Page 89 - The Love Hypothesis

Okay. It was out there now. She’d said it, and she could go back to

trying not to think about it—
“Did she die?”
A beat. Olive hesitated and then nodded silently, not looking at either of

the men at the table. She knew Tom wasn’t trying to be mean—people were
curious, after all. But it wasn’t something Olive wanted to discuss. She

barely ever talked about it, even with Anh and Malcolm, and she had
carefully avoided writing about her experience in her grad school

applications, even when everyone had told her it would give her a leg up.
She just . . . She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

“How old were you—”
“Tom,” Adam interrupted, tone sharp. He set his tea down with more
force than necessary. “Stop harassing my girlfriend.” It was less of a

warning and more of a threat.
“Right. Yes. I’m an insensitive ass.” Tom smiled, apologetic.

Olive noticed that he was looking at her shoulder. When she followed
his gaze, she realized that Adam had placed his arm on the back of her

chair. He wasn’t touching her, but there was something . . . protective about
his position. He seemed to generate large amounts of heat, which was not at

all unwelcome. It helped melt the yucky feeling the conversation with Tom
had left behind.
“Then again, so is your boyfriend.” Tom winked at her. “Okay, Olive.

Tell you what.” Tom leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’ve read your
paper. And the abstract you submitted to the SBD conference. Are you still

planning to go?”
“If it’s accepted.”

“I’m sure it will be. It’s excellent work. But it sounds like your project
has progressed since you submitted that, and I need to know more about it.

If I decide that you can work in my lab next year, I’ll cover you completely
—salary, supplies, equipment, whatever you need. But I need to know
where you’re at to make sure that you’re worth investing in.”

Olive felt her heart racing. This sounded promising. Very promising.