Hakan shook his head. “While this restaurant produces some of the best French cuisine in the States, I’ve asked them to prepare a different menu for us this evening. You see, I’ve been a bit homesick lately. And given that you’ve probably never been to the Middle East, I was thinking we could dine on some of the things I’m missing. It’s all enormously good,” he said, coaxing. “I promise you’ll like it.”
Rosie couldn’t imagine that he would ever lead her wrong. “Of course,” she grinned, nodding. “I’m open to everything today.”
“Good,” Hakan said. Their eyes connected over their wine glasses, and the night hummed around them. It seemed like something big was about to happen. “We’ll start with the hummus platter.”
Rosie told herself to stop fidgeting with he
r hair. She pressed her thighs down over her hands and blinked up at him, feeling her stomach rumbling. She waited, eager for him to take over the conversation. Somehow, despite the fact that he’d already revealed true compassion, she still expected him to be a stereotypical, egotistical rich man.
But then, Hakan asked her a question. “So, how were things on the obstetrics floor today?”
She was shocked to find that he looked eager to know.
Rosie’s eyebrows pulled high on her forehead. “Well, today was my day off.”
“A much-needed break, I can imagine.”
She nodded, her muscles relaxing. “Lately, it’s been crazy. It seems like my co-nurses call in sick far more frequently in the summer, and I’ve been working a great deal more. I need the money for rent, of course, so I usually accept extra shifts.” She looked down, conscious that Hakan probably didn’t care about this.
“But it must wear you out,” Hakan said softly.
“More than I can say. Especially since my friend Amy went down to part time, I’ve been questioning what I’m doing there. Like, she’s gone, so there’s a gap for me to think. Which is dangerous, you know? I mean, I loved getting into nursing when I was a student. I thought that this was the only thing I wanted to do. I wasn’t interested in art or music or anything like that. Beyond anything, I liked taking care of people. And I’ve never been squeamish, either. When I fell on the ground as a kid, like off my bike or something, I remember looking at the blood pouring from the skin and not being afraid. I wondered how it happened, how the scab formed, everything.”
“Were you one of those kids who yanked off their scabs to see what was below?” Hakan asked.
Rosie laughed. “Of course I was. I was so weird.” She shook her head.
“I don’t think it’s weird. I think, so often, who we are as children are who we grow up to be. We fight to be something else for a while, something that could please our parents, our friends or our lovers.” He paused, clearing his throat. “But in the end, we’re just kids who yank off scabs. And we become nurses.”
It was beautiful the way he said it, Rosie thought, like he actually saw who she was, and accepted it.
As the pause grew between them, the waiter placed the hummus plate on the table, and they turned their attention to the food. Rosie ate enthusiastically, without shame, knowing that Hakan just wanted her to appreciate the food that had come from his youth.
“This is delicious,” she murmured, taking another bite, allowing the unusual texture to course over her tongue. “I can’t believe I had to grow up on hot dogs.”
Hakan laughed appreciatively. “I really miss this stuff. You can get it everywhere, of course, but it doesn’t always taste like what my mother prepared.”
“Wait, your mom still cooked?” Rosie asked. “Even though your parents were—” She trailed off before reaching the word “billionaires.”
He nodded, taking a long sip of his wine. “She did, but let’s not talk about that. I’m so interested in your work, Rosie. I haven’t spoken to many nurses in my life. It must be amazing knowing that your life has meaning. Every day, you go to work, and you help babies to be born. That’s—that’s absolutely insane.”
Rosie blushed. She’d never heard anyone speak about her job this way.
She didn’t want to talk much more about work, however. She was starting to realize it was the only thing she had going on in her life, that most of her friends were moving to the suburbs, having kids and moving on. Rosie just went to work, came home, watched a movie, and repeated. She couldn’t very well flourish that into a glorious tale.
“It’s a beautiful thing, at least at first,” Rosie affirmed. “But I think you get used to it somehow. Like the miracle of life becomes, well, normal.”
“I can imagine that, I suppose. Everything about my life, even as I work hard and am able to live this way—” He gestured at the tealights, at the dinner, at the city below them. “Everything about it can grow mundane, if I allow it to. I think that’s the necessary trick of life. That you have to stay present for it. Or you might miss something.”
“Or you might hit something,” Rosie murmured. “If you hadn’t been present yesterday, you might have run me over flat.”
Hakan laughed, then: a deep, pleasant laugh that erupted from his stomach. “Good point. Very, very good point.”
Their second course came, then: vine leaves, stuffed with meat and rice and covered in spiced oils. Rosie cut at hers with a knife and fork, watching as Hakan’s strong arm lifted the wine bottle and poured them each another drink.
“But you’d grow tired of being normal, surely,” she started, then. “You’re the head of one of the biggest media agencies in the world, and you’re incredibly powerful. People know your name.”
He shook his head, as if knowing that this topic would eventually come to light. “I’m only happy if people like you know my name. People who actually care about me, who ask me questions. The people who ‘know my name,’ as you say, are only interested in money and power. That’s exceedingly uninteresting, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so,” Rosie said. She felt that they were whispering together at the top of a mountain, after climbing from opposite sides and completely different worlds. Somehow, they could still speak the same language.
Hakan put his fork down, then. “I want to be completely honest with you, Rosie,” he murmured. “I don’t see any reason not to be…”