In This Life (6 page)

Nat seemed to pick up on his discomfort and changed the subject. “So what are you guys drinking?” He picked up the bottle of Amarone and read the label. When he saw that it was half full, he added, “Check that. What
were
you guys drinking?”

“We’ll order another one,” David said, snagging the waiter’s attention.

“I’m so sorry we were late.” Lori checked her watch. “I hope you two weren’t waiting too long and had to start without us. We try so hard but we just can’t seem to get out the door in time anymore.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “It can’t be easy when you have three young boys at home. And you really weren’t late. David was just a little thirsty.”

“Must have been one hell of a thirst,” Nat said, putting down the bottle just as the waiter returned with the second one and two more glasses. When he disappeared, Nat hung an arm around the back of Lori’s chair, his navy jacket and white shirt stretching tight across his chest. Then he surveyed David’s tanned skin. “Looks like your down time’s agreeing with you, D-Man. Got some good ole fun in the sun going for your time off?”

David shrugged. “Beach. Fishing. Some hoops.”

“What? No golf?”

“Are you kidding?” I said. “David’s still paying off all those divots he made last year.”

“First time and last time,” David said. “And never again.”

“Sounds like some good vacation, anyway.” Nat poured wine for himself and Lori. “But if it’s going so good, why the puss on your face when we walked in? You looked like you were ready to hit someone.”

I held my breath because this was the last thing the conversation needed.

“Probably gas.” David sent Nat a smile and a look that said
drop it
.

“Gotcha.” Nat held up his glass and we toasted to Lori’s first anniversary of her twenty-ninth year. When he set his wine back on the table, he said, “I thought maybe Lottie was giving you a hard time over the whole psychological evaluation you need done.”

David froze with the wineglass at his lips.

“What evaluation?” I asked.

Nat looked at me then at David. “Oh crap. Tell me you didn’t ask her yet.”

David put his glass down and shot Nat another look, this one even more impatient. “I didn’t ask her yet.”

“Ask me what?” I said.

“Hey, don’t get bent out of shape over this,” Nat said. “It’s been, what? Two weeks now? Just how long were you thinking of waiting? You told me the other day that you were going to do this before the weekend.”

“Ask me what?” I repeated, tuning into the fact that something significant was going on and I knew nothing about it.

“I didn’t ask,” David said. “And it’s not important.”

“You gotta give the brass an answer next
week
,” Nat said.

“Nat.” Lori rested her hand on top of his. “I don’t think this is the time — ”

“It’s for the new guy who’s supposed to join David’s team,” Nat said, looking at me now. “Eddie Spellman’s replacement.”

David turned on Nat. “Didn’t I just say that this could wait?”

“No. You said that it wasn’t important.”

David and Nat stared at one another and I held my breath, waiting for the scales to tip in the wrong direction.

“Hey,” I said, holding up my glass for another toast. “This is Lori’s birthday, so let’s promise not to talk business tonight. Okay?”

Lori lifted her glass, eager to change the subject, but neither David nor Nat responded. I clinked my glass against David and Nat’s on the table, hoping to get their attention. Then I had to clink again.

Nat shrugged and David backed off and the four of us toasted the birthday girl a second time. As my glass hit David’s, I caught his eye and sent him a silent message.

You’re off the hook for now but we’re talking about this later.

And later could have taken forever. Dinner turned out to be more fun than I had expected. We talked about movies and books and good wine, and joked about our “old age” and nosy parents and shows we watched on television. We laughed more loudly than we should have but none of us cared. We were best friends, finding a way to make the most of it.

Three hours later, we headed for Nirvana, a nightclub a half hour north of Dolce’s. Any thought of David and me ending the night early or alone was long gone. We were having too much fun, and that meant I now had the chance to ask David the one question that had been gnawing at me throughout dinner. For some couples, bringing up a touchy subject on the heels of a great celebration meant a hefty fight. But good food, good wine, and great company always put David at his most receptive, and I intended to take advantage of it.

“Tell me about this evaluation,” I said.

Streetlights flickered over David’s shadowed features while we headed north on Route 110, and he peeked in the SUV’s rear view mirror, most likely to make sure Nat’s red Mustang was still behind. He glanced at me, shook his head and smiled.

“I should have known you weren’t going to let this rest until tomorrow.”

“You can blame Nat for that.”

“I already did but I doubt he noticed.” David kept his eyes fixed on the darkened street and passing cars.

“You’re probably right. Subtle for Nat is getting hit on the head with a brick.”

David stopped at a red light and thought things over. “This guy’s name is Galen Briscoe and he’s supposed to transfer into my team. I need to know what he’s about. What makes him tick.”

“See, this is what I don’t understand, David.” I turned in my seat to face him.“I know PROs has procedures for this kind of thing, and that all new hires have to go through psychological evaluation and profiling.”

“Yeah, they do. And Galen was thoroughly vetted by one of our psychiatrists.”

“So what’s the problem? Why involve me? Better yet, why not tell me to begin with? Nat made it sound like you’ve been sitting on this for weeks.”

“I intended to ask you. But then you got sick and I figured that wasn’t the time.”

“I appreciate the thought, but you still had the entire week before I got sick to say something.”

The light turned green, David’s foot went to the accelerator and the SUV took off.

“Too close to Eddie’s funeral.” David’s abruptness made it sound like he wanted to shut the conversation down. Eddie’s death had hurt him, and more than he wanted to admit.

“Discussing Eddie’s replacement is too painful for you, and you’re not ready. I can understand that.”

“The thing is,” David said, navigating through a left turn, “I think Galen’s file has been doctored so he could gain clearance to join my team. That’s why I want your input.”

“What makes you think Galen’s file has been tampered with?”

We came to another red light and David paused. “It’s just a gut feeling I have, like he’s hiding something. I can’t explain what it is but there’s something about this guy that just rubs me the wrong way, and I don’t think his file is telling the entire story.”

I blew out a long, edgy sigh. “This isn’t as easy as it sounds. You know that, right?”

I knew that he did because we’d discussed it before and often enough. Like David’s, my career had its rules, too.

“Because of your relationship with me you become a biased party in his evaluation, which means you can’t do it.”

“Exactly.”

“But not if Galen agrees to the eval, right?” David’s gaze held mine, the quiet seconds between us broken when Nat honked his horn from behind. The light had turned green. We drove ahead one block and made a left.

“You asked Galen to make an appointment with me?”

“Yes.”

“And he agreed?”

“Yes. And the brass at PROs are onboard with it.”

I rested an elbow on my door, dropped my head in my hand and watched the bustling nighttime activity as we drove through downtown Huntington. Twenty-somethings crammed at bar entrances, trying to get inside, and couples enjoyed the warm Friday night, strolling hand in hand.

And I was sitting in an SUV, worrying about losing my license to practice psychology.

“A doctor sees a doctor when they’re sick, right? And a therapist sees a therapist when they need help,” David said. “Just because Galen was evaluated internally doesn’t mean he can’t seek guidance externally. I’ve been stitched up by PROs’ physicians dozens of times, Lottie, but I still see my own doctor for everything else. This isn’t as out of the ordinary as you might think.”

We pulled up behind a line of cars waiting to turn into Nirvana’s parking lot. David clicked on his blinker, rested his arm over the steering wheel, and gave me his complete attention.

“Galen wants to serve with me and he’s willing to do what it takes to get what he wants. And PROs just wants to make sure this is the right decision for all of us. A decision that’s ultimately mine.”

“So why do I still feel like something here is wrong?”

David stroked my cheek and cupped my chin in his hand. “I trust you above everyone else in this world. And if you give me a good reason to invalidate Galen, that’s all I need to do so.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I guess my gut feeling was wrong.”

My stomach flip-flopped over the thought. Instinct was a very powerful component of the human psyche. It was what often fueled our fight-or-flight response and what helped our species survive through the millennia. It was also what made me feel pressured now.

David pulled the SUV up to Nirvana’s parking attendant and keyed off the ignition. “Will you do it?” he asked.

I nodded even though I still wasn’t sure. “Yes. I’ll see Galen on Monday.”

He kissed my cheek and got out of the truck, happy. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t been kidding when I told David that something about this felt wrong. Like David, my gut instinct was humming on this one, too.

The problem was that I couldn’t figure out why.

Lori and Nat followed us inside Nirvana, a brand new nightclub that throbbed with colored lights, bass music, and pulsating bodies. The four of us circled the darkened area surrounding the crowded dance floor, bumping into patrons and cutting off conversations until we found an empty corner near the back. It had no tables or chairs but we didn’t care. Real estate was at a premium at Nirvana, and we were lucky to have found the spot.

David and Nat started talking about the Yankees season and Lori gave me a familiar look and a shrug. I knew what it meant. She wanted to do girl talk and the secondary bar we passed to get to the dance floor would be perfect for it. I told David that we were going for a drink and that we’d return right after, and he sent me off with a kiss and a reminder to keep my promise.

Lori and I elbowed our way through the crowd, squeezed through the heavy glass doors that opened to the other bar and found two empty stools off to the right. The bartender, a guy who looked near thirty and had a blonde ponytail and four gold hoop earrings, hopped on our order. Chardonnay for Lori. Diet Coke for me.

The bar was smaller than the main one near the dance floor, but it was the perfect spot to catch a breather or cool down or have conversation without shouting over loud music. It carried a Manhattan appeal with a glittering black granite bar, leather and brushed chrome stools, and rows of multi-colored glasses that hung from overhead, brushed chrome racks. I watched the bartender tend to our order and felt Lori’s gaze settle on me. I dropped a twenty on the bar to settle the bill and looked at her.

“Here’s to your birthday,” I said, raising my glass to hers. “And to many, many more happy ones.”

We clinked and sipped and the bartender tossed an empty bottle under the counter. Lori winced when it clattered against the other empties in the bin.

“Are you and David okay?” she asked, swiveling toward me. “He didn’t look right when Nat and I got to the restaurant. I thought maybe we interrupted something.”

The patrons at the bar cheered and high fived when the Yankees hit a single to tie the game.

“He’s having a hard time dealing with Eddie’s death,” I said. “That’s all it was.”

The crowd cheered again when the Yankees got another base runner, and the cheering grew louder when the next batter homered in the winning runs. The guy next to me whistled, and the sharp sound cut through my ears and into my brain, and then the earth shifted underneath me. I grabbed the bar to steady myself and saw Lori’s mouth move but couldn’t hear a single word she was saying. I only heard the cheering and the applause.

And a group of women singing.

I scanned the bar again but was no longer looking at the people watching the game. Instead, naked women were dancing across a blue and yellow tiled floor, kicking up canna lilies that were strewn across it as they shook sistrums and sang. I was at a celebration but did not feel like celebrating.

As I watched the dancers, I felt him move in next to me. I felt his heat and smelled the spicy scent I had come to associate only with him. He offered a cup of wine with three lotus petals floating on top, the outer edges of their bright blue color stained a deeper shade of red. He held his own cup and his eyes met mine, and in his gaze, I saw an unspoken promise of what was to come.

He sipped the wine and licked his lips and I found myself doing the same, unable to deny the need to admire the beauty of his mouth and the daring in his eyes.

“Lottie?” Lori grabbed my arm. “Are you okay?”

The dancers disappeared and I found Lori looking at me. I nodded and attempted a smile. “I’m fine.”

“I told Nat we should have postponed dinner, but he insisted you were feeling better.” She took my soda and placed it on the bar next to her empty wine glass. “We should go home.”

“No. This is your night. I’ll be fine.”

I looked around the bar, trying to ground myself back to the here and now. I noticed a few couples but mostly saw women checking out men and men canvassing for women. I watched a young brunette twirl her curly hair around a finger while she talked to an older man in a suit. A guy in jeans and a denim jacket edged up to a blonde woman also wearing jeans and a denim jacket. He offered to buy her a drink. The man next to them sat alone and was watching me.

The muted lighting shadowed his features but I could see his dark gaze pinned to mine. He had short brown hair that framed a lean face and striking brown eyes. He also seemed familiar.