Taking another gulp of his drink, he waited for the burning in his chest to subside before he continued. “Can I ask why you’re doing this? I mean, you’re a successful plastic surgeon who could make tons of money doing face-lifts and boob jobs. What made you want to help these kids?” Genuinely curious, he wanted to know why someone like Dr. Klein, young, obviously wealthy, and seemingly untouched by any of the ugliness the world had to offer, cared about the unwanted kids society had no trouble throwing in the trash heap.
“Because everyone matters, that’s why. And everyone’s life should have some kind of meaning; otherwise what’s the point in getting up in the morning? When my parents were killed, I didn’t want to live, but after a while I realized I was only punishing myself.” Klein rubbed his thumb over the rim of his glass, and Ash couldn’t take his eyes off that sensuous stroking motion. “They would have been horrified if I gave up my life to mourn their deaths. I was lucky enough to have my grandmother to look after both my sister and myself. These kids have no one to make sure they get up in the morning and have something to look forward to.”
Ash’s gaze remained transfixed on Klein’s long fingers as they gripped the glass and brought it to his lips. Yeah, these kids were lucky to have someone, even a stranger, care about them. Most of them didn’t have that reason to want to get up in the morning.
He knew.
As he cleared his throat, Peterson’s harsh voice broke Ash’s internal musing. “Can you make time in your schedule, Davis, or is this going to cut into your busy social life? We need people who are dedicated to these kids and willing to give of their time. Peter’s generously giving us legal advice, but he also said you have knowledge of family court and the intricacies of the system?” He cocked a blond brow as if challenging that statement.
“I do, yes.” Without any need to further that conversation, he turned his attention back to Klein. “Dr. Klein, I commend you on this project. I’m more than willing to help in any way possible. Have you thought about setting up a help line for the kids to call in? Sometimes knowing there’s a person who cares, might be the lifeline a kid needs.”
“Please call me Drew. And yes. My sister, is finishing up her PhD in child psychology and has arranged for volunteers to man phones on a twenty-four-hour basis. She’s trying to get it hooked into the school’s counseling system for us.” He scribbled down some notes, then smiled at Ash. “That was a great question, Davis.”
“If I’m calling you Drew, then call me Ash, please.” He smiled back at the man, ignoring the disgusted “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” from Peterson. “Where’s the clinic going to be located? I’m not that familiar with Brooklyn.”
“It’s in Red Hook. There’s a family court that operates nearby so we can work with the kids who come through the system there. The construction on the clinic is about finished or should be this weekend. We’ll have two examining rooms, an outpatient operating facility for simple procedures, and a room set aside for counseling. Our other friend, Mike, is a dentist, and he’ll have a mobile dental van set up to take care of any oral problems that may present.”
Ash knew only too well how teeth could be loosened or knocked out and jaws broken. Not to mention the infections and other diseases the kids might pick up from lack of oral hygiene or other, more troubling situations. His hand tightened on his glass as unbidden memories, ones he thought he’d managed to bury, stormed to the surface. A wave of dizziness and nausea hit him, and his vision wavered.
Shit.
“You all right?” Peter murmured in his ear. “Maybe you want to take a minute.”
Sweat beaded on his brow. “Yeah.” He managed to grit that one word out as he stood. Without further explanation, he fled to the back and managed to make it to the restroom before locking himself in a stall. He slid down to the floor, heedless to the fact that it was a bathroom, and pressed his head against the coolness of the tile wall.
After several moments, the nausea and trembling passed, and he wiped his face with some tissue and stood on shaking knees. It had been months since he’d experienced anxiety such as this. Mortified at what the others at the table must think of him, he unlocked the stall door and came face-to-face with Peter.
“Better now?” Peter handed him a bottle of cold water, which he gratefully accepted. After drinking down half of it, Ash placed it on the shelf and braced his hands on the sink.
“Yeah. Thanks.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then met Peter’s somber reflection in the mirror. “What are they saying out there? You can tell me.” His laugh rang bitter within the confines of the small restroom. “I’m sure Peterson’s having a field day bashing me.”
Peter looked uncomfortable. “He isn’t your biggest fan, but I don’t think Drew is paying him too much attention. I suggest you go back and pretend like nothing happened.”
After another drink of water and a few deep breaths, Ash felt steady enough to return. He squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “Thanks. At least I know I have one friend.”
“Always, man.”
After they returned to the table, Drew simply handed him a fresh drink and picked up the conversation as if it was perfectly natural for a man to break out in a sweat and bolt from the table, only to reappear after ten minutes with no explanation.
“I took the liberty of ordering some food.” Drew handed him a menu, meeting his eyes over the top of the heavy booklet. “We haven’t ordered our main courses yet.”
No damage done, and with confidence running warm through his blood once again, Ash resorted once more to his cocky, self-assured persona. “Thanks, Drew. Guess I forgot to eat lunch today, and it all got to me suddenly.”
“No worries. Happens to all of us.”
The same cute waiter returned with the appetizers previously ordered, and Ash’s interest perked up for more than the food. When it was Ash’s turn to order dinner, he chose the house chili, extra spicy. The waiter’s eyes widened.
“Ah, sir, just to let you know, our chef already makes his chili quite hot.”
Ash chuckled and winked at the waiter, bringing a blush to his fair cheeks. How adorable. A ripple of lust flowed through Ash. “I like things extra hot and spicy.” He licked his lips and watched the eyes of the man widen, then darken with unmistakable desire. Perfect. His evening entertainment was now guaranteed. “Thank you for your concern, however.”
Flashing Ash a nervous smile, the young man collected his menu. When it came time for the waiter to take his menu, Ash made sure to brush his fingers over the young man’s hand. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the waiter bite his lip. His cock hardened, and he imagined that full mouth wrapped around his rigid cock. If he had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t be leaving the restaurant until he paid the waiter a personal visit to show him appreciation for a job well done.
Dinner progressed without further incident, and Ash remained impressed with how quickly Drew had set up this clinic. Peterson continued to be a thorn in his side making snide comments or simply shooting him glowering looks. Ash ignored Peterson completely.
Before he knew it, it was past midnight and the restaurant had emptied out. Peter had made his farewells about an hour before, needing to get home to his wife and kids. Ash caught the eyes of the sweet-faced waiter, hovering near the bar, and grinned to himself.
Showtime.
