“I’m glad you did,” Laurie said. She studied him. He avoided her eyes.
“Guess I’d better get back to my office,” Lou said. He nervously glanced around, making sure no one was paying them any attention.
“Is there something you’d like to say?” Laurie asked. “You’re acting suspiciously familiar.”
“Yeah,” Lou said, finally making eye contact. “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight, purely social, no business?”
Laurie smiled at this replay of Lou’s painful social awkwardness. It was particularly unexpected now that they had worked together on the Cerino case and knew each other better. In all other respects Lou was decisive and confident.
“We could go back to Little Italy,” Lou said in response to Laurie’s hesitation.
“You never give a girl much warning,” Laurie said.
Lou shrugged. “It gives me an excuse to myself if you refuse.”
“Unfortunately I have plans,” Laurie said.
“Of course,” Lou said hastily. “Silly of me to ask. Well, take care.” Lou abruptly turned. “Say hello to Jordan for me,” he called over his shoulder.
Laurie felt a surge of old irritation as she watched Lou stride toward the double doors. She fought against the urge to snap back at him. He had not lost his penchant to be infuriating.
The doors to the autopsy room shut behind Lou, and Laurie turned back to her job at hand. But she hesitated.
Then, stripping off her rubber gloves, her apron and gown, Laurie strode from the autopsy room. The hall was clear. Lou had already disappeared. Guessing he was in the locker room, Laurie pushed directly into the men’s side.
Laurie caught Lou with his scrub shirt half off, exposing his muscled and hairy chest. Self-consciously he lowered the garment.
“I resent your implication that I’d be seeing Jordan Scheffield,” Laurie said, her arms akimbo. “You know full well he was implicated in this whole affair.”
“I know he was implicated,” Lou said. “But I also know the grand jury did not indict him. I also made it a point to learn that the Board of Medicine didn’t even discipline him even though there was a strong suspicion that he knew what was going on. In fact, some people believe that Jordan discussed the affair with Cerino but did nothing because he liked the increase in surgery it provided. So Jordan’s out there pulling in the big bucks like nothing happened.”
“And you think I’d still be seeing him under these conditions?” Laurie asked incredulously. “That’s an insult.”
“I didn’t know,” Lou said sheepishly. “You never mentioned him.”
“I thought it was clear,” Laurie said. “Besides, with as close as we have been working together, you could have asked.”
“I’m sorry,” Lou said. “Maybe it’s more that I was afraid you were still seeing him. You remember that I admitted I’ve always been a bit jealous of him.”
“He is the last person you should feel jealous of,” Laurie said. “Jordan would be lucky to have an ounce of your honesty and integrity.”
“I’d like an ounce of his schooling,” Lou said. “Or his sophistication. He always made me feel like a second-class citizen.”
“His urbanity is superficial,” Laurie said. “The only thing he is truly interested in is money. The embarrassment for me is that I was as blind to Jordan as I was to what Cerino was doing. I was bowled over by the rush he gave me and his apparent self-confidence. You saw through his facade, but I couldn’t, even when you told me directly.”
“That’s not your fault,” Lou said. “You think better of people than I. You’re not the cynical bastard I am. Besides, you’re not laboring under a hangup about your background like I am.”
“You should be proud of your background,” Laurie said. “It’s the source of your honesty.”
“Yeah,” Lou said. “But I’d still rather have gone to Harvard.”
“When I told you I had plans tonight, I was hoping you might have suggested we get together tomorrow night or next week. As prosaic as it sounds, I’m going to my parents’ tonight. What about you coming with me?”
“You’re kidding,” Lou said. “Me?”
“Yes,” Laurie said, warming to the idea. “One of the positive spinoffs of this whole affair with Cerino is my relationship with my parents has improved dramatically. For once my father even recognized that I’d done something he could relate to in a positive way, and I think I’ve grown up a tad myself. I’ve even stopped rebelling. I think dealing with this affair has finally allowed me to come more or less to terms with my old guilt in relation to my brother’s death.”