by Rebecca Lynn
She blinked in shock. “God, Drew. When was this?”
“A long time ago. 2004.” He didn’t meet her eyes, just continued staring off into his memory.
She’d had no idea that he’d even had a brother. He’d only mentioned his parents and sister. She was sensing that he was struggling with something so she reached over and touched his hand.
“You can talk if you need to. I’m happy to listen. Or if you just want to sit quietly,” she said, letting her voice drift off at the end.
He squeezed her hand but didn’t look at her. “I usually don’t do many surgeries on male teenagers. It brings up too many memories so I usually pass them off to Rob.” He turned to her briefly. “He’s the other surgeon who specializes in gunshot wounds. I’m fine to do them, I just don’t like doing them.”
She nodded. “I remember last year how you didn’t do the surgery for Kevin. I wondered,” Tiffany said, referring to a boy they knew in the mentoring program who’d been shot by his step-father. Both she and Drew had been on the scene that day, and although Drew had kept him alive, and traveled with Kevin in the ambulance, Tiffany had learned later that Drew hadn’t performed the surgery.
He looked down at their hands. “I never talk about this. And I have no idea why I am now.”
She squeezed his hand again. “You don’t need to analyze it. Just talk if it will make you feel better.”
“You make me feel better,” he whispered, still not looking at her.
She wanted to cry at his words. Instead, she squeezed his hand and asked quietly, “How did it happen?”
He took a deep breath and let his head hit the back of the sofa cushion. Then he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he began talking.
“Iraq. He had just enlisted. He was one of the greatest kids you could ever meet. Very much like my mom and Carly. Loud, exuberant. Full of life. Only 18.” He closed his eyes again. “When I knew he was enlisting, I got involved with the Red Cross. I went over to volunteer so I could be near him.” His eyes opened and he stared. “So I could be close to him, be there for him if he needed me.” He shook his head. “As a family member to an enlisted soldier, you know going into it that something horrific like that could happen, but you never really truly believe it will. And when it does,” he swallowed. He never finished his statement; just let it hang in the air. After a moment he shook his head again, trying to clear the memory, then looked over at her. “Sorry for all the gloom and doom.” He moved his hand from hers and scrubbed at his face. “Shit,” he murmured.
“I thought you were an army medic.” Right before Christmas, he’d told her that he’d been in Iraq practicing medicine, but she’d assumed he was doing that as an enlisted medic. Someone had interrupted their conversation and she’d never followed up with him about all of her questions.
“No, I volunteered.”
Every time she learned more about him, Tiffany knew she could fall for this man, and hard. But knowing she was getting ahead of herself, she stopped that line of thinking and waited for him to take the lead in the conversation, giving him a moment to get his thoughts together.
“Anyway, he was shot by enemy fire, died instantly. I didn’t even have a chance to try to save him. He would be 29 if he were still alive. And if he were sitting here, he’d smack me upside the head and say, ‘Man, you need to snap the hell out of it.’ He died doing what he wanted to do. He’d tell me to stop getting depressed whenever I think of him, that life’s too short for that shit.” He chuckled. Eventually he shook himself out of his funk and blew out a loud breath. “The patient tonight, he was a 20 year old kid. Just some kid in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He let out a sigh, sat up straighter, and looked more in control. “Sorry. I usually don’t get this way too often. But whenever it’s a kid, it hits close to home.”
“It’s completely understandable, I’d say,” she said quietly.
He looked her in the eyes, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re a good listener.”
“Thanks. And here you thought I was just a good talker,” she said dryly. God knew the poor man had experienced firsthand her countless babbling attacks.
“You are a good talker,” he said in an amused tone. “A damn good talker. It’s one of your most charming qualities.” His gaze bumped down to her mouth.
Her tongue shot out of its own volition, licking at her bottom lip nervously. She swallowed. “You were able to talk to Carly?”
His eyes moved back up to hers. “Yeah. She said she’d love to see the warehouse. So we were thinking maybe we’d stop by late afternoon there, then if you want, we can all go out to dinner before she and I head off to the concert.”
She smiled. “That sounds great. I’d love to show off the place.”
“I’d love to see it. I haven’t seen the inside finished product yet. Is everything done? How’s it looking?”
“It’s great. Todd, the architect, has done a phenomenal job.”
Drew nodded. “I’m sure you had something to do with how great it looks, too.”
She shrugged but smiled. “Regardless, it looks good. I think the neighborhood is going to like it.”
“I’m sure they will. As my mom used to say, the more ‘good’ you bring into a neighborhood, the more ‘bad’ gets pushed out. It’s up to all of us to bring the ‘good’ in.” He smiled at her then took a sip of wine. After putting the glass down on the coffee table, he grabbed a cookie. Once the chewy morsel was in his mouth, Drew began making sounds of pleasure, chewing slowly.
She got wet from watching him. Her eyes focused on his mouth as he ate her homemade polvorones, a Spanish cookie similar to shortbread.
“God, this is good,” he said around the sweetness in his mouth. “Is this one of Janie’s or Ayanna’s?” he asked, knowing about their catering business.
She clucked her tongue, acting insulted. “Of course not. It’s mine.”
“You made this?”
She nodded, enjoying his reaction. He made more sounds and she almost had to look away. She couldn’t help but picture him having sex. He licked the sugar off his fingers and she almost exploded on the sofa.
“What kind of cookie is this?”
“It’s a polvorón. Polvo means ‘powder’ in Spanish. It’s a shortbread cookie with some nut flavoring, and powdered sugar on top.”
“Who taught you how to bake?”
“My mom. She’s an excellent cook.”
He leaned back against the sofa cushion with his wine in hand. It was almost empty, so she took the bottle and filled his glass back up.
“Thanks.” His eyes continued staring into her blue ones. He stroked at his trimmed goatee, looking like he was thinking about something.
“What?” She was starting to get nervous.
He shrugged. “This is nice.”
She gave him a flustered smile, then bit her lip, trying to stop the words before they spilled out of her.
He watched her for a good five seconds and she almost lost her battle of the babble but he finally spoke.
“Tiff?” Humor tugged at his mouth.
“Hm?”
“Why do I make you so nervous?”
She licked her lips and blinked. Perfect time to tell him, Tiffany. “I,” she stammered, about to say I don’t know when she finally answered more truthfully. “I have a couple of thoughts.”
He looked like he enjoyed that answer. She pressed her lips together in irritation. He smirked even more. “Will you ever tell me?”
She cleared her throat. “Why you make me nervous?”
He nodded.
Say it, Tiff.
He interrupted her before she could speak. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, you know.”
She cocked her head and glared good naturedly. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.” Then before she could stop herself, “I’m sure Katrina doesn’t babble like an idiot.”
He examined her for a second, then said, “No, she doesn’t. And
you’re never an idiot.”
She snorted.
“You never come across as anything other than sweet, classy and intelligent...and adorable,” he chuckled.
A moment passed, then Tiffany had to ask. “Why aren’t you with her right now?” she asked quietly.
“Kat? She’s in Los Angeles visiting her mom for a few days. Her mom has pancreatic cancer, and Kat goes out to visit her as much as she can.”
His words made her pause. That explained why he was there then. So, she was the consolation prize. She tried not to be depressed by it and said sincerely, “I’m sorry.” Then she added. “I know with your protective side, you’re probably wishing you could do something for her.”
He shrugged. “There’s not much I can do but listen. I know what she’s going through.” Then he smirked. “Was that ‘protective side’ comment a crack about our previous conversations?”
When they’d gone out to dinner months earlier, their most heated discussion had been the various societal roles between men and women. His philosophy came through when he opened the doors for her, pulled out her chair, paid for the meal. He was adamant about his views. She laughed lightly. “I know. It’s part of your DNA.”
“It is.” He stared into her eyes. “And as I said to you when we had dinner, it’s not because I don’t think the woman is capable of taking care of herself. It’s just my default.”
“You’re a doctor. You like to fix and protect and care for people. It makes sense that you chose that profession given your beliefs.”
“I don’t feel like I need to be that way with everyone. Just some.” He continued to watch her.
She cleared her throat. “So, what’s the prognosis? For Katrina’s mom, I mean.”
“She’s going through radiation and chemotherapy. Kat’s sister lives out in LA, too, and she helps her mom as much as possible, but they’re all close and Kat tries to see them as often as she can. They all grew up there, so...”
Tiffany nodded, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say to him, but she feared the moment had passed. He watched her for another moment, then finally said, “Thanks for letting me stop by. I know it’s late.” He shifted in his seat and grabbed his glass, swallowing the last of his wine.
“No problem,” she murmured, watching his head tip back to finish off his drink, her eyes mesmerized by his Adam’s apple bobbing on his neck. She licked her lips.
He stood and they both brought their wine glasses into the kitchen where he snagged another cookie and popped it into his mouth. “These are really good,” he mumbled around the food in his mouth.
“Here, just take them. I won’t eat them.” She began grabbing a baggie to make a little travel bag for him.
“You don’t have to do that,” he protested.
“No, I insist.” She put them in the bag and sealed it, then handed it to him.
“Thanks. They’ll probably be gone by the time I get home,” he laughed. They made their way to the door where he stopped to hug her again. She could hear him inhale. Her body was flush with his, the pinpoints of her breasts smashed decadently to his hardened chest.
He felt so good against her, then he gave her a brief nuzzling kiss to her temple. She held in her sigh. He was content with Katrina. She didn’t dare tell the girls that she didn’t come clean with him. They would be furious with her for not telling him her feelings. She was furious with herself, but she just didn’t feel right telling him while he so obviously cared for Katrina.
God, she totally screwed this up.
He finally leaned back, his scent teasing her nostrils and his gaze heating her blood. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday then.”
“You bet,” she smiled.
He smiled back, grabbed his bag then walked out.
She stood there like the idiot he said she wasn’t only moments earlier, and looked at the empty doorway, eventually closing the door. Leaning back onto it, she caught her breath. His stare alone made her sigh, and now she’d be counting the hours until Saturday.
……
By early evening on Friday, she was finishing up some of the many details still needed for the foundation to be up and running by the end of March, all be it part-time. It looked promising that Columbia’s program would be able to participate with their interns and provide a graduate student to help by late summer. The final piece to the puzzle was to finish recruiting another person or two to the board as well as solidifying the security firm she’d be using.
While sitting at her desk, her stomach grumbled. She looked at her watch. Almost seven. Time to head home and get some food. Her thoughts were interrupted by a text from Todd.
TODD: Hey. What are u doing tonight?
She smiled. Although she had to admit it was nice to be on the receiving end of a man’s attention, it was Drew’s face she pictured, not Todd’s.
Time to get over it, Tiff. Move on already.
TIFF: No plans. Why?
TODD: Where are u right now?
TIFF: At the warehouse. Leaving in a few.
TODD: Don’t. I’m nearby and will pick u up. You want to grab a bite to eat?
She smiled.
TIFF: Sure.
TODD: See u in a few.
She took a deep breath and began packing up her things. True to his word, he arrived only moments later, getting out of a cab which stayed idling at the curb. She walked over to the door to let him in.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she said. “I just have to grab my stuff.”
“Cool.”
She got her bag and jacket then they both walked to the cab. Once in, the driver headed south.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked.
“There’s a great burger joint down on 70th. Does that work for you? They’ve seriously got some of the best burgers.”
“Sounds good.” Her mind immediately jumped to the fact that Drew lived in that area. She knew she wouldn’t see him. He’d be out with his sister tonight, she was sure. But just knowing she’d be in his neighborhood made her blood pump hotter. “How was your week?”
“Awesome. Just got a contract to work on an old brownstone in Brooklyn.”
“Nice. Congratulations,” she said sincerely.
“Thanks. It’s going to be quite a job. We’re hauling over the whole thing. It will take lots of time but it will be beautiful when it’s done.”
“That’s great,” she smiled.
“And how was your week?”
“Good. Got lots of things off my checklist which always makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.”
“The rest of the punch list for the warehouse should be done by next week. Just in time for the fundraiser. The painters and contractor will be there Monday morning.”
“Yup. I’m ready for them. Not long now,” she said, rubbing her hands together in excitement.
He bumped her shoulder. “You should be proud.”
She shrugged a little, trying not to be embarrassed. “I am. This foundation represents a lot of really necessary changes I’ve needed in my life. It’ll be nice to finally be settled in, you know?”
The cab slowed and pulled up outside a happening place. Todd was right. It was just a burger joint, but it was popular on that Friday evening. They bustled in and grabbed a table and once they’d ordered, they settled in to finish the conversation that had started in the cab.
“How many people did you invite to the fundraiser?”
“There are about fifty on the guest list. A smattering of City council folks, along with local celebrities if you will. That’ll bring in some money, I’m hoping. I just need to finish up hiring the security firm and finish up all of the final legal logistics.”
“I’m glad you have Emily for that.”
“Yeah, she’s great.”
“I know she’s volunteering to do Krav Maga with the girls.”
“Yeah. She’s going to teach those little buggers how to kick some ass.” She laughed. “But it’s als
o teaching them control, self-esteem, and Mike will be with her too. So, the girls will be able to learn how to protect themselves even when someone bigger than them tries to hurt them physically. Em will teach them ways to outthink and combat them.” She smiled and said, “The two of them are a great act, so there’s the entertainment factor, too.”
“Mike’s her fiancé?”
“Yeah. He’s a sergeant with the police department. I grew up with him and he’s a character to say the least. He’ll be helping her teach the self-defense class. And because he’s well over six feet tall, watching her five foot frame take him down is an awesome sight.”
They both chuckled at the visual.
“Who else do you have teaching classes?”
“A lot of them are my closest friends,” she shrugged. “They’re a group that has a ton of interests and talents between them.” She took a deep breath and began telling him about them. “Ryann is an artist, so she’s going to teach sketching and drawing. Jem does carpentry. Actually,” she interrupted herself. “His name is Jeremy McCallister. Does his name ring a bell?”
“Yeah, but I can’t figure out why.”
“He runs the M Gallery and is the son of Tabitha Lowe.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve heard about him in architectural circles.”
“I’ve been friends with his family forever. He’s best friends with my brother. So anyway, Tabitha was gracious enough to donate a painting to auction off at the fundraiser. All proceeds will be going to the foundation.” She was truly excited about that. Knowing how popular Tabitha had become in the New York art world and beyond, it was an absolute blessing to get her help.
“Wow. That’s awesome.”
“I know.”
“Who else will be volunteering?” he asked.
“Well, you already know Jonathan through Mark.” Since Todd knew Jon’s brother Mark due to their architectural connections, he was acquainted with their whole family. “Jon will be teaching a class about money. Ayanna and Janie are going to do some cooking and baking classes. And my brother is going to be around to talk about business and fashion, and the whole lifestyle thing. We’re still trying to figure out how he’ll fit in.” Her twin was an entrepreneur who ran GSoul, which stood for ‘Gotham Soul’, a conglomerate of local New York City boutiques and retail stores featuring independent artisans, along with lifestyle and cultural aspects that represented life in the City, such as wineries and food. In fact, Janie’s catering company just became the ‘go to’ catering vendor for GSoul.
