Read Online Acceptable Risks by Natalie J. Damschroder - Free Book Online
Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder
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leader than he is,” Matthew assured her, but in a practical, not pandering, tone. “You relate to people, get the best out of them.”
She couldn’t help the blush spreading over her entire body. “Thank you. He does have the research background, though. Maybe a co-leadership would be best?”
Matthew nodded. “Sure, that could work.”
“Okay. Good.” Tension soaked out of her, and she smiled, feeling more at ease than she ever had with him.
More silence, though she didn’t think his attention went as far away this time. “Do you want to—I don’t know, go get a drink? Or dinner?” came out of her mouth before she realized she was going to say it. Mortified, she stood and took off her lab coat, turning away to hang it on the rack in the corner so she couldn’t see Matthew’s face. So he couldn’t see hers, suddenly flaming.
“It sounds great.”
She could hear regret in his voice—the upcoming “but”—and didn’t have the experience to know if it was real or fake. “It’s okay,” she said, “I’m sure you have plans with someone. I just thought, since you were at loose ends…” Though she’d turned back to face him, she kept her gaze on her desk while she retrieved her purse and glasses case.
“No, I definitely don’t.” This time he sounded amused, but he’d stood and begun moving toward the door. “I don’t feel like going out anywhere, though. I’ll just head back to the house and wait for Jase to check in again.”
“Okay.” She smiled nervously and followed him out of her office, locking it and the lab as they went out to the hall. She headed for the elevator but stopped when Matthew didn’t join her. He walked a few paces in the other direction, toward the stairs.
“Have a good weekend, Dr. Berwell.” Then he disappeared through the fire door at the end of the hall.
“It’s Gabby,” she whispered, letting go all hope he’d ever remember.
* * *
Matthew pounded up the sixth flight of stairs, halfway from the sub-basement lab to his office on the top floor. Gabby hadn’t asked, but if she had, he’d have told her it was part of his commitment to ongoing conditioning. Part of the job, more now than ever, with the flux the company was in.
It would have been a lie.
For the first two months after Jason tipped over that railing, Matthew hadn’t been able to enter an office building stairwell. Weakness was unacceptable. As soon as he knew Jason would make it, Matthew forced himself to face his fear. The long runs up and down, to and from the lab on a regular basis, had kept him in the best shape of his life, but also gave him plenty of time to come to terms with his problem.
He wasn’t into self-analysis in general, but he’d been through enough to understand its value. Growing up in gang territory, he’d seen things that had shaped him, carved him—even gouged him. Joining a non-military black ops organization hadn’t been the escape he’d intended it to be. He’d only shared his past with two people: Jason and Kelly. She had taught him how to be happy, and when she died, he refused to disgrace her memory by turning his back on that happiness. Jason helped, probably more than he realized. Back then, understanding himself, his feelings, and his role in his daughter’s life had been the key to staying out of the darkness.
Somehow, it wasn’t working now.
He pushed harder around the eighth floor landing, his breath blowing out in short bursts. It didn’t take a genius psychologist to tell him why he hated stairwells now. He didn’t expect bullets to come flying down every flight, or dark shapes to attack him from under landings. No, it was that image, the horror of Jason’s crashing fall, that made it so difficult.
Gabby thought he was gay. He slowed at the ninth floor and checked the door, making sure it was locked. Telling her he wasn’t would have made things even more awkward between them. He wasn’t too preoccupied to notice her crush. But he didn’t have
She couldn’t help the blush spreading over her entire body. “Thank you. He does have the research background, though. Maybe a co-leadership would be best?”
Matthew nodded. “Sure, that could work.”
“Okay. Good.” Tension soaked out of her, and she smiled, feeling more at ease than she ever had with him.
More silence, though she didn’t think his attention went as far away this time. “Do you want to—I don’t know, go get a drink? Or dinner?” came out of her mouth before she realized she was going to say it. Mortified, she stood and took off her lab coat, turning away to hang it on the rack in the corner so she couldn’t see Matthew’s face. So he couldn’t see hers, suddenly flaming.
“It sounds great.”
She could hear regret in his voice—the upcoming “but”—and didn’t have the experience to know if it was real or fake. “It’s okay,” she said, “I’m sure you have plans with someone. I just thought, since you were at loose ends…” Though she’d turned back to face him, she kept her gaze on her desk while she retrieved her purse and glasses case.
“No, I definitely don’t.” This time he sounded amused, but he’d stood and begun moving toward the door. “I don’t feel like going out anywhere, though. I’ll just head back to the house and wait for Jase to check in again.”
“Okay.” She smiled nervously and followed him out of her office, locking it and the lab as they went out to the hall. She headed for the elevator but stopped when Matthew didn’t join her. He walked a few paces in the other direction, toward the stairs.
“Have a good weekend, Dr. Berwell.” Then he disappeared through the fire door at the end of the hall.
“It’s Gabby,” she whispered, letting go all hope he’d ever remember.
* * *
Matthew pounded up the sixth flight of stairs, halfway from the sub-basement lab to his office on the top floor. Gabby hadn’t asked, but if she had, he’d have told her it was part of his commitment to ongoing conditioning. Part of the job, more now than ever, with the flux the company was in.
It would have been a lie.
For the first two months after Jason tipped over that railing, Matthew hadn’t been able to enter an office building stairwell. Weakness was unacceptable. As soon as he knew Jason would make it, Matthew forced himself to face his fear. The long runs up and down, to and from the lab on a regular basis, had kept him in the best shape of his life, but also gave him plenty of time to come to terms with his problem.
He wasn’t into self-analysis in general, but he’d been through enough to understand its value. Growing up in gang territory, he’d seen things that had shaped him, carved him—even gouged him. Joining a non-military black ops organization hadn’t been the escape he’d intended it to be. He’d only shared his past with two people: Jason and Kelly. She had taught him how to be happy, and when she died, he refused to disgrace her memory by turning his back on that happiness. Jason helped, probably more than he realized. Back then, understanding himself, his feelings, and his role in his daughter’s life had been the key to staying out of the darkness.
Somehow, it wasn’t working now.
He pushed harder around the eighth floor landing, his breath blowing out in short bursts. It didn’t take a genius psychologist to tell him why he hated stairwells now. He didn’t expect bullets to come flying down every flight, or dark shapes to attack him from under landings. No, it was that image, the horror of Jason’s crashing fall, that made it so difficult.
Gabby thought he was gay. He slowed at the ninth floor and checked the door, making sure it was locked. Telling her he wasn’t would have made things even more awkward between them. He wasn’t too preoccupied to notice her crush. But he didn’t have
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