Yes, just as I know he’s done to me, I did some digging into him before I came here. According to a few academic sites, Dr. Alex Chambers is a biomedical scientist. This particular field of science analyzes how the human body works to discover innovative ways to cure or treat diseases. Apparently, Dr. Chambers helped developed some miracle vaccine for rotavirus that earned him an academic award.

I’m not even sure what that disease is, but he’s obviously the real deal. I wonder what he thinks of me.

“I do happen to be very full of information. It’s a side effect of having an isolating career,” he explains. “I lack the ability to do small talk.”

“You seem to be doing just fine.” Truthfully, I despise small talk. It’s a waste of time, and makes my head hurt.

As the waitress sets two cups of cappuccino on the table, I say, “I took the liberty of ordering for you. Hope you’re not allergic to dairy.”

“Not at all. Thank you.”

Dairy’s not his kryptonite. Check.

I swirl a spoon into the foam as I watch him. “So what do you do for a living that makes you so good—and not at all creepy—at tracking down random women from clubs?”

A test. I want to see just how honest he is…or perhaps how delusional. This guy could be into cloning people into robots for all I know. I did happen to read that biologists are doing that now.

He glances down at the coffee, bashful. He runs his hand into his hair before he meets my eyes. “I’m a scientist,” he says. “As I admitted, I’m not great with people, talking. I spend most of my time looking at the world through a microscope. Venturing to a club was an act of desperation.”

As it is for most people, really. “What do you mean?”

“For human contact,” he says. At this, he looks away, to the people crossing the street.

It could be the truth. His confession has just enough self-deprecation to be believable, and his blunt demeanor last night did suggest he’s socially inept. You wouldn’t think that about him by his outward appearance. Still, it’s not enough for me.

“And the hacking my phone?” I prompt.

“Yes, that.” He blows out a breath. “I really was testing an app that I developed. I wasn’t trying to obtain access to your phone in particular. I was testing how many networks the app could crack in a heavily populated area.” He shrugs, unapologetic. “Maybe I used it as a way to talk myself into going to a club in the first place. But it did get me there, and it did bring me to you.”

“You’re not going to say this is kismet…”