Derian regarded her so seriously, for so
long, Emily blushed. She wished she could read Derian’s mind at that moment and
was happy Derian couldn’t read hers, especially since she’d suddenly started
thinking about the kiss. Derian couldn’t imagine she meant that kind of help,
could she?
The elevator doors opened onto the bustling
lobby and saved her from worrying about how Derian might have interpreted her
offer. Once outside, in the sunlight, away from the scent of antiseptic,
disease, and death, they strode toward Central Park, dodging through the crowds
while managing to stay close together. When the throngs got too heavy and
threatened to separate them, Derian curled Emily’s hand through the crook of
her arm as naturally as if they’d walked together a hundred times.
When they passed a street vendor roasting
nuts, Derian slowed. “You know, I think I probably need to put something in my
stomach. Cashews?”
“I confess,” Emily said, “I’m a little bit
addicted to the honey-roasted ones.”
Derian grinned. “Done.”
She purchased two bags, handed one to Emily,
and they walked on.
“When my mother died,” Derian said after a
few moments of silence, “I was lucky. I had Henrietta to help me make sense of
it all.”
“I envy you that,” Emily said softly.
“Neither of my parents had siblings, so our family was a pretty small unit. My
father was often away on business, or when he wasn’t, he was preoccupied with
it. He loved us, I know that, but he wasn’t always present for us. My mother
and my sister were my world.”
“Then we’re even—I envy you that.” Derian
shrugged. “Of my parents, I was closest to my mother. I loved both of my
parents as children do, looking to them for support and protection and praise.”
She laughed, with no humor in her voice. “Although there was precious little in
the praise department.”
“Parents sometimes have an odd way of showing
their affection,” Emily ventured. “And some just don’t see their children, or
see the worth of them. There’s certainly no excuse for holding something
against you that wasn’t your fault.”
Derian cut her a glance, a wry smile
softening the tight line of her jaw. “You’re very kind and very perceptive, and
I appreciate you taking my side. I suppose the fault lies on both sides—I
wasn’t a particularly appreciative child, at least not of the things that my
parents could provide.” She lifted a shoulder. “Security, and good schools, and
not wanting for any of the physical things. I realize I’m very lucky, and it’s
totally undeserved. I was born into safety and wealth.” She laughed again and
shook her head. “And complaining about my childhood now makes me sound like
something of an ass.”