Love and the Laws of Motion

by Amanda Weaver

  And Nick walked out.

  He was looking back over his shoulder at the dean, who was still talking to him.

  “Thank you for the information, Mr. DeSantis. We’re going to take steps immediately.”

  “Looks like they’re done after all,” the secretary said brightly. “You can go on in, Miss Romano.”

  Livie’s mind spun as she tried to understand what was happening. Nick was back? And taking a meeting with the dean of Adams U? What the hell was going on here?

  “Nick? What are you doing here?”

  He turned back, and his face lit up with a smile. “There you are.”

  Then, as she stood there gaping at him in confusion, he closed the distance between them, took her face in his hands, and kissed her.

  For a minute, she forgot they didn’t do this anymore. Or maybe it was more accurate to say she didn’t care. Since he’d left, she didn’t let herself think about him. She refused to remember. If she’d started thinking back on their time together, she’d have crumpled up in a ball of misery and grief. She’d ruthlessly shoved every thought of Nick into a mental strongbox and hidden it deep in her brain.

  But this kiss brought it all back. That box was dragged back up into the light and the padlock was blown clear off, allowing Nick, and every intoxicating thing about him, to surge back in and drown her. It had only been a week but she’d missed every single thing—the feel of his mouth on hers, his hands on her body. She’d missed the way his hair felt under her fingers, and the rasp of his breathing when he kissed her, and his smell. It had been less than a week since he’d left, but it felt like she’d been missing him for a thousand years.

  This was what she’d been desperately trying to outrun. It had caught up to her, and she was left devastated by it, this longing for him.

  With a gasp, she pushed him away, but Nick didn’t let her go. His fingertips were massaging the base of her skull through her hair, and sending little zips of pleasure shooting through her body. Stupid body, not even caring that he’d left her and probably would again.

  “What are you doing, Nick?”

  “I thought that was obvious. I’m kissing you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Surely this is when she would wake up. Or she’d snap out of whatever delusional daydream she’d fallen into and find herself sitting in one of those waiting room chairs, alone.

  But Nick was still there, still holding her face in his hands, still looking into her eyes with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t either, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Livie. As soon as I realized I’d lost you, I also realized I loved you. You know me, I’m a genius, but sometimes I’m really dumb.”

  “You love me,” she repeated, the words not feeling any more real from her own lips than they had from his.

  “I love you.” His expression was so earnest, so sincere. Somewhere deep inside the concrete and steel bunker she’d hidden it in for safekeeping, her heart cracked wide open. When she tried to breathe, her throat closed up, and she let out a tiny, strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a sob.

  Nick’s eyes softened as he drew her closer again, kissing her forehead, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much, Livie.”

  Her fingers fisted in his shirt as he kissed her again. This time she let it drag her under, opening her mouth to him when he urged her lips apart, and meeting his tongue with her own. He moaned into her mouth, releasing her face, wrapping his arms around her, and hauling her in close.

  She might have happily lived out the rest of her life in that one spot, kissing Nick, if someone clearing their throat nearby hadn’t shocked her back to reality. The dean was still standing in the doorway to his office, the expression on his craggy face somewhere between exasperated and amused. His secretary had her hands clutched to her chest as she stared up at Livie and Nick with hearts in her eyes.

  “Why did you come here, Nick?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “No, really.”

  “Really. I love you and I wasn’t about to let anyone get away with hurting you if there was something I could do about it. And it turned out, there was something I could do about it.” He glanced back at the dean, who nodded.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well—”

  But before he could say more, there was a knock on the outer office door.

  Nick’s eyes cut toward the door. “That’s probably my ride. I gotta go.”

  The door opened and two men in dark suits stepped in. One held up a badge in a billfold. “FBI. We’re looking for Nicholas DeSantis?”

  Livie turned back to Nick, who didn’t look the least bit surprised to see them there.

  “Nick, what’s going on? Why are they looking for you?”

  “Right here, guys. One second.” He took her face in his hands again. “Livie, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do right now is to disappear again, but it can’t be helped.”

  What the hell was he talking about? All she knew was that the FBI wouldn’t be here looking for him just to say hello. She was nearly light-headed with panic. “Nick, what—”

  “I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to contact you. I know I can’t ask you to wait for me, and I’m not going to. It wouldn’t be fair. But know this—I love you and I’m coming back for you, no matter how long it takes me. The rest, well, it’s all up to you.”

  Then he kissed her again. Hard, like he was trying to imprint himself on her that way. He didn’t need to worry. Nick’s kiss was pressed into her soul, along with the rest of him. Long before she was ready to let him go, he released her and stepped back.

  The two FBI guys were advancing toward him. He turned to face them. “You don’t need to cuff me or anything. I’ll come.”

  Cuff him? “Nick, what have you done?”

  She reached for his arm, but the agents were already moving him toward the door. Politely, but firmly. He looked back at her one more time, his eyes overflowing with emotion. “I did exactly what I had to do. This is your choice to make. Nobody’s got the right to force it on you. And now you can. I love you, Livie. I’ll see you around.”

  And then he was gone, ushered out the door between two FBI agents. Livie stood frozen, staring after him, desperately trying to understand what had happened.

  “Miss Romano?”

  She spun around. The dean was still there, still watching the whole thing play out. Except she had no idea what that “thing” was.

  “What just happened here?”

  “Perhaps you should come in so I can explain the situation.”

  “Please.”

  He looked at his secretary and sighed heavily. “Vicky, clear my schedule for the rest of the day and all day tomorrow. I’m going to have my hands full.”

  In his office, after she’d sat in one of the two leather chairs facing his desk, the dean fell heavily into his own chair and threaded his fingers together. On his desk, under his hands, there was a scatter of paper, computer printouts, lists of numbers. She couldn’t read any of them from where she sat.

  “Earlier this afternoon, your friend Mr. DeSantis came to me with a rather explosive allegation. He claimed Professor Langley, the Acting Chair of your department, has been skimming funds from a grant awarded to the Chair, Professor Finch, who’s indisposed with an illness. I’m guessing that’s what you intended to tell me during your appointment today?”

  “Yes.” Livie nervously ran her fingers down the line of upholstery tacks in the arm of her chair. “I can’t prove it, but he is, I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, Mr. DeSantis proved it.” He leaned back and waved his hands at the papers
strewn across his desk. “He presented me with a fairly incontrovertible chain of evidence, including banking records from Skylight Telecommunications listing withdrawals by the university and deposits in those same amounts to Langley’s personal checking account. He also produced electronic copies of the university fund request forms with Professor Finch’s signature on them. Since he’s informed me Professor Finch can’t yet walk or talk, I’m guessing these signatures are forged.”

  He lifted a printout and skimmed the page. “I’m not sure I want to know how he acquired these records.”

  Livie stared at the printouts. Skylight’s internal banking records, the forged request forms from the university’s internal system, Langley’s personal bank account activity, and the “how” was crystal clear to her in an instant.

  “No!” Livie covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no! He couldn’t have been so stupid, could he?”

  But she already knew the answer to that question. He’d hacked into Skylight’s financial records, and the university’s databases, and Langley’s personal bank account. He hadn’t left with those FBI agents, he’d been arrested by those FBI agents. He’d crossed the one line he wasn’t supposed to cross. And he’d done it for her.

  “He also seemed to think Langley had it out for you personally?” The dean was obviously upset about the scandal that had just exploded in the middle of the university, but his voice was kind, as were his eyes, as he examined her across the piles of evidence that might send Nick to jail.

  “He did. When Janet had her heart attack and didn’t recover right away, Langley tried to get me to work on his project instead. He wasn’t happy when I said no.”

  “Is there anything else about Professor Langley I should know before I take steps to resolve this matter?”

  So she told him everything—about getting shunted to Peter’s lab assignment, about his refusal to sign off on her Hubble application, knowing it would imperil her PhD, about the new stuff in Langley’s office, the new equipment in Peter’s—by the time she’d finished, Dean Haverman was wearily pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “You have my apologies on behalf of the university, Miss Romano. Whatever we can do to facilitate you advancing your work on your thesis, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I want Langley held accountable for what he’s done. That’s all. I don’t need any help.” She paused to draw a deep breath. It felt like she was about to jump off a very tall cliff into very cold water far below. “Because I’m transferring to McArthur to finish my PhD. I start in January.”

  Haverman looked utterly defeated. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Your records indicate you’re an exceptional student. Is there anything I can do to get you to reconsider?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not about this. It’s about me. This is something I should have done a long time ago.”

  Haverman pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand toward her. “Then I wish you good luck with your future studies, Miss Romano.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  All things considered, Nick was treated quite decently by the guys who arrested him. It might have been that he called them up as soon as he’d gotten the information he’d needed and told them exactly what he’d done and when and where they could come and arrest him for it.

  He didn’t see much point in trying to hide. They kept pretty close tabs on him. They were bound to figure it out sooner or later. Why not save the taxpayers a few bucks and make everybody’s job a little easier?

  He was mildly surprised that they’d hauled him all the way to DC instead of interviewing him at a field office in the city. But then again, he was a sensitive asset, and they liked to keep those pretty close to the nest.

  He’d been cooling his heels in an interrogation room for the better part of an hour, but it wasn’t some break-your-will-to-live kind of place like he’d seen on TV, or like he’d experienced firsthand back when they’d picked him up eight years ago. No glaring bare bulbs overhead, no one-way mirror, he wasn’t cuffed to a steel table. This looked more like the office of some low-level bureaucrat who hadn’t had the time to decorate yet. He sat in one battered office chair—not even handcuffed to it—and on the other side of the desk an empty chair awaited his interrogator. They’d even brought him a cup of terrible coffee and some chips from the vending machine while he waited.

  Finally, the door opened and a familiar face entered the room. Nick knew him as Agent Smith, but he was pretty sure that was not his name. He was carrying a fat file in one hand—all of it no doubt about one Nicholas DeSantis—and a coffee mug emblazoned with the FBI logo in the other. Smith circled around the desk and took a seat, leaning forward on his elbows to examine Nick.

  “You look good, Agent Smith. You been working out?”

  Smith cracked a small, sarcastic smile. “I figured I’d see you here again one of these days, Nick. A guy like you can’t resist the lure his whole life. Eventually he’s gonna get back in the game, and sooner or later, he’s bound to shoot himself in the foot.”

  Nick shrugged. No point in explaining himself. They already knew it all. All that remained to be seen was how he’d be made to pay for what he’d done.

  “But I gotta admit,” Smith continued, flipping through the file. “I’m a little confused about how you chose to do it. You finally go rogue, but you don’t infiltrate a Vegas casino or sell your services to one of those Russian outfits. Skylight Telecom is admittedly a little interesting, but you didn’t even break into their research and development division. You broke into their financial database. And the rest of this? Bureaucratic records at a mid-level city college? One single personal checking account at Chase Bank? I’m not seeing a criminal mastermind hacker at work. Mind letting me in on your genius plans here? After all this time, why’d you cross the line for this?”

  Nick bit back a smile. “Would you believe me if I said I did it for a girl?”

  Agent Smith threw his head back and laughed. “Honestly? That’s the only explanation that makes sense.” Sobering, he folded his hands in front of him on the table. “But while I find that terribly romantic, you understand you fucked up?”

  “I do.”

  “And you understand our previous arrangement no longer applies?”

  “I do.”

  “This isn’t something we can overlook. There will be consequences.”

  Nick lifted his head and looked Smith straight in the eye. “Whatever they are, it was totally worth it.”

  “She must be one hell of a girl.”

  Nick thought back to Livie’s face in that last moment, right after he’d kissed her senseless and right before he’d vanished without a trace. That memory might have to last him quite a while. How long remained to be seen.

  “She is a hell of a girl.” He smiled, a small, private smile. “She walks amongst the stars.”

  “Stop it. You’re gonna make me cry.” Smith sat back and took a sip of his coffee. “Okay, then. Let’s talk about what happens next.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “This is so cool!”

  “Hang on,” Livie said, leaning over and punching a few buttons on the telescope. The huge metal tube slowly swung to the left and oriented itself to the new coordinates. “Take a look now.”

  The sullen fifteen-year-old boy, who’d been dragged along to the community outreach event by his mother, peered into the eyepiece again. “Holy shit, what is that?”

  “Cameron!” his mother wailed. “Language!”

  “It’s okay, I’m from New York. I’ve heard much worse. That is the Horsehead Nebula.”

  “What is it?” Cameron breathed, never lifting his eye from the eyepiece. Nearly everyone else from the evening stargazing event had gone home. There was only Cameron and his mother left. She’d been urging her son to wrap it up for fifteen minutes, but the kid was hooked. From someone who hadn’t wanted to ste
p foot in the observatory earlier this evening, now he’d become someone she couldn’t tear away.

  “It’s a star nursery.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It’s made up of interstellar dust and gasses that come together to create new stars. See those little bright spots inside of it?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Those are stars being formed.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know, right? It’s pretty cool.”

  “So cool.”

  “Okay, Cameron,” his mother interjected. “The stargazing ended fifteen minutes ago. We’re keeping Dr. Romano from getting home. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I really don’t mind. And I’m not a doctor yet.”

  Cameron finally looked up from the telescope. “You’re not? But you know so much stuff.”

  “I’m still in school, I’ve got another year to go and when I’ve finished, I’ll submit something called a dissertation. It’s a paper, about the research I’m doing here at McArthur. After that, I’ll graduate and become a doctor.”

  “What will you do then?”

  “Even when I finish my dissertation, I’ll still have a lot of research to do on my subject,” she explained. “My dissertation will only describe a tiny part of it. Hopefully I’ll get hired to teach at a college somewhere that will let me keep working on it.”

  “They should definitely give you a job, because you’re a great teacher.”

  “Thanks,” Livie said. To her surprise, she agreed with Cameron. She’d become a great teacher since she’d arrived at McArthur. She’d never have believed it when she’d stepped in front of her first Intro to Astronomy class back at Adams. A lot had changed since then. Most importantly, her.

  “McArthur opens the observatory to the public once a month,” Livie told Cameron. “Be sure you come back.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” his mother assured her. “I haven’t seen him this excited since they released a new edition of Fortnite. Thank you so much for your time.”