“Oh. Yes. Right. Sorry,” he said, wincing as he rubbed the stubble on his narrow chin. “They didn’t make much of a first impression, did they. Presentation is kind of stressful in the best of situations, and I did bust the chandelier.” His expression pained, he stared at his wineglass. “They billed my parents. Did you know that? Seeing as the only magic residue was from Quen and myself, and Quen was officially working for my folks.” He chuckled. “The charm on it was almost as expensive as my entire schooling.”
Head tilted back, he downed his glass. “I don’t think I ever hated anyone more than you that day when your dad gave you a hug, and mine gave me derision.”
Shocked, Trisk fumbled, finally managing, “Sorry.” She’d eaten all her pineapple, but she didn’t want to take any more and look greedy. Fidgety, she rocked on the bale of straw as the silence grew, watching the moon through the open door and wondering how she could make a tactful exit. There was a ring around it. A storm was coming.
“I have something I want you to have,” Kal said, his soft voice breaking the uncomfortable silence as he stretched for his suit coat and fumbled in a pocket. “I was going to wait—put it on a ribbon or something—but I want to give it to you now.”
Trisk felt her expression become slack. “What?” she asked, the wine in her turning sour.
His mood was hard to read as he looked at his closed hand, head low. “This is going to sound weird, but I feel as if I’ve gotten to know you better in these last couple of weeks than I get to know most women after months. I don’t want you to freak out, or think this means more than it does. Just. Here.” He held out his hand, palm side down. “This is for you. If you want it. Maybe it will make you feel better about leaving Global Genetics.”
Feeling unreal, she put her hand out. Is he serious? she thought, then blinked when a key fell into it.
“You can keep it until you want to use it,” Kal said, shifting to sit beside her, hunched and uneasy. “Or never use it. I just want you to feel welcome. That’s all.”
She looked at the gold key in her palm. The edges felt sharp against her fingers. It had just been cut. She could still smell the oil on it.
“You’re not saying anything,” Kal blurted. “Oh God. You think I’m a jerk.”
She looked up, the vulnerability in his eyes giving her pause. “It’s a key,” she managed.
“To my house in Florida,” he said, taking her free hand. “Damn it, I’m doing this all wrong. Trisk, I got you an interview at Kennedy, and you said yes, and I’m thrilled. But to be honest, I didn’t do it just because you’re one of the best genetic engineers I’ve ever had the privilege to work with. I want you to come back with me because I don’t want to lose you.”
Her pulse was fast, and she couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around what he was proposing. “This is to your house?”
He nodded, inching closer. “It’s set off the ocean about a mile or so, with a walled garden. It’s not twenty-five acres, but it’s nice, and like I said, there’s a stable ten minutes away. Orchid will probably come back with us if she doesn’t find a buck. Or she might bring him with her if she does. I don’t know. Damn it, this wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal,” he said, his features pinched. “I just wanted to let you know you could move in with me if you were comfortable with the idea.” He hesitated, his fingers falling from hers. “You want me to take my key back? Maybe I should go.”
Trisk closed her fingers over the key. She had gone into this with the intent to hurt him, and though the pain was still there, it was getting harder to justify layering it on him in turn. “No,” she said. She didn’t know what she wanted to do anymore. He wants me to move in with him? she thought. If it had been a ring, she would have kicked him out knowing it was one of his nasty ploys, but this stumbling confession and awkward admission . . . “I’ll keep it, if that’s okay,” she added, not knowing why, except that she was hurting, and this made the hurt less.
His expression was relieved when she glanced up, and she managed a smile.
“Sure. Yes,” he said. “God, yes! That’s why I wanted you to have it.” Kal exhaled, looking at her hand but clearly not sure he had the right to take it. “Wow, that was awkward. I didn’t mean for this to be such a big deal. Maybe I should leave.”
Trisk touched his hand and pulled back. “Kal, it’s fine.” On the radio, the music changed to “Deep Purple,” April Stevens’s sweet voice mingling with Nino Tempo’s in an innocent and charming expression of endearment, and Trisk smiled, curving her legs under her, up and off the floor as she tucked his key into her purse.
“It’s just the key to my house,” he said, as if trying to reassure himself. “Three thousand miles away,” he continued, looking at the stables, wine, dessert, and her sitting there with her feet curled up under her on a bale of straw. “Just shoot me now, okay? I didn’t mean for this to be so romantic. I simply didn’t want to drive away and have the night be over.”
She laughed, not wanting him to feel like he’d done anything wrong. “?‘Deep Purple’?” she said, kidding him. “That’s your idea of romance? It might be romantic for my dad. I think it’s older than him, for sure.”
Kal sat glumly beside her, elbows on his knees as he stared at nothing. “Now you’re poking fun at me.”