Christopher was quiet in the car, but we didn’t go far, just a couple of blocks to a sushi place. Once we’d ordered our usual way, we talked about what had happened at the hospital.
“Out with it,” he said. “What went wrong?”
“I think it went right.”
Christopher’s face told me he thought otherwise, but he didn’t interrupt.
“It’s his serum. I think he designed it to inhibit emotions. It suppresses any memory tied to strong emotion. He figured out what part of the brain was targeted by the scorpion venom and used that knowledge.”
“Do you think it’s permanent?” Christopher furrowed his brow.
I shrugged.“We’ll have to wait and see.”
“He sent us away. He won’t put up with us hanging around or calling to check on him.” Christopher separated his chopsticks and rubbed them together, the sound both annoying and soothing. “What will I tell Mom and Dad?”
Christopher had a point. We would only know Brandon was better if he contacted us.
“If it doesn’t wear off, we could ambush him and inject him with his antidote.”
“Desperate times…”I imagined us following Brandon into a parking garage, Christopher wrestling him into a darkened corner, while I injected him with the antidote.
“I wasn’t a criminal until I met you,” Christopher said, leaning over to take my face in his large, gentle hands. “Not even an imaginary one. What would I do without you, Lizzie?”
“Let’s not find out.”
His answer was a very thorough kiss that drew looks from the other diners.
“Maybe we should go out to the car and make out like teenagers.”
He threw back his head and laughed. It wasn’t that funny, but laughing helped relieve his tension.
For all that our gamble with the antivenom had worked and Brandon was awake, his emotional amnesia was a problem. After three months with the serum in his system, I was afraid the effects were permanent.
Chapter 18
The next Friday, the eighth of December, was the office Christmas party and our first work event as a couple. I hated parties and social gatherings, but Christopher was a force to be reckoned with. He was the life of any party. The part I looked forward to was dressing up. Most days I wore jeans, but I liked to wear skirts and dresses on occasions as they made me feel desirable.
“I won’t drink like last time,” he said. “I was miserable, worried sick, and an idiot.”
Christopher wore black dress pants and a white shirt with a striped red and green tie as a nod to Christmas. His crisp white shirt looked like it had come fresh from the dry cleaner. I loved a man that could iron.
I’d taken my insurance money and bought another black dress. Association with Eric and his creepy note spoiled the original. We hadn’t seen Eric and while I hoped we’d seen the last of him, I didn’t believe it. I hated the feeling of waiting, looking over my shoulder. I’d done enough of that for a lifetime, but he was out there somewhere.
“You look good enough to eat,” Christopher said, as I twirled for him, the full skirt swirling around my knees.
I liked the swishy sound it made.“Maybe we should stay home instead.”
“You’re not getting out of wearing your sexy clothes,” he said with a wink.
“I’m going to stick to you like glue,”I warned.
“Please do. It’ll make up for me being such an ass at the last party.”
“What did you do besides get rip-roaring drunk, threaten to drive, and follow me home?”
“I might have hit on the boss’s wife,” he said with a grimace.
I laughed.“Mrs. Brown? This is the first I’m hearing of this.”
