Page 26 of Ruining His Smirk

The captain clapped me solidly on the shoulder and exited the data suite.

“Well, Mr. Landry.” Braddock smirked and folded his arms. “I suppose your protection has left.”

I rested both hands on the edge of the conference table and leaned towards him.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine, Mr. Braddock. If anything, now you can finally stop pretending to be civilized.”

A faint smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “For you,” he said evenly, “it’s Doctor Braddock.”

My eyebrows climbed. “Doctor?”

Dexter waved his notepad from where he was sitting in the corner. He wasn’t part of the project, but he could observe as a grad student. I was glad that I had brought him along. At least one of us was having a good time.

“He has two PhDs, did you know that?” Dexter said in a chipper tone.

What the hell. “Two?”

“Isn’t it remarkable?” Dexter continued excitedly. Did I need another word with my brother about whose fucking side he was on?

“Dr. Braddock has one in marine biology and another in medieval history.”

I blinked. “Medieval history?”

Dexter nodded enthusiastically. “That’s why he knows so much about knights, swordsmanship, and when you both—”

Okay. That was it. “Dex.” I raised a hand to stop him.

“Oops. Sorry. I forgot that he is…” He squirmed uncomfortably. “Um… the enemy,” he finished in almost a whisper.

I sighed. Maybe it was too much to expect that he wouldn’t fanboy over a scientist. That blood would triumph over science. But I couldn’t be mad at him. Not really.

The esteemed fucking doctor was, of course, smirking at me. Lord, how I despised him.

“Mr. Landry?” Hillary asked.

I looked over at her.

“Do you have any other questions for me? Anything regarding the ocean currents or the iceberg itself?”

I shook my head. “No, ma’am. You’ve explained it well.”

She smiled warmly. “In that case, I’d like to steal Dexter for a little while. I thought he might enjoy seeing the laboratories.”

Dexter’s face lit up so quickly it almost made me laugh.

“Yes! I’d love to.”

He looked toward me, trying very hard to hide the hope in his expression.

“Go on.” I waved at him. “You’ll never forgive me if you miss the chance.”

He was already halfway out of his chair. “Thank you!” He came over and hugged me fiercely before following Hillary out of the data suite like a puppy wagging his tail.

Their voices faded into the corridor as the door slid shut behind them. The room suddenly felt much quieter. Across from me sat a man with two PhDs, raised in a world so different from mine that I couldn’t even imagine it. I thought about the workshop back at Waypoint, about years spent learning with my hands in a shed in Texas instead of from books.

The way he dressed, the fine wool of his sweaters, and the posh accent he spoke with had all already made me think he came from money. Now I knew this swanky ship was funded by a billionaire. After what he had said to me earlier, I had no doubt left that he looked down on me.

Because I had no fancy degrees.