Derby poked his head inside. “Didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, not at all. I was just sitting here, thinking.”
“Thinking’s hard work. I try not to do much of it.” Derby’s grin put her at ease, and she smiled back. His easygoing nature was good medicine.
“I brought you a visitor. Hope you don’t mind.” Derby opened the door a bit wider.
Her smile fell. Lukas—that snake. Using Derby to gain access to her. Probably to offer some lame apology that she would immediately throw back in his face. She narrowed her eyes at the doorframe, waiting for Lukas to show his long face so she could order him away. To her surprise, in darted Roxy, banging the door against the wall with her spring-loaded tail as she galloped through the opening.
“Roxy!” Briar held her arms open to the big yellow dog that bounded to the bed and stood on two legs, painting her face with wet kisses. “It’s so good to see you, girl.” Briar scratched Roxy’s back and rubbed the top of her massive head. She buried her nose in the dog’s warm fur. “She smells fantastic.”
“Thanks. Gave her a bath this morning. Thought I’d wait until she was good and dry before letting her anywhere near the lab this time. Didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Briar held her palms under Roxy’s jowls and planted a kiss between the dog’s big brown eyes. “You’re a sweet baby.” Roxy licked Briar on the chin and then lowered her front legs to the floor. She walked in a circle, finding just the right slice of tile to curl up on.
“Time for her afternoon nap,” Derby said. “Guess we should be going.”
“No, don’t go. I’m enjoying the company. Let me pull you up a chair so we can visit.” She slid from the mattress and shuffled to the desk, turning the chair to face the bed. “You won’t get in trouble for hanging out in my room, will you?”
“Nah. I’ve had all my shots,” he said with a wink. He sat down and leaned back, pulling an ankle to his knee.
She shrugged. “That’s not saying much—so have I.”
Derby frowned for a moment, and then grinned. “SAP joke. I get it.”
Briar joined in his laughter as she tugged the covers from the bed, piling them on and around Roxy, who let out a content sigh. “It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to for a while. Someone civil, that is.” She shot a bitter glance to the doorway as she sat on the bed.
“Hope I don’t disappoint you. I’m not very interesting.”
“Are you kidding? What’s more interesting than being a hot air balloon pilot?”
Derby nodded. “You got me there. Ballooning never loses its excitement.”
“Can you describe it to me? With the exception of the plane ride here, I’ve never been off the ground.”
He frowned and tugged the bill of his hat down and back up a couple of times. “Trying to think of how to explain it. Guess the closest I could come, would be to say it’s like being in love. Floating on air. Not thinking about eating, sleeping, or any of the other things you think about when your feet are stuck to the earth. Yep. Being in love. That’s what ballooning is like.”
“I wouldn’t know.” But she almost did. Lukas flashed through her mind. Pre-betrayal Lukas. Before the sedative incident. Briar shifted her gaze from Derby’s. “But I suspect it’s a great feeling.”
“The best. Let me describe it another way. A way you can relate to.”
Briar returned her gaze to Derby.
“I remember you telling me you enjoy interacting with kids.”
Briar nodded. “I love kids. I’m going to be a child psychologist.”
“There’s your example. Imagine the way you feel when you make a child giggle—or outright laugh. Maybe a little one who doesn’t have much to smile about. Think about that instant peace that coats your insides. The sensation of your heart, so filled with love it’ll float to the clouds and take you with it. That unshakable notion that in that moment, everything is right and beautiful and perfect. That is what ballooning is like.”
“Wow.” Briar breathed the word out in a sigh. For the first time, she could imagine floating miles above the earth. Really imagine it. How cool it would be, if hot air ballooning could be used in children’s therapy. Maybe she could make it happen someday. Now that the abstergent was close to being a reality, the possibility seemed attainable. Once her Agathi were dissolved, she could not only make a child laugh via flexpane, she could tickle their ribs. Hug them. Wipe away their tears.
“Most incredible feeling in the world.” Derby uncrossed his leg, thumping his boot to the floor. “I’m still trying to get Reid to go up in the balloon with me, but she’ll have no part of it.”
Reid. The name sent Briar crashing to reality. Reid was the last person she wanted to think about right now—with the exception of Lukas. On second thought, maybe Reid did need to go up in a hot air balloon. Way, way up. To view the world from new heights instead of slithering around the lab making Briar miserable. And she could take Lukas up there with her.
“Where did you learn to fly?” She asked, anxious to get her mind off the diabolical duo.
“It’s not really flying. It’s floating. Got my license eight years ago at a facility in New Mexico. Place called Dreamers. They have pilot training all year round there. The course takes about three and a half weeks and costs five grand, not counting the propane. They even provide the balloon, but it costs less to use your own—so that’s what I did. Granted, the balloon I had back then wasn’t as flashy as Dr. Stone’s—didn’t have a fancy logo on the side or anything. But it was mine. Saved and scraped for months to get that faded old balloon, then saved and scraped some more to pay for licensing.” He shook his head. “I’d have to say it was worth every penny. I’ll never forget the first time I took her up on my own.”
“How do they fly—float?”
“It’s actually pretty simple. The design’s stayed basically the same for the past hundred years except for a few minor modifications—Lukas could give you the technical spiel on those. There’s a propane burner inside the balloon that heats the air. Hot air is lighter than cool air, so the balloon rises. The altitude is adjusted by opening or closing the propane valve. A balloon can’t really be steered, it floats with the wind. But when you adjust the altitude, you can find currents of air to guide it. That means no two balloon flights are ever the same. You never know exactly where you’re going.” He grinned. “If that’s not a metaphor for life, I don’t know what is.”
Briar tilted her head. “How high do they go?”
“I usually keep her at a couple thousand feet, but she’ll go higher. Highest I’ve taken her is double that—a little over four thousand. But I’d rather take it easy on my fuel—and my nerves.” He gave Briar another wink. “I’d be glad to take you for a ride sometime.”
She lifted her foot and bounced it in the air, jiggling her shackle. “Thanks, but I doubt that will happen. At least, not for a while.”
“Shame.” He shook his head at the ankle monitor. “The annual hot air balloon festival is coming up this weekend. Balloons will be here from all over the country. So many colors, your eyes can barely take them all in. Every year thousands of people pour in to Sickle Ridge to participate. Maybe I can talk the doctor into letting you venture outside for a bit to watch the sky.”
“That would be amazing.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Derby stood and gave a soft whistle.
Roxy let out a huge, squeaky yawn, stretched, and rose to her feet.
“Come on, Rox. Time to get back to work. Tell Miss Briar goodbye.”
Briar scooted from the bed and knelt beside the dog, scratching her behind the ears. “See you later, girl. Thanks for stopping by.”
“Nice visiting with you. I’ll wash the bedding.” Derby tipped his cap, scooped up Briar’s covers, and followed Roxy from the room.
~*~
Lukas wadded up another page of nonsensical drivel from his spiral notebook, took aim at the wastepape
r basket, and missed. Again. What was he doing, anyway? Composing a handwritten apology to Briar would accomplish exactly what? That he was a jerk? She’d already established that—obviously. That he regretted his decision to put a dash of barely-there sedative into her tea? If she’d been listening, she already knew that, too.
He forced a sigh through the tight line of his lips and stood. He stretched his back, readying to pick up the dozen or so paper balls scattered around the trashcan, and the streamer-like wisps of confetti that fell from the edges of the paper.
Briar would never trust him again. He’d never be able to make things right. Not ever. The knowledge sank into his chest like cactus thorns.
“Knock-knock,” Derby called, opening the door. “Here for your trash, boss.” He stepped into Lukas’s office, his eyes widening at the mess on the floor.
“Sorry, Derby, I was about to clean that up.” He stooped, picking up several bits of spiral edges from the light tile.
“I got it. No trouble at all.” Derby stepped into the hallway, returning with the broom from his cleaning cart. “Ever thought of putting carpet in here? An office should be comfortable to work in. White tile isn’t exactly cozy. Plus, paper scraps would be easier to spot on carpet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lukas said, barely listening.
“I took Roxy to visit Miss Briar a while ago. Earlier in the day I’d seen her in the hallway on the way to her room, and she looked so sad. I thought the dog might cheer her up, and boy, was I right!”
Lukas frowned. A visit from Roxy cheered her up. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He cleared his throat. “Did she say anything? About why she was sad?”
“No. But like I said, she wasn’t sad for long. Roxy perked her right up, and she started chattering like a chipmunk. She asked me to tell her all about hot air balloons. She went on and on about it. Seems she has a real interest in how they work. She mentioned wanting to take a ride in one, but being unable to because of that monitor she wears on her ankle.”
Derby dumped the last of the paper scraps from the dustpan to the wastepaper basket. He crossed the room and straightened Lukas’s hot air balloon photograph on the wall, making a bigger show of it than necessary—moving the frame this way and that, backing up to gaze at it before moving it again.
Lukas was about to tell him to stop touching the picture, it was fine exactly the way it was, when a realization hit him. Briar had shown an interest in his hot air balloon the first day she’d arrived at the lab. She’d even teased him about owning a balloon that he’d never been up in. Several times since, she’d taken good natured jabs by asking if he’d “watched his balloon float around lately.” He hadn’t taken her curiosity seriously before, but he was definitely taking it seriously now. Very seriously. He’d just found a way to make up for his unforgivable misstep with the sedative.
Lukas joined Derby in front of the picture. “Derby, the balloon festival is coming up, correct?”
“Yes sir. October third. This coming Saturday.”
Five days away. Lukas scrutinized the photograph. “Do you think it would be a good idea if I—”
“Oh, yes. Without a doubt. Miss Briar would absolutely love to go to the festival with you. You should ask her right away.” Derby slapped Lukas on the back twice, grabbed his broom and hurried from the doorway. “Goodnight, boss,” he called over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him.
Lukas blinked at the closed door. “Thanks for letting me run my idea past you,” he said to the empty space, wondering what had just happened.
~*~
Lukas stood outside Briar’s door, his knuckles an inch from the surface. He glanced at the ceiling, then down at his necktie, deciding to straighten it one more time. He didn’t really like the tie. It was too…navy blue. Maybe he’d go to his apartment and change it. Swap it for the forest green silk.
The knob rattled and the door opened. “Did you need something?” Briar glared, hand on her hip, the other still gripping the doorknob.
Her dark blue eyes snapped like lightning, vaporizing his thoughts. He had needed something—hadn’t he?
“Uh-hum?” She cleared her throat.
“I-I was walking by. I’m sorry if my footfalls disturbed you.”
She snatched her hand from the knob and stepped from the doorway. “Are you sure about that? Because I’ve been watching you through the peephole for five minutes.”
Lukas’s cheeks warmed as he relived the past five minutes in his head…holding his fist up to knock. Letting his hand drop so he could kneel to adjust his shoes. Preparing to knock again. Retracting his hand to run a palm over his hair. Raising his knuckles to the door. Pausing to inspect his shirt buttons, the ceiling, his tie…how ridiculous he must have appeared.
She crossed her arms. “Well?”
Lukas struggled to get ahold of himself. Here he stood—what was left of him, anyway—with Briar right in front of him. That had been his goal, right? The reason he’d been standing outside her door like a pizza delivery guy who’d forgotten the goods. He could do this. Not the way he’d rehearsed it, but he could still pull through. There was no guarantee she’d say yes, but he could at least pose the question. A laboratory scientist had to be able to ask a simple question. Essentially, that’s what science was—a bunch of answered questions combined with a bunch of unanswered questions.
“Listen, if you can’t say anything, I’m shutting the door. I need to get back to my—” She turned to glance over her shoulder. “Boredom.” She took a step back and pushed the door toward him.
“Wait!” Lukas stepped forward, planting his foot on the threshold, stopping the door.
Briar dragged her gaze from his leather loafer to his face.
“The Sickle Ridge Hot Air Balloon Festival starts on Saturday. It’s a huge event. The entire community will turn out for it.”
“OK?” She raised her eyebrows.
“You should come with me.”
Her eyes calmed—or did they?
“I should come with you? As your test subject? So, everyone in the community can gawk, stare, and point? No, thanks.” She squeezed the door against his shoe. “Please remove your shoe from my doorway.”
The lightning was back, looking more like bolts of ice. He’d mistaken cold for calm.
“My test subject? No, of course not. That’s ridiculous.”
“The two words I detest above all others are should and shouldn’t. You’re talking to a person who, with the exception of doctor visits, hasn’t been more than a hundred and fifty feet from home since age seven. No one has the right to put shackles on what little freedom I have left. Call me rebellious, but I will travel outside that radius every time. And since you’re so convinced I should attend the balloon festival, I’ve determined that I absolutely, positively should not.”
He’d blown it. Again. He’d spoken presumptuously. Made it sound as if she didn’t have a choice. He’d repeated the same mistake, the one that had torn out their budding relationship by the roots. He’d made the choice for her. Just as he had the night he’d slipped the sedative into her tea.
Normally, he was a fast learner. Not so in matters of the heart. Emotions weren’t cut and dried. They were uncomfortably warm, and oftentimes indirect. In those matters, he was the slowest pupil in the class. But this wasn’t a classroom. It was a field test. And this time Lukas would pass. Or die trying.
He drew in the synthetically-freshened air flowing from Briar’s room as if it was steeped with courage. He squared his shoulders and once more straightened his tie—this time with purpose. He removed his foot from the door, looked straight into Briar’s deep blue eyes, and watched the lightning fade. “I realize the choice is completely up to you. But it would be my pleasure if you would consider accompanying me to the Sickle Ridge Hot Air Balloon Festival. I would be honored to share the experience with you. Not as an associate of Stone Labs, but as my friend.”
Her eyes, still locked on his, appeared hazy
and a bit unfocused. She snapped her gaze away and turned her head, taking a sudden interest in the door hinge.
“Why?” Her voice cracked on the word. Her hand flew to her neck and she cleared her throat. “For what reason would you like to take me?”
For what reason? What kind of question was that? Lukas puzzled over the answer. She was testing him. He was sure of it. Everything inside told him he shouldn’t answer. If he did, she would know the truth. He would be exposed. Vulnerable. There’d be no going back. He should listen to his inner voice. He shouldn’t answer. Should. Shouldn’t. Lukas never realized how much he hated those words.
“Because I want to start fresh. I didn’t realize how much I truly enjoyed your company until you stopped speaking to me.” Granted, there was a point in time, early on, when Lukas thought she’d never shut up, but it was best not to say so. Seemed he’d learned a few things after all. “I miss you, Briar. There is no other person in the world I’d rather be with. And for that reason, I would love, more than anything, to take you to the balloon festival on Saturday.”
Briar blinked a few times and closed her mouth. She raised her pant leg and pointed her toe, letting him see her ankle monitor. “What about this?”
“It won’t be a problem. I’ll request a code from the OLG, allowing you to leave the lab for a predetermined length of time. I’ll carry the GPS in my pocket.”
“Meaning I can’t be more than a hundred feet from your side.”
For the first time in days, Lukas smiled. “You got it.”
Her eyes sparkled and then dimmed. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
He thought for a half-second of suggesting she borrow something from Reid—strictly as a joke—but immediately decided it wasn’t funny.
“And don’t you dare suggest I borrow something from Reid.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“What? Why would you think such a thing? I would never—” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a silver SphereSwipe card.
“What’s this?” She eyed it suspiciously.
The Commandment Page 10