Chapter Four #2
Except David is fine. His eager puppy eyes watch Lottie intently, and I know immediately this is our first and only date. We haven’t even ordered yet.
Alfie sips his drink, biting down on an ice cube as he places the glass back on the table.
He’s staring at me until a loud thump sounds from under his table and I see him flinch, gasping before his furious eyes flick back to Lottie.
He straightens his shoulders after that, and I wonder what’s going through his mind right now.
“Not that you’re not beautiful, Maya. Of course you’re stunning, but I mean I’d be remiss to point out that Lottie—"
“Her name is Mia,” Alfie hisses.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought you said your name was Lottie.
” David chuckles nervously as he reaches across the table to pat Lottie’s hand.
I am beyond mortified. Am I having a nightmare?
I run my tongue along my teeth, yep all still there.
That would just about top off the evening if my teeth were falling out and I woke up in a cold sweat.
“Not Lottie. Mia. Your date's name is Mia.”
He has the decency to look embarrassed this time. The electric sludge strikes again.
“Oops, first-date nerves.”
“Wait, this is a first date?” Lottie turns to me, and I shrug. Could this night get any more embarrassing? “Alfie thought—"
Another thump but this time, Lottie winces, gripping the edge of the table and glaring at Alfie. What is going on with these two?
“Ouch, umm, knee spasm,” she murmurs, reaching down too far to be massaging her knee. It looked like she was rubbing her shin.
I eye Alfie curiously; for some reason, he seems to have perked up in the last thirty seconds.
“Have you all decided to team up?” Our server laughs.
“No,” I say as Alfie and David sternly say, “Yes.”
“Oh, boy,” I hear Lottie mutter.
After taking down our orders and bringing David and me our drinks, Lottie turns to me, effectively ignoring Alfie and David.
“Alfie told me all about you this afternoon. He said you’re a few months away from getting your doctorate?”
I flush, and my eyes snap to Alfie, who ignores me. “Yes, I’ll be qualified in around three months.”
“I’m surprised you’re not on placement. Working for Alfie can’t give you the exposure you need, can it?”
“I completed my placements early on in the degree program. I wanted to learn the business side of things in case I got the opportunity to open up my own practice, and luckily I’ve learned everything there is to know working for Alfie. He lets me run the place.”
I sip my red wine, chastising myself for wearing a creamy white sweater tonight.
“That’s genius. Not many grads have those skill sets, so you’ll be ahead of the curve.”
“Mia also volunteers at the crisis line. Her experience there will be invaluable,” Alfie adds.
“Okay, so, you work full time, study, and work at the crisis center? How do you have the time to date?”
I glance at David, who is still giving moon eyes to Lottie.
He nods at me to continue, but I’m sure it’s only because it will please her and not because he’s interested in what I have to say.
I think about my answer. I don’t really date.
I never have the time. But something about the way Alfie shifts uncomfortably in his chair really pisses me off.
In the last week he’s got me caught up in a weird stalking-a-patient situation, he’s turned up at my apartment uninvited, and now he’s turned up to my date uninvited.
The man has clearly lost his damn mind and at the very least his sense of boundaries.
Given that I’m not able to reason with him right now, I’m definitely keen to wind him up.
And if it pisses David off too, then that’s just a bonus.
“Oh, you know. The dating apps really help. Although mostly people are just on there for hookups. It’s more of a casual dating scene for me right now.
Nothing serious.” Alfie’s eyes remain fixed on Lottie but I see the tic in his jaw as if he’s clenching his teeth.
I look to the server and ask for another large Shiraz.
“I think you’ve had enough.” David chuckles, shaking his head to the server.
“I think Mia is very capable of telling us her limits,” Alfie rebuffs sharply.
His eyes heat with an intensity I can’t understand.
He clearly doesn't like David but it seems like more than that. I don’t want some random guy I just met telling me what I can and can’t do either, but to Alfie, this looks almost personal.
“I’ll take the wine,” I say to the server, not letting my eyes leave Alfie’s.
His eyes shine with victory, and the right side of his mouth tilts upward slightly.
“So, Lottie—" David starts.
“Mia,” she quickly interrupts, “what are your plans after you earn your doctorate? Do you have a job lined up?”
“Not yet. I’ve been putting some feelers out there to see what might become available, but I also don’t want to jinx it.”
“You’re going to be Dr. Mia Sinclair very soon, I can feel it. And then it’ll be easier for you.”
I hadn’t heard that before. Most people always say the first few years after graduation are the hardest. The need to prove yourself. To prove that you’ve earned your spot among the few people who get to call themselves a doctor of something.
Lottie must sense my confusion because her sing-song laugh rings out before she goes on to explain, “I just meant you won’t have to deal with this grump all day long, and you won’t be stretched too thin across lots of things. You’ll be able to just focus on your one job.”
Alfie shifts again, his eyes rolling at her grumpy comment.
They must know each other quite well. Maybe they’ve been dating for a while, but given that I pretty much run Dr. Adams’s work life, I’d be surprised to learn I haven’t noticed he has a girlfriend.
But he is a very private person, and Lottie is somewhat of a public figure.
Alfie is too, given that he has a daytime TV slot.
I mean, even our run-in with Vincent made the news.
My blood whooshes in my ears as I remember the ‘girlfriend’ remark.
Is Lottie trying to work out what I am to Alfie?
I certainly would be if I were his girlfriend, and the papers were saying he was dating somebody else.
I go to respond, but David beats me to it. “How long have you two been dating then?” His fingers wiggle between Lottie and Alfie.
She looks at Alfie, who has an unreadable expression. She sighs audibly. “We’re not dating. We’re old friends, aren’t we, Alfie?”
His jaw tics as he leans back in his chair. He doesn’t give a shit about David’s question. But why would he let us believe it was a date? Unless he didn’t want David to think she was single? Maybe he was wanting it to be a date.
“So you’re single then?” David says, cocking his head.
The server brings out our meals, and Lottie takes the opportunity to give me a small grimace.
“I’m focused on my work right now. So I’m not dating,” she offers politely.
“But that could change if you met the right person, right?”
Lord almighty, does this guy not know how to take a hint? Alfie looks ready to stab him with his steak knife.
“I haven’t met the right person, so that question is irrelevant.”
“Maybe you have and you just don't know it yet.” He winks and my stomach rolls painfully.
I look down to my spaghetti with chilli prawns, a rich tomato sauce, dusted with feta cheese. What a waste.
Lottie clucks her tongue as Alfie excuses himself from the table, holding his phone to his ear.
That’s right. Save yourself, you asshole.
I sit quietly, pushing my spaghetti around my plate as David relentlessly quizzes Lottie about her workout routine.
Honestly, you know the type of runner I’m talking about.
The ones who make it their entire personality.
They need everyone to know how life-changing strapping on a pair of sneakers is.
“Your box, miss.” The server hands me a carryout box, and I look up confused.
Alfie emerges, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He squeezes Lottie’s shoulder and doesn’t bother sitting down.
“Lottie, I’m so sorry, we have a patient emergency.” He turns to me. “Mia, I will need your assistance. One of our patients has had another episode, one where your presence always helps.”
I frown for a moment before realizing he’s referring to Mrs Montague.
I’ve always assumed it annoyed Alfie that Mrs. Montague required me to be present during their sessions.
Not annoyed because I’m a woman. But because I’m underqualified.
Really she’s there to see him, she just doesn’t like being alone with men.
“Oh, really?” I perk up a little at the thought of not having to deal with this date a second longer. A kernel of guilt sits in my stomach. I do hope Mrs. Montague is okay.
“Yes, I’m so sorry. David, you’ll have to forgive me for ending your night early. Lottie, I’ll drop you home,” Alfie says, his voice laced with regret.
David takes his chance. “Oh, I can do that. If these two need to leave, we could stay.”
“No thank you,” she responds immediately. “Alfie is my ride home.”
“I can drive you home. Well, I’d have to call my mom back. She dropped me off as I don’t have a car right now.”
My eyes bug out as I swing my head toward him, hearing Alfie snort behind me. Is there anything more humiliating than your boss watching the worst date in history?
“No thank you. I—"
“Why not?” he says, his tone accusatory.
“Why not what?”
“Why don't you want me to drive you home?”
“I just met you. Why would I want a stranger to know where I live?” she huffs, clearly getting agitated.
Alfie gently pulls her by the elbow, and I say goodbye to David.
“Clearly this isn’t going to work out,” I say, grabbing my to-go box. I’m going to end the night stuffing my face with it when I get home.
He shoots his shot one final time. “Could you give her my number?”
I roll my eyes. Did this have to happen in front of Alfie? I was trying to move on from my disastrous love life, but all it got me was some new embarrassing moments to add to the movie montage of my life. “Goodbye, David.”
“Is that a yes?” he calls out as I walk away.
Despite Alfie insisting on driving her, Lottie is already in a cab.
Alfie leans through the open window, kissing her cheek before muttering so low I can’t hear a word.
She frowns, shaking her head before facing me and giving me a warm smile and a wave.
Alfie then steps back, tapping the back of the cab a couple of times to indicate it is okay to pull away.
I wrap my arms around my middle. Spring is just around the corner but the bite of winter is still nipping at my skin; I hadn’t worn enough warm clothes.
Alfie steels himself for a moment, watching the cab drive away before turning to me.
Goddamn it, just the height of him sets me off.
His broad frame. It’s completely the opposite of what I imagine a professional psychologist to look like.
I imagine soft, smooth hands, slim physiques.
But Alfie is all gravel and rough. He stalks toward me with purpose, like he’s chosen me as his next target.
His shoulders fill out his polo shirt, and it tightens a little too much across his chest, as if he’s put on extra muscle since he bought it.
Despite that, it suits him. To have something a little off.
It almost makes him more approachable. I laugh for a moment because I’m not approaching him at all.
He’s eating up the distance between us with strong, purposeful strides, and I’m cowering, holding myself to protect against the cold.
His jacket hangs off his arm, his slacks, a relaxed fit, his cream knitted button-down polo is so unlike anything I’ve seen him wear before.
It looks like it should be on some Italian beachgoer.
The belt, the fricking biceps bulging out with the corded forearms practically begging to be licked.
He’ll need to put those bad boys away before we check on Mrs. Montague or she may faint from the scandal.
“So are we going to the office?”
“No. I’m going to drive you home. It turns out Mrs. Montague won’t be needing us after all.” His voice is clipped.
I stare at him for a moment, and a flash of guilt rips over his face as he breaks eye contact.
“She didn’t really call, did she?”
He pauses for a second. “No.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Why are you here?”
“I was having dinner with Lottie.”
“Did you know I was going to be here?”
“If I did, why on earth would I go to the same place for a date as my receptionist?” he snaps. I bristle at the receptionist remark as I do a lot more than that, and he knows it.
“Lottie said you weren’t on a date.”
“She’s a private person.”
“Bullshit. She knew about me.”
“I had to explain about the headlines. That’s all.”
“And that required her knowing about my PhD and looking for a new job?”
“She’s infuriatingly nosy, like you. Now can we please get in my car? You’re shivering.”
“Why do you care if I’m shivering? I’ll just get an Uber.”
“No, it’s nighttime and dangerous.”
“You literally just put your date in a cab, you idiot. I can manage. I’m a big girl who can make her own way home.”
He huffs, clearly annoyed that I’ve outlogicked him yet again.
God, he’s infuriating. His annoying protectiveness comes across as overbearing, especially when he’s so goddamn irritated by it all.
Just leave me be. I’ve been on my own in the city since I was eighteen and moved here from Texas.
I’ve got it covered. I’m well equipped to handle my shit, and I don’t need him poking his nose where it’s not wanted.
“You need to stop insulting me. The names. They’ve got to stop.”
“Well, stop acting like my father, and I won’t need to rebel against you, Da—”
“Don’t say it,” he warns, his eyes flaring with heat.
A maniacal grin breaks out across my face. “I won’t say it if you explain to me why you crashed my date.”
“I’m not going to indulge this line of questioning.”
“Of course you’re not,” I huff. “Well given you’ve completed your extracurricular activities for the evening, I’m going to see if there’s anyone else who is less of a dickhead than you or David.
See you tomorrow.” I turn on my heel and stomp down the street, letting my hips sway a little more than usual, hoping it will piss him off.