Page 110 of Choosing Us

“She’s exquisite. Child prodigies are always fascinating, along with what they are able to accomplish in their lifetime compared to a typical individual, and Harlow was no exception. She is passionate about her field, cautious and thorough, and it has been thrilling to watch over her.”

“What do you mean by watching over her? Like … following her professionally?” Tara leads the question without accusing Graham of anything—yet.

“Well, yes, of course. But it’s more than that, and it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t understand our connection.”

“And what is that?” Tara asks.

His expression is still guarded. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Tara places her forearms on the table, gently laying her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. “Then would you help me understand? I know you’re a great teacher.”

The statement causes Graham to still. “Did my Harlow tell you that?” A slow grin spreads across his face. “I really did help her become who she is today. Our connection is something that transcends the mediocre. It’s beyond inconvenient that we have to deal with all of this,” he waves his hand around the room, “but I know she sees me.”

“That’s interesting, Dr. Tremblay, because Harlow described you and your relationship quite differently,” I casually mention as though I’m not trying to poke the bear.

“What did she say?” he demands sitting up ramrod straight.

“You were a professional colleague, who at one point, asked her out, and she declined.”

“No. I mean, yes, she declined, but it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to go out with me—the timing just wasn’t right.” He adamantly shakes his head as the version of reality he convinced himself starts to crack ever so slightly. “She knew we were inevitable.”

“You helped her when she was designing the Case Prioritization Matrix, right?” Tara’s animated expression and bright tone are enough to create a false sense of ease and redirect Graham’s attention back to her.

“Indeed. I’ve been a mentor for her and her career for years.” Graham lifts one shoulder as though he is humble about his stalking of her over the years. “But it’s her mind that’s remarkable. It’s an outlier, and that differentiator is not just a fact, it’s … it’s everything.”

Tara nudges him a little more. “How so?”

“People tend to be impressed by brilliant people, but in my experience, brilliance does not equate exceptionalism. No, Harlow has a caring, sensitive heart that is precious and rare, and paired with her brilliance? Now, that is exceptional.”

Tara tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“The true beauty of this world is not found in the common, Agent White. No, no. True beauty is found in the outliers of this world. The rare expressions that stand out from the crowd.”

“And Dr. Lane stands out?” I ask, as Graham’s gaze snaps to meet mine.

“Indeed. It’s the typical that surrounds us every day versus the exceptional that stand out.” His gaze slides back to Tara. “The rudimentary drawing compared to a masterpiece from the hand of a true artist. The bland compared to something exploding with flavor. The standard bouquet from the supermarket sharing counter space next to an artistic arrangement.”

“But aren’t all flowers beautiful?” Tara seamlessly latches on to the opening we needed to steer this conversation closer to the case.

Graham sneers in disgust. “Psh. Hardly.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Tremblay. I’m not sure I follow; can you explain that for me, please?” She scrunches her eyebrows faintly, but it accomplishes the goal. We want Graham to assume she’s confused and needs him to explain things. We don’t want him to realize she’s subtly feeding his ego and the desire he has to be seen as the expert in the room.

Graham’s shoulders straighten as Tara defers to him. “Take roses, for example. They are beautiful and extraordinary flowers.”

“What about … a daisy, or a carnation? Are they less beautiful than a rose?” Tara replies nonchalantly.

“Of course.” Graham laughs. “There’s no comparison between those and roses. In fact, my mother worked in genetic research. She was incredible, really, cold and cruel, but my God was she brilliant.”

I pause to let Graham continue his commentary, which is exactly what we want right now.

“Mother used to say that an exquisite rose and a basic carnation aren’t nearly as different as most people would assume. They have similar genetic foundations, but the differences matter.” He exhales deeply before looking off, lost in his thoughts. “One becomes exceptional, and the other? It just remains … common.”

“But, Dr. Tremblay, wouldn’t you say the challenge then is to find the beauty in common things?” Tara leans forward as she speaks, letting Graham subconsciously think she is genuinely interested in what he has to say.

She is—we both are—but not for the reasons that his pride is assuming.

I do love an incorrect assumption.