“Good morning,” Bridget said, glaring at him before gracing us with a smile. “Sorry he’s being so rude for absolutely no reason. We’re happy to answer any questions you have.”
“Thank you both. He is having pain again. We want to know if we can expect the results to last longer. Dr. Davis said they could be permanent,” Gabriel said. He sent me a mixture of amusement and disapproval in our bond.
To his credit, Dr. Manalo considered the question seriously.Nathan,I remembered. “In theory, the cells should work on rebuilding and repairing your cartilage tissue. But that process can take time. One way traditional stem cell therapy works is by encouraging existing cells to send out signals for regeneration. That could have been why you initially experienced reduced pain. But if the cells aren’t integrating properly, then results may only be temporary.”
“Is the pain at the same level as before?” Bridget broke in.
“No. It’s still better than it was,” I replied.
“It may just require more material to repair the damage to the cartilage,” she said. Her eyes had gone distant as she considered the idea. “I wonder if any of the other subjects have seen these kinds of temporary improvements.”
“You don’t know that?” I asked.
“We have access to the data, but it’s really not our goal to track these kinds of incremental outcomes,” Nathan responded, a little defensively. “We will analyze things at the end of the study for overall results.”
“And in the meantime? You do not care about how the patients are doing?” Gabriel asked, his voice just as dangerously polite.
“No! Wecare. But we don’t normally get to speak with subjects like this,” Bridget said.
Gabriel nodded, satisfied.
Nathan cleared his throat. “If that’s all?”
“We’ll let you get back to work,” I said, hopping up to shake his hand. My knee throbbed as I stood. “Thanks again for your time.”
They turned to leave. Bridget gave Gabriel a small wave and met my eyes briefly.
“Wait, Bridget, could you stay? For a minute?” I asked.
Nathan halted in the doorway. His expression wasn’t polite anymore. It was one of outright hatred.
“Oh. Um. Why? I mean… yes.” Bridget’s cheeks flamed. She saw Nathan’s expression and her own hardened. “I’ll see you back in the lab,” she said pointedly.
Nathan hesitated and met my eyes. I gave him my best, most annoying smile and he swept out without another word.
“What a brute,” Gabriel said. He stood and held his hands out to Bridget. “Now that he is gone, can we say hello properly?”
Bridget was twisting her hands together, but she pulled them apart to slide into Gabriel’s outstretched hands. “He means well. I think.”
I held my tongue. I didn’t need to insult the competition in front of her.
“You look as ravishing as always,” Gabriel said. He kissed Bridget once on each cheek, leaving her adorably flustered.
“Thank you,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. She removed her hands from his grasp and tugged on the lapels of her jacket, like she was adjusting her armor. As if a lab coat could keep me from noticing how gorgeous she was. “What did you need?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“We wanted to ask you on a date,” I said. It was always best to be direct. That was the surest path to victory.
Bridget’s eyes grew wider. “Awhat?”
“A date,” I said again, enunciating clearly through my smile.
She looked between both of us, then blurted “Why? Aren’t you gay?”
I laughed, surprised.
“Only me, carrissima,” Gabriel said gently. “This one… he is a reformed puttaniere. Man-whore.”
