My Stardust Melody, Chapter 4
Only the sound of the crisp wind on the water could be heard as the two men sat side-by-side on the wrought-iron bench. Reid felt the air stir next to him and watched as Luke jumped up nervously. The doctor regarded the younger man inquisitively, not knowing what brought on the sudden motion. He wondered if Luke was uncomfortable with silence or if he had somehow committed some unknown transgression. It would be new for Reid to provoke someone without opening his mouth, but if anyone could do so, he was sure he was capable. Still, Luke's abrupt flight seemed strange.
Reid draped one arm across the cold top of the bench and ran his free hand through his auburn curls. Who was he kidding pretending to worry about why Luke got up from his seat? Easily more curious than the young man's retreat was the fact that Reid missed his presence beside him. That reaction was more interesting and concerning than the innocent act of standing up.
"What kind of doctor are you?" Luke asked after a moment. His voice, though, didn't reveal any irritation, for which Reid was relieved.
"Neurosurgeon. What do you do?" Luke seemed to take a step farther into the darkness. So far, all the doctor had been able to make out was broad shoulders, a crisp white shirt under a tuxedo collar, and a hint of high cheekbones. Usually he could care less about someone's appearance, but he was admittedly interested in what his rescuer looked like.
"My family is in shipping and transportation."
"Ah," Reid said, "So you must be one of the many walking checkbooks parading around here." He was disappointed in the idea that Luke had likely inherited his money--usually such people were uninteresting to Reid. The doctor felt like having to earn everything that he had obtained in life had given him character. Those who had never worked for anything generally had nothing to say.
"Um, something like that." Luke sounded uncomfortable, which confused Reid. The doctor guessed that the younger man wasn't entirely at ease with having inherited a fortune.
Luke changed the topic, which confirmed Reid's opinion that he'd been embarrassed. "So, what person are you supposed to be this weekend?"
Every guest at the party had been given another identity, the name of either a famous character or historical person from the 1920s, for the weekend when they accepted their invitation. Many of the guests wholeheartedly embraced the concept and dressed in character. Reid had seen Charlie Chaplin, Teddy Roosevelt, and Greta Garbo wandering around the polished mansion this evening. Reid thought dressing up in costumes was juvenile and did not entertain the idea of donning a costume. "Sigmund Freud," he replied, rolling his eyes.
Luke quoted, "'We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love, never so forlornly unhappy as when we have lost our love object or its love.'"
Reid snorted. "That's the quote you remember from Freud? All that good stuff about sex, and you pick that one?" To be honest though, he was impressed that the other man knew anything about Freud. Most of the people at the party seemed to be either self-made businessmen who could only talk about making money or spoiled rich kids who thought college was a great place to party. He doubted anyone else inside could quote a noted psychologist. It seemed there was more to Luke than just having been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. Luke was exceptional, and Reid was intrigued.
Luke shrugged and tamped down a laugh. "It's the one that speaks to me-I can't help it. Besides, I like Jung better than Freud."
"It's all a bunch of mumbo jumbo if you ask me. All those dusty psychoanalytic concepts can now be explained by specific functions of the brain. I'd just as soon go to a fortune teller with a glowing glass ball than have one of those guys try to practice their voodoo on me."
"You're kind of blunt, aren't you?" Luke didn't seem to object to Reid's brusqueness, though.
The doctor turned his palms face up and shrugged. "I can't think of any better way to be." He wondered if he had inadvertently insulted Luke and tried to think of a safe topic that wouldn't end in the same result. The guy had just saved him from Tom; Reid owed it to him to at least try to be nice. "So, what person are you supposed to be?" he finally settled on asking.
"Jay Gatsby."
Reid lifted his brows and let out a long whistle. "You must have quite the deep pockets to have snagged that name. Isn't there a Gatsby picnic tomorrow or something?
"Something like that," Luke demurred, his reply the same as before when Reid had brought up money.
"'It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment,'" Reid quoted from memory.
Luke smiled broadly, his teeth flashing in the darkness. "You've read the book!" the young man exclaimed with delight.
"I did go to school. Isn't it on every high school reading list?"
Shaking his head, Luke replied, "Not many people remember it well enough to quote it."
Reid shrugged. "I can't help it. I have a photographic memory." He waited for the usual array of questions about his cognitive abilities, but was again surprised by the other man.
"That's great, but you bothered to quote it to me, so you must like it." He sat back down next to Reid, but still remained out of the light's reach.
"Caught, I suppose," Reid drawled.
"I always preferred 'Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope,'" Luke said in a lofty voice, the kind one uses when quoting something renowned.
"You're a Pollyanna," Reid spat in disgust. He usually found optimists truly repellent, so he was astonished to find this one so interesting. Normally, if he spoke to someone the way he just did to Luke, the other person would take offense. Somehow, he knew Luke would surprise him again.
"Caught, I suppose," Luke mimicked Reid's earlier reply. The tone matched Reid's perfectly.
Reid smiled in surprise. It wasn't often anyone stayed in a conversation with him this long, much less seem to enjoy being in that conversation. Maybe I should have his head examined. I wish I could see his face, though. If he would just lean a foot to his left, the light would hit him. His hair looks blonde, I think. Oh Christ, Oliver, get a hold of yourself. You sound like a teenage girl wondering if his eyes are blue or green. Next you'll be trying to get your best friend to find out if he likes you.
Mentally shrugging off his wayward thoughts, Reid said, "I always thought Gatsby was a fool. He gained wealth and power just so he could have a woman who wasn't worth it, and then he winds up dead."
"He loved her," Luke said.
"As if that's a good reason to waste your life," Reid derided. "She was a shallow bitter fool."
"Well, you can't choose love," Luke responded quickly to Reid. In fact, both of them had started trading thoughts at an unusually fast pace.
"Wonderful, I'm talking to a romantic optimist. Did you read that from a fortune cookie?" Without realizing it, Reid's arm had casually draped behind Luke. He quickly pulled it back, not wanting the other man to think he was interested. "Think" I'm interested? Really, Reid. Don't you mean "know"?
"There's nothing wrong with being romantic." Luke folded his arms over his chest. The frown was evident in his voice.
Reid scoffed, "There is when you spend your life working toward someone who isn't worth it."
Luke tipped his head to the side and said, "Maybe Gatsby needed a reason to work so hard to build that fortune, something to give him hope."
Reid instantly replied, "He should have chosen a better reason and appreciated the things he had. Look what his 'hope' cost him."
"What would be a better reason?" Luke asked.
"Love of the work itself? Of money?" Reid paused, sucked in his cheeks, and then stated, "Something pragmatic."
"Like a pragmatic love of someone?" Luke inquired.
"Yes."
"Good luck finding such a thing, Dr. Oliver. I've never seen an example of pragmatic love."
Raising his brows in amused contempt, Reid queried, "And you know this from vast experience? How old are you?"
"Twenty-three."
The doctor clapped his long hands together and laughed smugly. "Ha. You've barely seen anything."
Luke leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "And how old are you that you can say that the only thing worth living for must be pragmatic?"
"Thirty. If you have trouble counting, that's seven more years than you." He raised his hands to display seven digits.
Luke was hardly finished, however. "You're a doctor, so you must have been in school for a long while?"
Reid scratched his head a little nervously. He had some idea of where Luke was taking this argument. "Not as long as most. I graduated early, but I finished residency about two years ago."
"You probably didn't have a social life to speak of," Luke deduced.
Affronted, Reid replied, "It wasn't that bad."
Luke laughed. "Well, my guess is that you can't say you've seen much of love yourself to claim it can be pragmatic."
"But I'm a genius, so I can figure it out," Reid boasted. He had to admit that he was enjoying this debate. Every word was coming out in a rush--it was like a lightning chess match between two rivals. Knowledge and strategy were instinctive in their reactions to each other. Their brains were trying to keep ahead of the other's, and the feeling was exhilarating.
Unimpressed by Reid's bravado, Luke said, "Being cerebral doesn't make you an expert in matters of the heart."
"Which is probably why I prefer to avoid them," Reid responded matter-of-factly.
"Ha, I think you just proved my point-you're not an expert," Luke said triumphantly. "Do you concede?"
"Never," the doctor replied with mock severity.
They both stopped, nearly out of breath from their quick debate. The men shared a moment of silence, both rather pleased with the other person and grinning. Each felt like they understood the substance of the other, but strangely, they both wanted to know more.
A truce was implied in the quiet moments following Reid's last declaration. Luke, more serious than before, asked, "So, you're a doctor. You must have worked pretty hard for that. What do you want in life?"
Reid thought the question was a little abrupt, but he didn't mind it. He knew the answer to this question and was never afraid to share it. "My own neurosurgery center, and I'm only one significant donation away."
"Really?"
"Yes, my chief of staff and I are meeting the investor here this weekend. In a year, I should have my center built and running." Reid spoke with open pride about his career.
Luke was quietly intrigued. "So, you've achieved almost everything you've dreamed of. Are you happy?"
"Satisfied, I think, is the right word. What about you?" Reid couldn't believe he was having such a substantial conversation with a near stranger. He felt so comfortable with Luke, however, that it seemed right. If he'd told his best friend since childhood, Nathan, that he spent his first night at the party sitting on a bench talking about whether he was happy, Nathan would have laughed. Reid didn't even talk about things like this with his friend, and he wasn't sure why it was different with Luke.
"Not necessarily happy, but I have hope." The smile in Luke's voice as he spoke was evident.
Reid smirked at the reference to Gatsby having hope, and then the men fell into a companionable silence, each catching the occasional sound of music floating in on the wind. They heard some laughter from a couple passing by, the sound an abrupt intrusion into the halcyon sanctuary surrounding them.
"I really should go. I need to check on a friend." Luke stood up, but lingered, however, taking a few steps toward the Sound, hesitant to leave the overwhelming sense of harmony he felt in this garden with Reid. He tipped his chin toward the sky and said, "This is my favorite time-when it's newly night and there's still some warmth left from the sun."
Reid cocked an eyebrow and said, "Really, a chipper thing like you? I'd think you like the sunrise."
Not put off by Reid's question, Luke replied, "Nope, I like the early nighttime, when the dark somehow seems fresher. When I feel like anything can happen." He paused and continued with a smile in his voice, "I've always loved the stars. I feel like I can talk to them. My grandma used to say they were guardian angels and lost relatives shining down upon me." He glanced at Reid to see if he was listening.
There were several seconds of silence, but then Reid snorted. "Wow, I bet you've never had sex outdoors."
Luke laughed as his tension eased, and Reid felt a small squeeze around his heart at the sound. Luke's laughter was more than contagious--it was uplifting, even to a cynic like Reid.
"Shut up," the younger man teased, but finished softly, "I thought it was nice."
Reid sobered. "It is. I shouldn't have made fun of it."
Luke took in the kindness in Reid's tone, but didn't remark upon it. "Another charming aspect of your default mode?"
"I'm afraid so," Reid said bluntly.
Luke nodded. "I should probably go. I really do need to check on a friend." He started to walk toward the path when he turned back and asked, "Dance with me later?"
"Let me think…When genetically mutated monkeys sprout wings," Reid announced in reply.
Luke just smiled, his teeth again flashing against the night. "Ah, yes. I think I heard you saying something about flocks of sheep making fools of themselves earlier." He paused for dramatic effect, before joking, "You do seem to have a thing for wildlife."
Now Reid stood up and crossed his arms. "Accusing me of bestiality isn't about to get me into my dancing shoes."
"So, you have some? I guess I'll have to do better then." Luke's voice floated like a sensual promise across the air, but Reid stayed his ground.
"Not going to happen," Reid replied in a sing-song voice.
"Fine. Maybe I should dress like a cow." Luke seemed to ponder the point as if he was giving it serious consideration.
"I don't like you," proclaimed Reid. Yeah, I do, he silently chided.
Luke shook his head and said, "Yeah, you do. I like you, too." Before Reid could respond to either of those astute assertions, Luke started to back away. He asked, "You're okay for me to leave?"
Nodding, Reid replied, "I'm fine now."
"I'll make sure Tom is gone when I go back. He shouldn't be here."
Reid responded, "I'll be okay; I don't think he'll bother me again." He didn't plan on lingering outside too long, however.
Luke countered, "He might hassle some other guests, so I'll mention it to security."
Reid raised an eyebrow, getting the sense that Luke wasn't going to back down. "Can I stop you?"
"Nope. Are you sure you're okay for me to leave?"
Sighing, Reid answered, "Yes, I'm fine. I've managed to survive a whole 30 years without you." Reid wasn't used to anyone worrying over him, so he was much more flattered than his words revealed. Truth be told, he found Luke's misgivings endearing.
Reid caught another hint of a smile in the darkness before Luke said, "Default mode, again, huh? I guess I'll see you around, Dr. Oliver." He turned and started to walk away.
"Thank you again, Luke," the doctor replied in a deep seductive voice, betraying the interest he had been trying to hide all night. If he hadn't been watching carefully, he would have missed Luke stiffen before continuing on the path back to the mansion.
Reid draped one arm across the cold top of the bench and ran his free hand through his auburn curls. Who was he kidding pretending to worry about why Luke got up from his seat? Easily more curious than the young man's retreat was the fact that Reid missed his presence beside him. That reaction was more interesting and concerning than the innocent act of standing up.
"What kind of doctor are you?" Luke asked after a moment. His voice, though, didn't reveal any irritation, for which Reid was relieved.
"Neurosurgeon. What do you do?" Luke seemed to take a step farther into the darkness. So far, all the doctor had been able to make out was broad shoulders, a crisp white shirt under a tuxedo collar, and a hint of high cheekbones. Usually he could care less about someone's appearance, but he was admittedly interested in what his rescuer looked like.
"My family is in shipping and transportation."
"Ah," Reid said, "So you must be one of the many walking checkbooks parading around here." He was disappointed in the idea that Luke had likely inherited his money--usually such people were uninteresting to Reid. The doctor felt like having to earn everything that he had obtained in life had given him character. Those who had never worked for anything generally had nothing to say.
"Um, something like that." Luke sounded uncomfortable, which confused Reid. The doctor guessed that the younger man wasn't entirely at ease with having inherited a fortune.
Luke changed the topic, which confirmed Reid's opinion that he'd been embarrassed. "So, what person are you supposed to be this weekend?"
Every guest at the party had been given another identity, the name of either a famous character or historical person from the 1920s, for the weekend when they accepted their invitation. Many of the guests wholeheartedly embraced the concept and dressed in character. Reid had seen Charlie Chaplin, Teddy Roosevelt, and Greta Garbo wandering around the polished mansion this evening. Reid thought dressing up in costumes was juvenile and did not entertain the idea of donning a costume. "Sigmund Freud," he replied, rolling his eyes.
Luke quoted, "'We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love, never so forlornly unhappy as when we have lost our love object or its love.'"
Reid snorted. "That's the quote you remember from Freud? All that good stuff about sex, and you pick that one?" To be honest though, he was impressed that the other man knew anything about Freud. Most of the people at the party seemed to be either self-made businessmen who could only talk about making money or spoiled rich kids who thought college was a great place to party. He doubted anyone else inside could quote a noted psychologist. It seemed there was more to Luke than just having been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. Luke was exceptional, and Reid was intrigued.
Luke shrugged and tamped down a laugh. "It's the one that speaks to me-I can't help it. Besides, I like Jung better than Freud."
"It's all a bunch of mumbo jumbo if you ask me. All those dusty psychoanalytic concepts can now be explained by specific functions of the brain. I'd just as soon go to a fortune teller with a glowing glass ball than have one of those guys try to practice their voodoo on me."
"You're kind of blunt, aren't you?" Luke didn't seem to object to Reid's brusqueness, though.
The doctor turned his palms face up and shrugged. "I can't think of any better way to be." He wondered if he had inadvertently insulted Luke and tried to think of a safe topic that wouldn't end in the same result. The guy had just saved him from Tom; Reid owed it to him to at least try to be nice. "So, what person are you supposed to be?" he finally settled on asking.
"Jay Gatsby."
Reid lifted his brows and let out a long whistle. "You must have quite the deep pockets to have snagged that name. Isn't there a Gatsby picnic tomorrow or something?
"Something like that," Luke demurred, his reply the same as before when Reid had brought up money.
"'It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment,'" Reid quoted from memory.
Luke smiled broadly, his teeth flashing in the darkness. "You've read the book!" the young man exclaimed with delight.
"I did go to school. Isn't it on every high school reading list?"
Shaking his head, Luke replied, "Not many people remember it well enough to quote it."
Reid shrugged. "I can't help it. I have a photographic memory." He waited for the usual array of questions about his cognitive abilities, but was again surprised by the other man.
"That's great, but you bothered to quote it to me, so you must like it." He sat back down next to Reid, but still remained out of the light's reach.
"Caught, I suppose," Reid drawled.
"I always preferred 'Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope,'" Luke said in a lofty voice, the kind one uses when quoting something renowned.
"You're a Pollyanna," Reid spat in disgust. He usually found optimists truly repellent, so he was astonished to find this one so interesting. Normally, if he spoke to someone the way he just did to Luke, the other person would take offense. Somehow, he knew Luke would surprise him again.
"Caught, I suppose," Luke mimicked Reid's earlier reply. The tone matched Reid's perfectly.
Reid smiled in surprise. It wasn't often anyone stayed in a conversation with him this long, much less seem to enjoy being in that conversation. Maybe I should have his head examined. I wish I could see his face, though. If he would just lean a foot to his left, the light would hit him. His hair looks blonde, I think. Oh Christ, Oliver, get a hold of yourself. You sound like a teenage girl wondering if his eyes are blue or green. Next you'll be trying to get your best friend to find out if he likes you.
Mentally shrugging off his wayward thoughts, Reid said, "I always thought Gatsby was a fool. He gained wealth and power just so he could have a woman who wasn't worth it, and then he winds up dead."
"He loved her," Luke said.
"As if that's a good reason to waste your life," Reid derided. "She was a shallow bitter fool."
"Well, you can't choose love," Luke responded quickly to Reid. In fact, both of them had started trading thoughts at an unusually fast pace.
"Wonderful, I'm talking to a romantic optimist. Did you read that from a fortune cookie?" Without realizing it, Reid's arm had casually draped behind Luke. He quickly pulled it back, not wanting the other man to think he was interested. "Think" I'm interested? Really, Reid. Don't you mean "know"?
"There's nothing wrong with being romantic." Luke folded his arms over his chest. The frown was evident in his voice.
Reid scoffed, "There is when you spend your life working toward someone who isn't worth it."
Luke tipped his head to the side and said, "Maybe Gatsby needed a reason to work so hard to build that fortune, something to give him hope."
Reid instantly replied, "He should have chosen a better reason and appreciated the things he had. Look what his 'hope' cost him."
"What would be a better reason?" Luke asked.
"Love of the work itself? Of money?" Reid paused, sucked in his cheeks, and then stated, "Something pragmatic."
"Like a pragmatic love of someone?" Luke inquired.
"Yes."
"Good luck finding such a thing, Dr. Oliver. I've never seen an example of pragmatic love."
Raising his brows in amused contempt, Reid queried, "And you know this from vast experience? How old are you?"
"Twenty-three."
The doctor clapped his long hands together and laughed smugly. "Ha. You've barely seen anything."
Luke leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "And how old are you that you can say that the only thing worth living for must be pragmatic?"
"Thirty. If you have trouble counting, that's seven more years than you." He raised his hands to display seven digits.
Luke was hardly finished, however. "You're a doctor, so you must have been in school for a long while?"
Reid scratched his head a little nervously. He had some idea of where Luke was taking this argument. "Not as long as most. I graduated early, but I finished residency about two years ago."
"You probably didn't have a social life to speak of," Luke deduced.
Affronted, Reid replied, "It wasn't that bad."
Luke laughed. "Well, my guess is that you can't say you've seen much of love yourself to claim it can be pragmatic."
"But I'm a genius, so I can figure it out," Reid boasted. He had to admit that he was enjoying this debate. Every word was coming out in a rush--it was like a lightning chess match between two rivals. Knowledge and strategy were instinctive in their reactions to each other. Their brains were trying to keep ahead of the other's, and the feeling was exhilarating.
Unimpressed by Reid's bravado, Luke said, "Being cerebral doesn't make you an expert in matters of the heart."
"Which is probably why I prefer to avoid them," Reid responded matter-of-factly.
"Ha, I think you just proved my point-you're not an expert," Luke said triumphantly. "Do you concede?"
"Never," the doctor replied with mock severity.
They both stopped, nearly out of breath from their quick debate. The men shared a moment of silence, both rather pleased with the other person and grinning. Each felt like they understood the substance of the other, but strangely, they both wanted to know more.
A truce was implied in the quiet moments following Reid's last declaration. Luke, more serious than before, asked, "So, you're a doctor. You must have worked pretty hard for that. What do you want in life?"
Reid thought the question was a little abrupt, but he didn't mind it. He knew the answer to this question and was never afraid to share it. "My own neurosurgery center, and I'm only one significant donation away."
"Really?"
"Yes, my chief of staff and I are meeting the investor here this weekend. In a year, I should have my center built and running." Reid spoke with open pride about his career.
Luke was quietly intrigued. "So, you've achieved almost everything you've dreamed of. Are you happy?"
"Satisfied, I think, is the right word. What about you?" Reid couldn't believe he was having such a substantial conversation with a near stranger. He felt so comfortable with Luke, however, that it seemed right. If he'd told his best friend since childhood, Nathan, that he spent his first night at the party sitting on a bench talking about whether he was happy, Nathan would have laughed. Reid didn't even talk about things like this with his friend, and he wasn't sure why it was different with Luke.
"Not necessarily happy, but I have hope." The smile in Luke's voice as he spoke was evident.
Reid smirked at the reference to Gatsby having hope, and then the men fell into a companionable silence, each catching the occasional sound of music floating in on the wind. They heard some laughter from a couple passing by, the sound an abrupt intrusion into the halcyon sanctuary surrounding them.
"I really should go. I need to check on a friend." Luke stood up, but lingered, however, taking a few steps toward the Sound, hesitant to leave the overwhelming sense of harmony he felt in this garden with Reid. He tipped his chin toward the sky and said, "This is my favorite time-when it's newly night and there's still some warmth left from the sun."
Reid cocked an eyebrow and said, "Really, a chipper thing like you? I'd think you like the sunrise."
Not put off by Reid's question, Luke replied, "Nope, I like the early nighttime, when the dark somehow seems fresher. When I feel like anything can happen." He paused and continued with a smile in his voice, "I've always loved the stars. I feel like I can talk to them. My grandma used to say they were guardian angels and lost relatives shining down upon me." He glanced at Reid to see if he was listening.
There were several seconds of silence, but then Reid snorted. "Wow, I bet you've never had sex outdoors."
Luke laughed as his tension eased, and Reid felt a small squeeze around his heart at the sound. Luke's laughter was more than contagious--it was uplifting, even to a cynic like Reid.
"Shut up," the younger man teased, but finished softly, "I thought it was nice."
Reid sobered. "It is. I shouldn't have made fun of it."
Luke took in the kindness in Reid's tone, but didn't remark upon it. "Another charming aspect of your default mode?"
"I'm afraid so," Reid said bluntly.
Luke nodded. "I should probably go. I really do need to check on a friend." He started to walk toward the path when he turned back and asked, "Dance with me later?"
"Let me think…When genetically mutated monkeys sprout wings," Reid announced in reply.
Luke just smiled, his teeth again flashing against the night. "Ah, yes. I think I heard you saying something about flocks of sheep making fools of themselves earlier." He paused for dramatic effect, before joking, "You do seem to have a thing for wildlife."
Now Reid stood up and crossed his arms. "Accusing me of bestiality isn't about to get me into my dancing shoes."
"So, you have some? I guess I'll have to do better then." Luke's voice floated like a sensual promise across the air, but Reid stayed his ground.
"Not going to happen," Reid replied in a sing-song voice.
"Fine. Maybe I should dress like a cow." Luke seemed to ponder the point as if he was giving it serious consideration.
"I don't like you," proclaimed Reid. Yeah, I do, he silently chided.
Luke shook his head and said, "Yeah, you do. I like you, too." Before Reid could respond to either of those astute assertions, Luke started to back away. He asked, "You're okay for me to leave?"
Nodding, Reid replied, "I'm fine now."
"I'll make sure Tom is gone when I go back. He shouldn't be here."
Reid responded, "I'll be okay; I don't think he'll bother me again." He didn't plan on lingering outside too long, however.
Luke countered, "He might hassle some other guests, so I'll mention it to security."
Reid raised an eyebrow, getting the sense that Luke wasn't going to back down. "Can I stop you?"
"Nope. Are you sure you're okay for me to leave?"
Sighing, Reid answered, "Yes, I'm fine. I've managed to survive a whole 30 years without you." Reid wasn't used to anyone worrying over him, so he was much more flattered than his words revealed. Truth be told, he found Luke's misgivings endearing.
Reid caught another hint of a smile in the darkness before Luke said, "Default mode, again, huh? I guess I'll see you around, Dr. Oliver." He turned and started to walk away.
"Thank you again, Luke," the doctor replied in a deep seductive voice, betraying the interest he had been trying to hide all night. If he hadn't been watching carefully, he would have missed Luke stiffen before continuing on the path back to the mansion.