Page 13 of Elliot

She stared at him. Oh, God, she’d really been insensitive again, hadn’t she? “I do. Listen, you don’t have to tell me anything else.”

He picked up a piece of beef from his plate and stared at it. “There were other areas where Guardian was attacked. I was in charge of a large team, separated into day and night shifts. I worked almost exclusively with the day shift. I had a supervisor covering the night hours. One of my night shift guys wanted to switch shifts so he could watch his daughter’s dance recital that night and not worry about rushing off afterward. I hadn’t worked a night shift in a while, so I traded with him. While I was napping, getting ready for work, every person on my team was slaughtered.” He dropped the meat and carefully placed the chopsticks on his plate. “Money can’t make me happy, Ms. Callahan. Money can’t bring them back. I don’t want money; it isn’t important to me. It never will be.”

Maya’s eyes filled with tears, but probably not for the reason he thought. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged and stood up. “Thank you.” He picked up his plate and took it to the counter.

“Elliot, I’m glad you had that.”

He turned and looked at her. His confusion was painted across his face, so she clarified, “I’m glad you had relationships with people that mattered. That you cared for them, and they cared for you. I know you suffered and are probably still suffering from their loss, but I would give every penny I’ve made and any amount Iwillmake to have hada single relationshipthat was true, where I wasn’t used for who I know or what I have. To have someone that mattered …” She sniffed and wiped at her tears. “That doesn’t exist in my world. I think you’re lucky to have had it even if it was ripped away from you.”

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “I was lucky.” The words were low, and she barely heard them.

She glanced down at the food, which had hardly been touched. “I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.”

“You didn’t.” He moved back to the table and grabbed another plate. “I’m not a fan of the beef and broccoli. Too sweet for my taste.” He poured a good amount of fried rice onto his plate, then pointed to her dinner. “You should eat.”

She nodded and took a small bite. “I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.”

He shrugged. “I’ve learned how to live with the memories, the guilt, the pain.”

“Guilt?”

“Survivor’s guilt. I had all the classic symptoms. Guilt, depression, isolation. The work I was doing pulled me through it, and I sought professional help, but the memory of responding that day will never go away. As I said, I’ve learned how to live with what happened.” He took a bite of his food before changing the topic. “I’d like to shoot the bastard who taught you relationships weren’t true or possible.”

She blinked and snapped her head up to look at him. “What?”

“Whoever the asshole was who hurt you so bad you don’t believe a true relationship will ever happen for you should be shot. I can do that for you. I have a gun. Just sayin’.”

Maya smiled and then laughed. The ludicrousness of the offer and the cocked eyebrow and half-smile it was said with was meant to lighten the conversation, and it did. She shook her head. “I think the state of New York would be upset with you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, shooting the son of the senator would be frowned upon, right?”

“Is he the one who hurt you?”

The smile fell from her face. “Hurt? No. Shattered into a million pieces, yes.” Maya shook off the familiar feeling of regret. “But that was years ago, and you know what I’ve found out? He wasright. People who exist where I now make my livingnevermake themselves vulnerable. To do so is to make yourself avictim. It was a damn good lesson that has kept me from being used.”

“How so?”

“I fell in love with him. I thought he shared the same feelings. He told me he did. I was young, and at that time, I believed in the charming prince who would ride in and pull me from my circumstances and rescue me.”

“He didn’t rescue you.”

It was a statement, not a question. She shrugged. “His mother and father told him he needed to marry in his class. He suggested he could keep me on the side.” She growled a bit in her throat. “Keep me. Not a chance in hell. Granted, it was a tough lesson, but one that once learned proved to be valuable.”

“A rather caustic way to go through life.”

She shrugged. “I won’t get close to anyone to protect myself.” She reached for another wonton. “Tell me that’s not the same for you.”

Elliot stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and frowned. “For different reasons.”

She nodded in agreement. “True, but the end result is the same. Relationships cause vulnerability, and vulnerability invites a host of problems. Problems neither one of us want to deal with, am I right?”

He stared at her before taking another bite. When he finished chewing, he asked, “How did this conversation go from what makes us happy to you determining neither of us wants to deal with relationships?”

“It’s called the art of conversation.” She pointed at him with the half-eaten wonton in her chopsticks. “We both know something about each other now.”

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