Brain Games

37. Distractions

I walk out of the locker room only to find Dr. Larson down the hall, heading straight for me—well, more so his office that's about ten steps in front of me, but nevertheless, his large presence coming towards me makes me falter.

He hears my shoe catch on the carpet and lifts his head so his eyes meet mine. He slows his massive, powerful strides until he's right outside his office door. "Delilah," he says my name like a cat that just caught its mouse.

I swallow thickly, forcing myself to keep my head up and my shoulders squared. "Dr. Larson."

A hint of amusement touches his features, as if he can see right through me. "It was good seeing you this weekend. It was a shame you had to leave early," he taunts.

I grit my teeth, making a noncommittal sound.

He places his hand on the knob, twisting it and pushing the door to his office open. "I've been meaning to catch up with you. I was wondering if we could have a chat?" he says, pushing the door open further, inviting me inside.

"I'm afraid I have somewhere to be," I lie, but his eyes only sparkle again in that way that tells me he can see right through me.

"It'll be really quick," he persuades, looking like he's not going to take no for an answer.

My heart begins to race in my chest, my fight or flight instincts starting to trickle through my veins. I glance up and down the empty hallway, no one in sight, but I do hear the faint voice of the receptionist on the phone down the hall as her fingers tap at her keyboard. Maybe if I scream she'll be able to hear it.

"Come on in," he coaxes, gesturing me inside.

Against my better judgment, I find my feet leading me into his cold, impersonal office. Dozens of plaques, magazine covers with his face, and awards line the walls in perfect rows, but aside from that and the large mahogany desk sitting in the center, the space is empty. There's not a personal photo, plant, or even a mug from home in sight.

Dr. Larson motions for me to take a seat and I slip into the chair in front of his desk as I hear the door click shut behind him, making the air around us even more ominous. He rounds his large desk and takes a seat across from me, steepling his fingers on top of the expensive mahogany.

"It has come to my attention that you and Dr. Gallow are... involved with each other," he says, as if the words are acid on his tongue. "Now, as a superior, it is my duty to remind you that relations between colleagues is not only frowned upon but highly inappropriate."

Mortified. I'm completely and utterly mortified.

But aside from being mortified, I'm completely and utterly pissed. Refusing to fold and panic like he expects me to, I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to let this asshole have a hold on me. "As I'm sure you know nepotism is highly frowned upon as well."

His mouth ticks up in an impressed yet malicious smirk. "I'm just trying to look out for you, Delilah," he says, feigning innocence. "And I'm trying to look out for Dr. Gallow," he informs, his tone more serious. "Dr. Gallow has serious potential, and he doesn't need any distractions."

My head jerks back. "Distractions?" I parrot, offended.

"Yes," he says simply. "I know Dr. Gallow is still young and has urges, but it's time for him to stop playing around and focus. How else do you think I got so successful? We're working on a plan to cultivate his career and that doesn't involve any distractions if he plans on filling my shoes. Now, knowing Bradly, one day he'll probably want to settle down, but he needs to do that with someone more..." He eyes me up and down. "Traditional."