Leaning forward, Marissa handed over her notes. “I thought that you might be interested in looking at these.” Dubchek accepted the papers and glanced through them while Marissa talked.
In a chronological fashion, Marissa described what she’d been doing since her arrival in L.A. She made a convincing argument that Dr. Richter was the index case and that he was the source of the Ebola, spreading the disease to some of his patients. She explained his relationship to Helen Townsend and then described the two medical meetings that Dr. Richter had attended. The sponsoring organizations were sending complete lists of the attendees, with their addresses and phone numbers, she added.
Throughout her monologue Dubchek nodded to indicate that he was listening, but somehow he seemed distracted, concentrating more on her face than on what she was saying. With so little feedback, Marissa trailed off and stopped speaking, wondering if she were making some fundamental professional error. After a sigh, Dubchek smiled. “Good job,” he said simply. “It’s hard to believe that this is your first field assignment.” He stood up at the sound of a knock on the door. “Thank goodness. That must be dinner. I’m starved.”
The meal itself was mediocre; the meat and vegetables Dubchek had ordered were lukewarm. Marissa wondered why they couldn’t have gone down to the dining room. She’d thought that he’d intended to talk business, but as they ate, the conversation ranged from Ralph’s dinner party and how she came to know him, to the CDC and whether or not she was enjoying her assignment. Toward the end of the meal Dubchek suddenly said, “I wanted to tell you that I am a widower.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Marissa sincerely, wondering why the man was bothering to inform her about his personal life.
“I just thought you should know,” he added, as if reading her mind. “My wife died two years ago in an auto accident.”
Marissa nodded, once again uncertain how to reply.
“What about you?” asked Dubchek. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Marissa paused, toying with the handle of her coffee cup. She had no intention of discussing her breakup with Roger. “No, not at the moment,” she managed to tell him. She wondered if Dubchek knew that she had been dating Tad. It had not been a secret, but it wasn’t public knowledge either. Neither of them had told people at the lab. Suddenly Marissa felt even more uncomfortable. Her policy of not mixing her personal and professional lives was being violated, she felt. Looking over at Dubchek, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that she found him attractive. Perhaps that was why he made her feel so uncomfortable. But there was no way she was interested in a more personal relationship with him, if that was what this was leading up to. All at once she wanted to get out of his room and return to her work.
Dubchek pushed back his chair and stood up. “If we’re going back to the clinic maybe we should be on our way.”
That sounded good to Marissa. She stood up and went over to the coffee table to pick up her papers. As she straightened up, she realized that Dubchek had come up behind her. Before she could react, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. The action so surprised her that she stood frozen. For a brief moment their lips met. Then she pulled away, her papers dropping to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t planning that at all, but ever since you arrived at CDC I’ve been tempted to do that. God knows I don’t believe in dating anyone I work with, but it’s the first time since my wife died that I’ve really been interested in a woman. You don’t look like her at all-Jane was tall and blond-but you have that same enthusiasm for your work. She was a musician, and when she played well, she had the same excited expression I’ve seen you get.”
Marissa was silent. She knew she was being mean, that Dubchek certainly had not been harassing her, but she felt embarrassed and awkward and was unwilling to say something to ease over the incident.