Warrior Reborn (12 page)

With a forward pull and a backward jerk, the train careened to a stop. They shuffled along with the throng of commuters up the stairs and into the crisp tang of the fall night air. The setting sun was no longer visible, just a fading glow over the roofline of the buildings. Gold surrendered to a bit of pink, darkened to light gray and then to black.

Free of the subway’s smells of stale bodies and manufactured scents, she caught the tease of salt water from the river, close enough to tingle her sinuses.

She relaxed as Jason moved her closer to him. He tucked his hand at her elbow, seemingly no longer interested in keeping distance between them. So wrapped in the post-dusk quiet and their forward motion, Briet almost didn’t realize he’d stopped until a gentle pressure pulled at her arm. He gestured with his head to a heavy oak door several steps below sidewalk level, framed by a brick façade and a rise of several stories of windows, some dark, others exposed by light.

What restaurant hid behind this inconspicuous veneer?

Once through the door, soft frosted globes of light spotted the walls and fat white glowing candles centered each red-clothed table. A pleasant surprise. She caught Jason’s glance as he waited for her reaction. Before she could comment, a smiling girl, of perhaps sixteen with long auburn hair and youthful bounce appeared.

“Mr. Ballard. Your table is ready.”

Not waiting for his response, she worked her way to a table along a far wall. His spot was secluded between rounded pillars, obviously more for ambiance than structural support. Briet took her seat and glanced around the room at the evening crowd.

A family of six, crushed cheerfully into a red leather booth, chatted in one corner. Several other tables in discrete sections held couples.

The girl handed them each a menu and winked at Jason. “Poppa will be glad you brought company.”

He shook his head as the girl left. “I should have asked you if you like Italian?”

“I like any and all good food.” She leaned forward. “I gather you know Poppa?”

“It’s quiet and close to home so I come in here a good bit. Poppa has been here for years. Most of his customers are regulars, word of mouth clientele. Once you show up more than twice he’s committed to delving into his patron’s
best interests
.” Humor laced his comment as he opened the menu and glanced at the printed card attached inside.

“Does he scrutinize everyone you bring?”

Jason looked up from his menu, his eyes searching hers. “I’ve never brought anyone else here.”

Her heart gave a leap and she tried to make it stop. Just because she was here didn’t necessarily mean he considered her special. Though the thought made little flutters tingle in her stomach. Not sure how to respond, she pretended to read the menu’s list of pastas, seafood, and meat dishes.

“I’d recommend the specials if you’re undecided. They’re always delicious.” Finger laced over his menu, he glanced at her. “We promised no work discussion, but I want to be honest with you.”

She tensed, checking his expression for a warning, waiting for him to push her away, but Poppa chose that moment to appear.

“Mr. Ballard. Jason. Ah, and such a beautiful lady.” Bald pate, curly red hair over his ears, a caterpillar of a mustache, and a rotund middle capped off an open, cheerful personality.

Briet couldn’t contain her smile. He was definitely a relative of the young hostess.

In the course of a few minutes, Poppa had flirted with her, chastised Jason for not being in the previous week, poured them both Chianti, and convinced them to each try one of the specials.

“You were saying…about work,” she asked, watching the chef and owner make his way around to other tables, entreating his customers to bread, wine, and levity on his way back to the kitchen.

At Jason’s silence, she turned back. He seemed to be searching for words—again, unlike him.

“It’s my job to get to know the team and to favorably manage the outcome of Welson Labs investment in the testing.” She watched a frown gather between his brows. He looked away from her for a moment. “I pursue people and fetter out a lot of information because it’s my job. How I do my job and whom I spend my time with has never been an issue for me. Not professionally or personally.”

He paused, so she tried to pick up his train of thought. “But we conflict between those two?”

Jason looked into her eyes. “I asked other doctors on the team to attend the reception. I didn’t ask any of them to have dinner with me. I wanted to see you again. But I think it’s good to keep both sides of our relationships compartmentalized.” The frown was back. “Sanyu, perhaps others as well, seem very interested in you personally. While I can’t find a reason for their attentions, I think keeping our relationship private would be in your best interest.”

Her best interest? “How?”

He let out a breath and kept eye contact, deep blue and dark, his serious intent obvious. “What they don’t know, you can use to your advantage.”

A little confused, she spoke without thinking. “You expect me to use you?”

“If need be.” He looked entirely serious.

“I’m not comfortable with that.”

“Perhaps not, but for now will you trust me? I’m willing to strip away work from our personal lives, if you’ll humor me and attempt to keep our personal lives away from our work interactions.”

Reminiscent of talking to her brother, concern and deeper worries were in his expression. Her wish to eradicate his apprehension would have to wait. She doubted he would say more before he was ready, always a cautious man. “You evidently feel strongly about this.”

His lips thinned as he bowed his head closer to her. “Yes. I’ve learned to trust my gut. It’s never let me down. Something is warning me that we need to be more observant, cautious.”

“Separate relationships, but equal.”

“I doubt equal.” His hands released from their clasp over his menu, but he didn’t complete the gesture by touching her.

Yes, cautious. Whatever was at play, it involved more than segmenting their relationships. However, for him, she would try.

His eyes met hers and she felt sucked into their depths. Who was she kidding? There was no fight, no battle. She wanted to put up resistance until she knew all the facts, but she also wanted to trust in him more. He was hers, as much as she was his, to trust and to protect.

Working for a lighter tone, she smiled. “Okay, so tell me something about Jason, which has nothing to do with Welson Labs.”

He leaned back and blew out a breath, the seriousness fading. “Well, you’ve heard about the car.” He held up his hand at her raised eyebrow. “Just kidding. Welson Labs has been most of my life for the last several years. Believe it or not, it’s felt like I’ve lived out of my car a lot of the time with trials and conferences all over the country. The car and I got pretty attached.”

She bit back a laugh. “What about before Welson?”

He wrapped his hand around his wine glass. “After I graduated from medical school, I spent several years in residency in a large hospital in Baltimore. I went into practice there, in internal medicine, with the father of one of my classmates.”

So much time invested. “Why did you stop practicing medicine?”

He tensed for a second, the lines around his mouth just visible in the candlelight, seeming to steel himself for an unpleasant outcome. She caught the flex of his hand around his glass from the corner of her eye. “It sucked the life out of me. Probably sounds selfish, but I spent all my waking hours dealing with patients. The ones who really needed my help were buried under so many layers of rules and regulations from insurance companies and liability that I couldn’t do anything for them. Patients cycled in and out in a huge stream. A lot of them didn’t have the wherewithal or desire to change their circumstances. When the Welson rep solicited me, I was ready for something different.

“Making progress and making money hasn’t been an unpleasant experience.” Jason picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and braced himself for her backlash to his comments. He jerked when her hand covered his forearm. The calm sympathy reflected in her gaze took him by surprise.

“I don’t think there’s anything selfish about frustration or being stuck without hope,” she said.

Their dinner arrived and she pulled back her hand, but he waited several seconds, preparing himself. The minutes ticked by and still, he had no sense of her judgment or worse yet, any indication that she wanted to manipulate him back on the path of the straight and narrow.

“Now you have to confess your past or maybe a great phobia.”

Her mouth twitched before she took a bite of the Chicken Piccata. An immediate moan of bliss and she slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

The laugh rolled out of him but he tried to staunch it with his napkin. A delicate shade of pink flushed up her neck and along her cheeks. “Obviously, you need to eat first.”

Waving a hand in denial, she forked another bit. “No, but it is very good. You must not eat here too often or you would have to jog to work and back to stay fit.”

“You’d think. I try to get out for some action, been a little too busy lately with the trial.”

Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “Action?”

“Soccer. Used to play rugby but don’t have the time anymore. I like fresh air and a good outlet for aggression.” He placed the clam and mussel shells from his meal in an empty bowl and gave her a look. “Have you ever been to a game of either?”

She shook her head and looked at him as if he’d grown a third head. Perhaps she’d thought he’d been hatched at Welson. Or maybe she’d just led a sheltered life.

“You’ll have to come see one. But you haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t have phobias. Fears maybe. I have fears like anybody.”

Her expression had turned unexpectedly serious and secretive. She usually read like an open book, emotions always quick and clear in her eyes and the delicate lines of her face. He shook his head. “You are the most fearless person I know. What could possible make you afraid?”

“I fear losing my family, my brother.”

Hmm, guess she didn’t spend all of her life at the hospital. “You have family here, in town?”

“Sometimes. I mean my brother comes to town. A lot.” She chased a bit of sauce around her plate with some chicken.

“Sounds—intrusive.” And awkward, he thought.

“It did sound ungracious. He’s just very protective and tends to keep an eye on me. I tried to be proactive. I got us both cell phones, so he would call me and not feel the need to pop in all the time.”

Jason almost choked and reached for his water glass, only to sit back laughing again. She looked so earnest. The woman had no idea how bad she was with that phone. “This would be the same cell phone you’ve misplaced four times since I’ve known you. Is anyone able to reach you on that thing?”

She frowned at him, opened her mouth to refute it, and gave in. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Gather it’s not working for him.”

“Not so much.” With an eye roll, she changed the subject. “Do you have any family?”

“No. Haven’t for a while.” He looked up and shrugged at her in the odd silence following his comment. A bad subject but one better addressed quickly and then closed. “It works for me. Both of my parents are dead. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, to speak of.”

“Sounds like you intend to be alone forever. Kind of a drastic plan, isn’t it?”

Her smile implied levity, but he put down his fork and looked toward the other people in the restaurant. This impasse always came up. Usually not until he was ready to end a relationship, but he found he didn’t want to be less than honest with her. “I’m not the white picket fence, family kind of person. I know myself well enough that I could never pull it off.” A decision cemented long ago by nature and experience.

“People always say self-awareness is a good thing.” Briet’s tone was light and even though he stared into her eyes, she gave no sign of backing down or camouflaging other feelings, except perhaps sadness. Sadness he could handle, manipulation not at all. When she tilted her head, he realized he’d been glaring at her and reached for his wine. “I’m not judging you.”

“Guess it’s just a sore point. Ultimately relationships come down to that.”

She licked her lower lip. He followed the progression of her tongue as she glanced around the room and then to him. “Perhaps we should take this one step at a time instead of racing to the finish?”

Relief flooded through his system. It was as if she knew how to release the pressure valve on his mind and emotions at the same time. He smiled, more than grateful she was willing to rescue a relationship he wasn’t prepared to end, yet. “I’m remarkably good at a planned approach.”

The topics changed to his hobbies, his car, his team. He changed it to hers; her gardening and conventions she’d attended. Both of them skirted any revealing conversation but the rest of the dinner went smoothly.

Poppa insisted on dessert. Then, sated and at ease, they left the restaurant and found themselves on the path along the river.

The night air had chilled and his shoulder brushing hers caught her shiver. Sliding his jacket over her shoulders, he let his arm linger. The warm heat of her body quickened his responses. Not unexpected. He’d found her attractive the first time he’d seen her. Her allure grew each time he was with her, and not just sexually.

He wanted her. Wanted to hold her and walk with her and share silence with her, feelings new enough to be unsettling.

They walked for several long minutes, passing evening runners, dog owners discretely scooping, and couples strolling hand in hand. In unspoken agreement, they stopped to watch the river. The water glistened with the flicker of lights from buildings on both sides like a live being, sentient and restrained. Even living here for years, he’d never taken the time to notice before.

“I could walk you to your apartment from here.” He nodded across the river and further west. “Should only take us about five hours. Or we could head back to the monster and I can get you back fast and warm.”

With a laugh, she turned to him as his hands slid to pull his jacket closer around her. Pulling her closer to him.