Processing what he has just said to me is so hard. I can’t imagine having a parent that abused me.
“Who does shit like that?”
He laughs. It’s a hollow sound. A sad one. “You wouldn’t believe the stories if I told you.”
His hands are flattened on the tops of his thighs. I want to hold them.
“Kestrel. Give me your hands.” My hands are open, palms facing up.
He places his in mine. I take them and clutch them tightly. “I’m sorry for all the hell you went through growing up. I hope one day, it’s behind you, and you can live without any kind of reaction like what happened earlier.”
“Believe me, so do I. I’m working on it, but at times it seems I’ll take one step forward and two steps back.” He gives me a grim smile.
“You’ll get there. Until now, I never would have guessed anything was wrong.”
He pulls his hands away, pushes the button to start the engine, and pulls the car back on the road. My attempts to engage him in further conversation fail. For the rest of the drive back to town, he’s taciturn.
When he pulls into my driveway, he says, “There’s this cocktail party I’d like you to attend with me next week. Saturday night. I’ll pick you up at seven. We can go to dinner afterward, if you’d like. Dress accordingly. And Carter, wear your hair in a loose braid.”
Speech fails me. He’s given no hint of this whatsoever until now.
“Give me your phone.”
I hand it to him, and he enters his number into it and then sends a text to his phone. After he gives it back to me, he gets out and walks around to my side of the car. When he assists me out he says, “Call me if you need anything.”
I stand there like a fool watching him as he drives away.
***
“What’s up Doc?”
“Oh, God, help me!” Harper can drive a sane person nutty.
“What?” she asks.
“Are you ever going to stop with that?”
“Nope. You should be used to it by now. What’s going on? How’s it going with StrongMeds?”
“Awesome! So, chica, I need a favor. I have to go to this work function and I need a cocktail dress.”
“Yeah, I got you covered. When do you need it?”
“By Saturday. Can I stop by this week to pick it up?”
“Sure thing. Why don’t you come Tuesday after work and then we’ll grab some dinner afterwards,” Harper suggests.
“Sounds perfect. I’ll call when I leave the lab. And thanks, Harper. You’re a wardrobe lifesaver.”
I end the call and feel guilty as hell for lying to her. But right now, I just don’t want the Harper interrogation. My brain couldn’t handle it at all. I have to attend these work things occasionally and she’ll think nothing of this. And I won’t have to endure her pounding me with question after question. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to tell her anyway, since she doesn’t know about Ells’ room. I can see her face now when I’d explain to her that I’ve made a deal with the man who’s buying my house. In exchange for dating him, I get the chance to visit my dead daughter’s room. She’d probably send up the guys in white with a straight jacket and have them haul me off to the state mental hospital in Columbia, South Carolina. No, it’s better to keep this all to myself. Oh, and what about Kestrel’s bizarre reaction and the way he left me? I’m not even sure what the deal is between us now. My head feels like exploding just thinking about it. My mind is filled with the bits he told me about his father and how I’d wanted to pull him in my arms and hold him. But I know that wouldn’t have worked. He probably would’ve flung me out of the car and driven off. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Eight
Kestrel
When I back the car out of the driveway, Carter is still standing there watching me. I know I’ve confused her, but I have to get away from her and the quicker the better. My reaction to her touch appalls me. She must think I’m the biggest asshole around, especially after those kind things she said. And seeing her there makes me feel like a bigger shit than I already am. But right now I’m practically jumping out of my skin. Christ! My intentions were to ask her to dinner mid-week so we could be more comfortable around each other at that function on Saturday. It’s important that I go. It’s necessary to make connections and she’ll probably know many of the people there. Now when we attend, and that is if she will even go with me, it will be under less than ideal circumstances.
I must make it a point to call her during the week and ask her to dinner. That would help to break the ice for the weekend. Thaw things out a little. She’s much more pleasant to be around than I ever would’ve imagined. She reminds me somewhat of Gabby—intelligent with I suspect a witty personality hidden beneath the layers of sorrow. Too bad she’s had such a tragic life thus far.
My plans for meeting her crash and burn. I barely have time for bodily functions, much less to meet her for dinner. Work is ridiculous. I stay at the office every night until nine or ten o’clock. The new receptionist occupies most of Shayla’s time, which leaves me buried under a mound of paperwork. Jack from our Manhattan office arrives on Tuesday, and I feel like I’m a horse at the Kentucky Derby for the rest of the week. Thursday’s here before I know it and I haven’t given Carter a thought.
So on the way home from work that evening, I take a chance and make that call.
“Drayton.”
“Such formality,” I remark.
“Oh, sorry. I’m still at work.”
“Busy week?”
She sighs. “Yeah. Very.”
“Am I interrupting?”
“Actually, yes.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll call later.”
“No, let me call you back. I’m just about to wrap up this modulation,” she says.
“Sure.” I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about.
After we end the call, I wonder what she actually does. I know she’s some kind of a doctor. Then I laugh out loud. I’m usually very in-depth about anyone I have any dealings with. I haven’t done a single background check or search on her. Why is that? This is highly unusual for me. When I get home, I pour myself a Lagavulin. Not long after that, my phone buzzes.
“Carter.”
“Hi. Sorry I had to cut that last call short.”
“Not a problem. Tell me what you do.”
When she finishes, I’m stunned. Her tone is so animated, that I’m smiling. I can feel her excitement about her work. It’s a living thing.
“You’re brilliant. I have to ask. Are you a Mensa member?” She must be. Her IQ must be at least 130.
“That’s a rather silly question, don’t you think?”
“I don’t ask silly questions, Carter.”
“Yes.”
“I thought as much. Out of curiosity, what’s your IQ?”
“It’s okay.”
“Carter.”
“One fifty-five.”
Holy fuck! “Hmm. You’re a genius.”
“Not really.”
“Yes. An IQ of one fifty-five is definitely genius level. Will you show me sometime?”
“Show you?”
“Your work?”
She pauses. “You mean you’d really like to see it?”
Her surprise astounds me.
“Of course. This is amazing stuff. I’d love to. It surprises me that you’re surprised.”
“No one ever wants to see it.”
“What about your friends?”
“Not at all. I tell them and they listen, but they’ve never asked to see it. Even Harper’s never asked and she shows the most interest.”
That makes me wonder about her friends. Not that I’m in a position to judge. I have none. Try making friends when you’re a kid whose father is a mob king. Doesn’t work too well. You learn at early age to become a loner.
“So I have an idea. Why don’t I meet you at your work place tomorrow, and you can give me a tour? Afterwards, we can grab a bi
te to eat.”
“You’re not going to get all goofy on me again, are you?” Hesitation laces her voice.
“I’ll do my best not to.”
“Okay.”
She tells me the time and where to meet her.
The next morning I get to the office early. There’s a lot I need to accomplish and I promised to meet Carter at five. Kolson calls around four. He tells me how impressed Jack is with the business prospects and the potential we have going already.
“Like I said, we need more manpower.”
“You’re going to get it. I’ve got some powerhouses hand picked for you. I’ll be down there next week. Since Jack is staying for the next couple of weeks, I thought I might as well get this moving.”
“When are you arriving?”
“Tuesday. Any chance I can see that gem you put a contract on?”
“I don’t know. I can check with the owner.”
“Good. I’ll see you next week then.”
At four-thirty I walk over to Shayla’s desk and tell her to have a great weekend. Traffic is terrible so I hope I’m not too late. Parking isn’t bad since I’m guessing that most of the employees have left for the day.
Carter is waiting for me in the lobby of the hospital as I arrive. She guides me over to the research division and we ride the elevator up to the floor where her lab is located. Security is tight, but it’s expected. I can’t begin to imagine what they protect in here. She gives me a coat to wear along with some gloves, but tells me not to touch anything. Then we enter her inner sanctum—the place where it all happens. There is so much equipment, I feel like I’m in a scene from CSI. Microscopes dot countertops, along with dozens of computer monitors. Lab equipment—small square boxy looking things and other large freestanding machines are everywhere. In the back are cages lining the wall. They’re filled with mice—dozens of them. I feel like I’m in one of those pet stores in the mall. It’s all very high-tech and sterile looking. I gaze around in fascination because of all the places I’ve been and all the things I’ve seen, I’ve never been anywhere like this before.
“So this is where all the magic takes place, huh?”
“Well, I kind of think so.” She does her best to explain everything, but I tell her it’s all Greek to me. She talks about gene modulation and how she’s trying to get the cancer cells to change their RNA so they can’t put up roadblocks to the human immune system.
I must have the old deer in the headlights look, because she takes my hand and walks me to one of the microscopes. And it’s not just any microscope. This thing is at least three feet tall by my estimation.
“Here, look.” She shows me some things under the viewing lens and I pretend I know what I’m looking at, but in reality I’m a dumbass.
“Ok, I give up. What am I looking at?”
She laughs. “This is the gene modulation sequencing I was working on. You’re looking at a cancer cell from an oncomouse. I tripped up the RNA.”
“Oh.” I have no fucking clue what she just said. This girl is fucking brilliant. She rattles all this scientific shit off like Kolson and I talk about investments.
I must have a stupid look on my face because she says, “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”
“What? No! I’m simply in awe of your brain. What kind of microscope is this?”
“It’s an electron microscope. It can do just about everything.”
“I see.” I really don’t, but she doesn’t have to know that. The damn thing looks like it can fly. I stand and look at her. That wild hair of hers is all tangled up and twisted into a funky looking bun that she’s stabbed a couple of pens in. A few pieces have escaped and she tucks them behind her ears. She shoves her glasses up her nose and shoots me a lopsided grin. A very unexpected urge to kiss her nails me. And it nearly derails me. Where did this come from?
“It’s an amazing piece of equipment. And my brain is okay, I guess.”
“Carter, how old are you?”
“Twenty-six. Why?”
“And you have a Ph.D. In what? Genetics?”
“Not exactly. It’s sort of a combined thing. Molecular Biology and Genetic Engineering.”
“Oh. I see. Piece of cake degree, I’d imagine.”
She shrugs. “It was something that piqued my imagination. And when that happens, I’m balls to the walls. Well, boobs to the walls, since I don’t have balls.”
I chuckle. “Why the cancer research?”
“When I was a little kid, there was this boy in my class that died of leukemia. It stuck with me. I figure kids—it’s not fair for them to die so young. Then after Ells, I made this promise to her that I would make it my mission. If I couldn’t save her, I would do my best to save other kids. And hopefully, it will parlay into all cancers.”
“That’s very noble.”
The space between her nose, right above where her glasses rest, creases and she frowns. “No, I’m not trying to be noble. I’m trying to save lives. End of story. That’s my mission in life. I’ll die trying, too.”
“All I can say is you’ve impressed me, Dr. Drayton.”
“Thank you. And now I’ve been given a huge grant by StrongMeds so maybe I’m closer than I think.”
“Congratulations.”
“Kestrel, don’t congratulate me until the cure is here.”
“I’ll do more than that. We’ll celebrate then.”
We get ready to leave, and she locks everything up. Now that StrongMeds has an interest in her work, everything has a price on it. I feel sure this place is more vulnerable to break-ins and cyber theft.
“Does it worry you to be alone in here?”
“No,” she says. “I’ve been working alone for years.”
“But now, you’re a much more sought after entity. You should take care in here when you’re alone.”
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It’s what I’ve always done. The University has upped the security here since StrongMeds has contracted with us, so I feel very safe. Besides, this feels more like my home than anywhere else.”
And I get that. After my father died and I went to work at HTS, I would stay there until midnight sometimes, losing myself in my work.
“Well, be aware of your surroundings, nevertheless. You’re a valued commodity now. Many people would love to get their hands on your research, I’m sure.”
This part of the building is quiet. Empty. Everyone has gone for the weekend. As we approach the elevator, Carter stops and says, “Oh shoot. I left my backpack.” She makes a quick turn and collides into me. My arms go around her to keep her from falling. All I can see are her ghostly gray eyes and her mouth. There is only one thing I want, and that is to taste her lips again. I have to know if I was wrong about them. I need to know if there’s more to Carter than I gave her credit for last time.
My mouth inches toward hers and her lids shutter in expectation. She stills as she waits for me. When I touch her, she sighs. Then I feel her hand on my neck, pulling me closer. Her lips are soft, pliant, and she opens her mouth in surprise as she feels my tongue lick them. And when she does, I deepen the kiss. This is not the girl I kissed the other day. This girl is no cold piece of marble, but rather a warm, passionate woman that I want to taste more of. And I do as I walk us up against the wall and thread my fingers into her mass of tangles.
When I finally break it off, we’re both panting like fools. She immediately drops her gaze.
“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t look away.”
“That was …”
“Really, really, nice.” My hand rests on her neck and I slide my thumb back and forth over her pulse point. It feels like a hummingbird’s wings beneath my thumb.
“I don’t usually do …”
“I know. But I had to kiss you. I wanted to back in the lab.”
“You did?”
“Yes. When you were talking about your work.”
She presses her lips together then says, “I’m not very good at this.”
“I disagree.” And I kiss her again. And this time, I’m aggressive. My tongue sweeps her mouth and discovers every secret it holds. And then it entwines with hers until she’s breathless. Her hand grips my shoulder, sinking into my muscles as if she doesn’t want to let go. When we stop, her lips are flushed, along with the skin on her cheeks and neck. It makes me want to kiss her again and again.
She finally opens her eyes and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
“Are you laughing at me?” Her tone is hushed, yet accusatory.
“Not at all. I’m smiling because I’d like to keep kissing you.” I move my hand to her cheek. “You’re flushed and it’s sexy, Carter.”
She shoves me away from her. The action is so unanticipated I almost lose my balance.
“Don’t say things to me that aren’t true. I am anything but sexy.”
She turns and heads to the elevator.
“Wait a minute.”
She keeps walking.
“Carter! Stop.”
She is forced to as she waits for the elevator.
“Carter, I never say things if they aren’t true.”
No response.
“Carter. I meant what I said.”
When she finally faces me, her expression is one of complete disbelief. “Kestrel, I call bullshit on that. I saw the way you looked at me when I made you that offer for the room. I saw the expression on your face … the way you inspected me. I’m not a fool. I know what I am. What I’ve always been. I’m one of those girls. I’ve been bullied and made fun of before.”
Kestrel Page 9
