The natural light made this place look even worse because dust was everywhere.
She walked to my desk and dragged her finger across the surface then examined the black spot on her finger. Then she grabbed a tissue and wiped it away. “How do you feel about me having my own pin number so I can come and go as I organize your office? Or would you feel more comfortable being in here while I do that?”
I didn’t have the time to be away from my office in the lab for that, but I also didn’t think she needed my supervision. “You can just use mine.”
She turned to me, slightly surprised. “I think it’s best if I have my own pin. Then you know it’s me coming and going. And I’ll give the cleaning lady her own pin, after I get everything organized and locked up safely, of course. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me for a few more seconds, obviously surprised this task was so easy to accomplish.
She’d been working for me for months now, and she was clearly full of integrity and honesty. Unless this was some performance to get what she wanted and sell my secrets to my competitors—but that seemed outlandish. She’d have to be a psychopath at that point. Maybe someone would figure out how close she was to my work, that she had access to my files, and they would offer her an outrageous sum to get copies of everything. But she improved my life so much that it was worth the chance.
The seconds ticked by, and she continued to stare at me, just the way my father did when he took his time trying to think of the right words to express his thoughts. “I appreciate your confidence, Derek.”
When my mother had forced Emerson on me, it was such an inconvenience, to have to talk to someone I didn’t know, go into the details of my life, and basically babysit a stranger. But in time, with every task she completed, she made my life more enjoyable, easier to manage, and it was hard to imagine going back to the way it was before, with all my work all over the place, my penthouse dirty, driving to work every day when I could work in the back seat instead. It seemed like I’d lived my life this way forever because it felt so right, and it was easy to forget it hadn’t always been that way. “You’ve earned it.”
The guys left, so I was alone in the lab. I worked under the task light, my glasses still on my face, my eyes getting tired from focusing for so many hours straight. Emerson had dropped off lunch earlier, but I hadn’t heard from her since.
The main door opened, and she walked in, carrying boxes of food.
I straightened in the stool and turned to her.
“I know you have better food waiting for you at home, but it’s late and I’m sure you’re hungry.” She took a seat on the stool next to me while I sat at the head of the table. She placed the two containers on the counter along with napkins.
“What is it?” I took one container and opened the lid. “Hamburgers…good choice.”
She smiled. “I’ve been craving them since this morning.” She opened hers and placed a fry in her mouth.
“This is definitely better than whatever the chef made me.” I grabbed the burger and took a big bite as I looked over my work. “I’m glad you haven’t decided to quit on me.”
“Why would I?”
“I saw the look on your face when you looked at that office.”
She chuckled before she grabbed another fry and bit it in half. “It takes a lot more than a dirty office to scare me off…”
“Apparently. How’d it go?”
“I always start a project by throwing away the trash first, napkins, blank pieces of paper, old coffee cups. So I did that first before I started to organize the papers sitting on your desk. If I lived that way, I’d have anxiety all the time, so I don’t know how you do it.”
“I have a good memory, so I know where I put everything.”
“But still…”
I turned back to my work. “I just need to finish something, and then we’ll go.”
“Alright.” She ate her burger as she sat there, eating the whole thing even though she usually had a salad or something light for lunch. But now she ate like she enjoyed every single bite.
I erased a few things before I added my changes. That way, it would be ready for tomorrow.
She watched what I was doing, as if she understood it.
I raised my chin and looked at her.
“I’m sorry. I’m just always fascinated by the stuff you write down. It’s like you’re doing math but with no numbers. You really have to be a genius to understand that.”
“I don’t consider myself to be a genius.”
“Well, if you consider yourself to be average, then what does that make me?”
“I didn’t say I was average.” I lifted my gaze to look at her, to see the drop of ketchup in the corner of her mouth. I didn’t tell her to wipe it away because it was cute…that she had an imperfection when she was perfect all the time. “I just don’t think I deserve the genius title. I think that reputation is reserved for the great minds that have already passed on.”
“Well, I think you’re a genius. That’s why I call you Super Brain.”
I smiled at the joke that had become an affectionate nickname. “I think about things differently, and since people don’t understand it, they assume it means I’ve attained some level of genius. In reality, I just think in a first-principle mind-set versus the analog mind-set.”
She gave me a blank look. “What does that mean?”
I dropped my pencil and eschewed the work altogether since the conversation took my focus. “First principle means you think about the program, in its barest form, and forget everything you already know about it. And then you work from the ground up, basically reinventing the wheel but finding a new way of doing it. That allows me to do things differently, more efficiently, more progressively. Analog thinking is working based on the knowledge the majo
rity of the population already has, but if you work off that, you’re always going to have the same obstacles and progression.”
Even though we didn’t have the same education or background, she seemed to understand it. “That makes sense.”
“So, people call me a genius, when in reality, I just think differently.”
“But isn’t thinking differently the definition of being a genius?”
I’d never really thought of it that way before.
“I think you’re a genius. But since you think differently than I do, you don’t realize it.”
I held her gaze.
She closed her container because it was empty. “God, I just ate like a pig.”
“Then I’m a pig too.”
“But you’re a man. You can get away with it.”
“You can get away with it more.”
She grabbed the containers and threw them away.
I left my stuff behind and turned off the lights before we walked out together. I drove the golf cart, and we moved through the building as we headed to the Escalade waiting for us at the curb.
This question was overdue, but I asked it anyway. “What did you do this weekend?”
She turned to look at me, one hand on the straps of her purse. “I had a date, actually.”
I gave a slight nod, but I felt a jolt of both arousal and jealousy. “How’d that go?”
She shrugged. “Good.”
“You’ve been seeing him a while?”
“No, it’s casual.”
That was what I’d assumed based on my observations. She chose to remain unattached to a man despite her age, and that was fascinating to me. It didn’t seem like she couldn’t have a man; she just didn’t want one. And that was so sexy. She could have any man she wanted, but she didn’t feel obligated to have one. She was fulfilled on her own, didn’t need someone to make her happy.
It reminded me of myself…except I wasn’t happy.
“Do you see your parents a lot?”
We got to the Escalade, and she walked around to let herself in. I got into the seat, greeted Ronnie, and then we were off.
The Boy Who Has No Hope (Soulless Book 6) Page 1
