The Lives Between Us by Theresa Rizzo Page B

a heart transplant but died before they could find one.”
    “How old was she?”
    “Nine. She was only nine years old.”
    Mark hugged Skye close. Her head fit comfortably under his chin.
    “She was too weak to endure the procedure to collect her own stem cells, so the plan was to seed her heart with placental cord blood stem cells, but we couldn’t find a match in time. And embryonic stem cells weren’t even an option. Research companies said that they didn’t have the resources to expand their stem cell programs as much as they’d like because politicians like Hastings put so many regulations on the federal assistance.”
    “Hence the hatred of Hastings.”
    Skye inclined her head. Of course that’s why she hated Hastings. “If he’d fought to fund stem cell research as hard as he fought against it, Niki’d be alive today.”
    “Breakthroughs like that take years. It doesn’t sound like Niki had years.”
    “She didn’t even have that chance.” Skye pulled away and scowled at Mark. “Why are you sticking up for him?”
    “I’m not.” Mark raised his hands in a defensive position. “Hey, I’m all for research; that’s half of what we do at Aviva. But it’s not reasonable to blame one guy for your niece’s death.”
    “Are you saying I’m unreasonable?” Skye’s eyes narrowed. Her recent meltdown had been unreasonable, but her attitude toward Hastings wasn’t.
    Mark watched Skye as if expecting her to hit him. “No, ma’am.”
    “You implied it.”
    “Have you ever met Senator Hastings? Ever talked to him face-to-face?”
    “No.” Not face to face—just across a crowded airport lobby.
    “Maybe you should. Maybe you’d find he’s not the enemy. Or maybe you could change his mind—after all, he’s not callous or stupid. Besides, you’re the first person I’ve met that doesn’t think he’s great.”
    He’s my enemy .
    Mark took Skye’s hand. Turning it over, palm side up, he took off her mitten and traced her lifeline. “Will hating Hastings bring your niece back?”
    Mark’s light touch across her bare palm felt intimate, as if he’d stripped her defenses along with her glove.
    “No.” The whispered admission hurt.
    “Do you enjoy hating him?”
    Interesting question. Not did she hate him—that was a given—but did hating Hastings give her pleasure? Hmm. Skye shrugged. “Maybe. Sometimes.”
    “Hating takes a lot of energy.” Mark continued to caress her palm lightly with his thumb. “Energy you could be directing my way. Why don’t you honor your niece by finding a way to make something good come of her death?”
    Make something good come of Niki’s death? How?
    A loud, long buzzer signaled the end of the game. Deafening cheering and whistles erupted from the girls. Mark released Skye’s hand and jostled her shoulder. “Okay?”
    Skye nodded.
    Mark drew her mitten back on and they lined up behind the rambunctious high school girls. Hmmm. She very much doubted that anyone—let alone Skye, herself—could convince Hastings to reverse his position, but the old adage to keep your enemies close came to mind.
    She moved through the open door and looked at Mark. “Maybe you’re right about the Senator, but I’m probably not his favorite person.” She told him about her months of articles that hardly put the Senator in the best light. In fact, they’d earned her a reprimand from Karen.
    Mark held the heavy steel and glass door open for her. “Look on the bright side; he didn’t take out a restraining order against you.”
    “Yeah, but he can’t possibly like me, either.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I bet you could be quite charming if you put your mind to it.” They moved to the side to allow streaming parents and students to pass.
    “Ya think so?” Pulling off a mitten, Skye took his hand and threaded her fingers through his. She held his gaze and stepped closer. Skye tilted her head and lowered her voice to a seductive purr. “You think I can be