Page 132 - The Love Hypothesis

“Oh.” She leaned back, finding a more comfortable position. “I thought

you had minions for that.”
“As it turns out, asking your grads to pull an all-nighter for you is
frowned upon by HR.”

“What a travesty.”
“Truly. What about you?”

“Tom’s report.” She sighed. “I’m supposed to send it to him tomorrow
and there’s a section that I just don’t . . .” She sighed again. “I’m rerunning

a few analyses, just to make sure that everything is perfect, but the
equipment I’m working with is not exactly . . . ugh.”

“Have you told Aysegul?”
Aysegul, he’d said. Naturally. Because Adam was a colleague of Dr.
Aslan, not her grad, and it made sense that he’d think of her as Aysegul. It

wasn’t the first time he’d called her that; it wasn’t even the first time Olive
had noticed. It was just hard to reconcile, when they were sitting alone and

talking quietly, that Adam was faculty and Olive was very much not.
Worlds apart, really.

“I did, but there’s no money to get anything better. She’s a great mentor,
but . . . last year her husband got sick and she decided to retire early, and

sometimes it feels like she’s stopped caring.” Olive rubbed her temple. She
could feel a headache coming up and had a long night ahead of her. “Are
you going to tell her I told you that?”

“Of course.”
She groaned. “Don’t.”

“Might also tell her about the kisses you’ve been extorting, and the fake-
dating scheme you roped me into, and above all about the sunscreen—”

“Oh God.” Olive hid her face in her knees, arms coming up to wrap
around her head. “God. The sunscreen.”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded muffled from down here. “Yeah, that
was . . .”
“Awkward?” she offered, sitting back straight with a grimace. Adam

was looking elsewhere. She was probably imagining it, the way he was
flushing.