At the end of the day, Conrad entered the lounge as well and headed over to her.
"You look like you could use that drink. How did it go with Kim?"
"Guy is a complete jerk, but the advantage is that he knows nothing about medicine so if you can convince him that what you do is in Red Rock Medical's best interest, he can't take that apart. And yes, I'd love a drink."
Generally, he would have gone to their usual hang out spot, but he wanted to be away from the hospital crowd and be alone with her. He wanted to get to know her better and he knew it wouldn't be possible with some of the others hanging around them.
When they entered Smith's Olde Bar on Piedmont Avenue, it wasn't too packed. The place was a bit old fashioned as indicated the name. The wooden bar and its wooden bar stools were in the beginning of the place, with a stage at the end of it. A singer was on stage with her musicians. Julia felt right at home as the country-billy blues music filled the venue.
"This place is great," said Julia as she continued to inventory the place and let herself be taken in by the music.
Conrad was relieved, it wasn't the kind of place that the others liked coming to, more than happy to sing karaoke, but it was a place he liked spending time at occasionally. The fact that she seemed to adhere to his choice was comforting.
He headed over to the bar and she followed. They took place on two of the empty stools. As she looked at the band on stage, he took the liberty of discretely looking at her. He had seen her mostly in scrubs the past weeks and he found her beautiful in her red floral sleeveless maxi dress and white sandals. Her long light brown hair had been put up in a loose braid that ended just below her shoulders. He realized that there was only one word to describe how she looked: stunning!
"What can I get you?" asked the barman as he stopped at their level.
She turned her attention back to the bar and saw Conrad looking at her. "Ladies first," he said smiling.
She smiled back and looked at the barman. "Whatever draft beer you have."
The barman then looked at Conrad.
"The same."
The barman nodded and walked away.
"How are you finding Atlanta?"
"Great! I had come to Atlanta when I was a kid but didn't remember much of it. My family spent more time in South Carolina. The weather is great, and you will never hear me complaining about the heat. I got a nice little house at Childers Place, it's not too far from the hospital and the commute is rather pleasant."
"And Chastain?"
"It's growing on me. The hospital is nice, and the team is great."
"Things were different before Red Rock Medical came in the picture," he said nostalgically.
"Red Rock Medical wasn't what it was set out to be?" she asked knowing full well the answer to the question, but she wanted to hear his point of view.
"Like you said, it has different priorities than doctors and nurses do. It's not the Chastain vision or philosophy."
"Let's face it a hospital lives off billing obscene amounts of money to their patients, it's a business, everything is."
He was about to respond when she said what he was about to say.
"But it should never be at the expense of the patient, the care they receive or their well-being, nor that of the staff."
He nodded as the waiter placed their glasses in front of them.
"Which is something Red Rock Medical has not implemented."
"The real question is, how can Chastain get rid of Red Rock Medical?" she asked wanting to hear what his thoughts were on the matter.
"Unfortunately, there are no loopholes in the contract. Bell thought he was doing the right thing for Chastain who was in a delicate situation at the time. I guess it was prettier on paper. The only way out is to break the contract but if Chastain does, we'll lose tons of money and be obliged to close, which won't be good for the patients or the staff. So, the only thing left to do it sit it out and wait for the storm to pass when the contract ends and doesn't get renewed."
Julia took a sip of her beer. Everything that Conrad had said was true and he sounded like his father. She'd had many conversations with Marshall about the contract and knew that it was solid. But, where Conrad was wrong was that there were always loopholes, you just had to be able to find them, exploit them, and hoped that it worked for the best and in everyone's best interest.
"Where did you grow up?" he asked genuinely interested in her life.
"A few places. In the States it was up north in New Jersey. I also lived in Europe and Asia as a kid and teenager."
"One of your parents was in the military?"
"No. They worked for an international bank and got transferred around."
"I was a Marine medic."
"Really? Wow. I didn't know you served. That must not have always been easy."
"It wasn't but helping the men and women who risked their lives to protect our Nation, made it more than worthwhile."
She laughed lightly.
"What?"
"I don't know, I just can't picture you in the Marines."
"Why not?"
"Well, it's all about discipline and obeying orders. From what I hear you have a tendency of going against the tide."
He rubbed his hair and laughed.
"In the military the orders you generally get make sense and are there to protect you, the others, and the Nation. Sometimes the orders here go against that, and I have a hard time accepting that. In case you hadn't heard, I'm a whistle-blower at Chastain."
She raised an amused brow. "I hadn't heard, but it's good to know. And I, apparently have an attitude issue."
"Maybe we should get anger management training," he said jokingly.
"I think Red Rock Medical should spend their money on training people like Kim and Cain on empathy and the human factor."
They finished their beers while they talked about various things, trying to get away from the hospital and Red Rock Medical subject. The band had finished singing and were taking a break. Conrad looked over at the pool tables, but they were all occupied. The night was still young, and he didn't want it to end just yet.
"You want to go for a walk? There's a park across the street."
"Sure," she answered as she took her purse and took out a five-dollar bill.
He put his hand to stop her and in doing so her hand finished inside his.
"This one is on me," he said. "It was my idea to come for drinks."
She slowly removed her hand and put the bill back in her purse. "Thanks. Next one will be on me then."
As she stood Conrad pulled out a ten and dropped it on the counter and said goodnight to the barman. They stepped outside and crossed the street to be on the same sidewalk as the park entrance. It was a beautiful night. It wasn't too hot or humid, not a cloud in the sky and people were strolling around enjoying each other's company.
"What made you choose trauma as a specialty?" he asked as they walked on the path.
"9/11 did."
9/11 had changed a lot of things for a lot of people whether in good or bad. He then remembered that she had lived up North.
"You were living in New Jersey back then?"
She nodded. "I was a pre-med student at NYU at the time of the attacks. I remember hearing and feeling the explosion of the first crash. We were only 2 miles away from the scene. With a few of the professors and students we headed directly over to the World Trade Center to see how we could help. I saw things I thought I would never see in my life; people jumping out of windows, severed limbs on the ground, people burned so badly that you couldn't even make out what was skin or clothes or even if they were a man or woman."
He then remembered that they had treated a burn victim a while back and after finishing with him she had fled to the roof terrace where Al had come to see her. It was obvious that Al had known all of this, and he had been there to comfort her.
"We helped as many people as we could up until the second plane crashed and we evacuated the area temporarily. Helping others allowed me to think about something else than the heart-retching fact that at the end of the day my life would be forever changed."
He stopped and looked at her. He wanted to understand what she was talking about and seeing he was hesitant to push for more information, she continued.
"My mother worked in the North tower. She was on one of the floors that was directly hit by the plane. I had been numerous times up to her office, so I knew there was no doubt that she hadn't made it. I've always hoped that it was quick, and she didn't suffer."
He felt a lump in his throat. He had heard many stories of people who had lost loved ones that day, but he had never known someone who had been hit personally.
"My father was at a business breakfast at Windows of the World, on the 106th floor of the North Tower. I had desperately tried to call him on his cell, but lines were either not going through or were saturated by people trying to reach loved one in the towers."
She paused and swallowed.
"Before the South tower collapsed, my dad managed to get a hold of me. I think he knew it wasn't going to end well. He was a very pragmatic man and he always felt that there was nothing he could do about things he had no control over. It didn't mean he would give up, but he was realistic. He told me to be strong, not cry and shoot for the stars. It's what he always told me in everything I did, was shoot for the stars, the moon, or any star between the two. His last words were only of love and bravery and then the line went dead. Even if it had kept going, I couldn't bear to tell him about mom. Then the South Tower came down and we were carted off toward the ferries to cross over to New Jersey. The rest well, everyone knows what happened after that."
"I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I can't even begin to imagine what you went through."
"It changes you. Some people changed in a negative way, but for me it was my father's last words that led me to where I am today. I keep shooting for the stars, and having lost people I love, allows me to know what it feels like when family members are impatiently waiting in the waiting room for news about their loved one. I'm not afraid or ashamed to say that I've cried with family members when we couldn't save the person that meant the world to them. I'm human and I think it is an asset."
He nodded. "I think it's one of your most amazing qualities. I believe it's what makes you a great doctor and surgeon."
She was moved by what he was telling her.
"A lot of people thought I was crazy going for a specialty in trauma and I could see their point of view, but for me, it's a way to not forget that tragic day and hopefully save people who may not have all the odds in their favor."
"You are truly amazing, you know that?"
She shrugged. "I'm just trying to live the best life I can, one day at a time."
"Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me your story."
"You're easy to talk to," she answered, and it was the truth. She felt she could spend hours talking to him about everything. Her demons, her fears, her dreams, and goals.
They continued walking back toward his car in silence and he drove off toward her house. He pulled up alongside the curb in front of a traditional white stucco house with a welcoming architecture, large windows, and blue front door. From the exterior it was the kind of house he could imagine her living in.
She turned and looked at him. "Thanks again for the drink and the stroll. I had a good time."
"Me too. Hopefully it won't be the last time," he ventured out.
"I'm sure it won't," she replied. "Goodnight Conrad."
"Goodnight Julia," he answered as she opened the passenger door, let herself out, closed it and then headed for the house.
He waited until she was inside before putting the car in gear and heading back home.
Julia had only been inside for a few minutes when there was a knock on the door. When she opened it, Marshall was standing outside. She looked at the street panicked.
"Conrad is gone, and Diego is following him to make sure. We're good," he said.
Julia nodded and let Marshall inside before closing the door.
She headed inside the living room, and he followed her. She opened her bag and pulled out the device and flash drive and handed them over to Marshall.
"I had a look earlier when I was alone in the doctor's lounge. I think we might have found something."
Marshall raised an interested brow.
"One of the files is called C184 and it contains a list of classified documents that I believe is what we are looking for."
"C184? Any idea what it could be?"
She shook her head. "No. I've tried to find a few connections but unfortunately came up empty handed."
Marshall rubbed his chin. "We need to figure out what it means because I have the feeling it could be a major breakthrough for us."
"I agree," said Julia. "There are some other interesting documents that I copied, but it won't be enough."
He nodded. "OK we keep doing what we're doing. I'll have my team of investigators also work on this possible C184 and see if we come up with anything. You're doing great Julia, really."
He put the device and flash drive in his pocket and headed out of the living room to the door.
"Why did you come here? I thought you wanted to keep a low-profile?"
"Irving saw us at the hotel lounge and told Conrad he thought we were in a relationship."
"What?!"
"Don't worry, I told Conrad it wasn't the case."
"He confronted you about it?"
"It's no surprise. Conrad likes you, more than he's openly admitted, to you or anyone else, but considering you went out for drinks, I take it you're not oblivious."
"Wait? How…" she stopped mid-sentence. It was a stupid question. If he knew, either he had followed them or had Diego, do it.
"I'm fully aware of his growing feelings for me," she said dropping her previous sentence and answering his.
He nodded. "I'll keep you posted. Goodnight Julia."
He opened the door.
"Goodnight Marshall."
She closed and locked the door behind him. She headed upstairs once she had turned off all the lights downstairs. She sat on the bed and her eyes landed on a picture frame on her nightstand. It had been the perfect happy family of four. No one could have imagined or foreseen the tragic aftermath 9/11 would have on her life nor the one that had hit her again 2 years ago.