Chapter 4

The assistant looked me up and down, his face a mask of bureaucratic indifference. "Tons of people want an audience with Mr. Harrington. You think claiming you're from some school gets you in?"

Since I had blown off a highly anticipated date with my boyfriend to complete this assignment, I wasn't about to back down without a fight.

I maintained my most polite, cooperative tone. "Mr. Harrington just gave a lecture at our university. If you could just brief him about the follow-up interview, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

But the assistant remained impervious. "Mr. Harrington said no visitors. He's incredibly busy."

Normally, I would have lost my temper. Now I just offered a tight, professional smile. "Could you at least check with him?"

He gave me a dismissive look. "Same difference. Mr. Harrington hates being disturbed during downtime, so don't waste your energy."

I argued until my throat was dry, but he wouldn't budge.

The expert was just rigid and unapproachable, refusing to grant me an interview whatsoever. Despite how frustrating it was, I had no choice but to give up.

On my way out, my blood boiled with every step I took. I grumbled, "Are you kidding me?"

I had spent a pretty penny on a cab ride from campus, only to be shut out. I had even cancelled a meeting with my boyfriend to come here, and this was what I got.

"What an arrogant jerk!" I cursed under my breath. "Does he think he is God's gift to academia?"

The more I stewed in my anger, the more miserable I felt. Plopping myself down onto a plush sofa in the hotel lobby, I whipped out my phone and furiously began text-dumping my boyfriend to vent.

I: [My department made me track down that guest lecturer for an interview—the good-looking one I told you about. Total nightmare.]

I: [I thought he was just a bit cold on stage. Turns out, he's a complete diva with a massive ego. I canceled our plans today just to come here, and he wouldn't even let me through the door!]

I: [Ugh! I honestly want to punch him in the face!]

A few minutes passed, but no replies came.

I: [What's going on with you lately? Your response times have been so weird...]

Usually, the second I shot over a text, his reply would flash instantly. Sometimes, before I could even formulate my next thought, he would have already bombarded me with a rapid-fire string of messages.

Finally, his bubble popped up.

Nick: [Nothing. Did you just say you were turned away trying to interview the guest lecturer?]

Still harboring a chest full of rage, I ranted: [Yeah! The guy thinks he's royalty or something. As if anyone wants to see him!]

The status bar suggested he was typing, but nothing came immediately. After a tense couple of minutes, he finally squeezed out a short reply.

Nick: [Hang on a sec.]

But right then, the message was unsent.

I stared at my screen, baffled. "What is wrong with him today?"

Gripping my phone, I slowly stood up from the sofa, intending to head back to the dorms where I could call him out on his strange behavior.

But before I could step out, a hurried voice called from behind, "Miss Berry, please wait..."

Startled, I stopped in my tracks and turned around. Rushing toward me was none other than the expert's assistant.

"Please," he panted, skidding to a halt in front of me. "Don't leave just yet."

I eyed his sweaty forehead, bewildered. "What's wrong?"

Just minutes ago, this man had treated me like a nuisance. Why was he suddenly begging me to stay?