Gage and Sadie

Chapter 5: Sadie

When my shift ended, I made it downstairs to the doors where I said I'd meet Gage...twenty-three minutes late. I couldn't help being delayed. (Lie.) I had patients who didn't observe the clock. (True, but not an issue today.) Was I hoping he'd gotten mad about the wait and had taken off without me? 

Absolutely yes.

Was I that lucky? 

Absolutely not.

He was waiting under the portico beside the town car. He didn't even look irritated -- dammit -- and he merely opened the door for me to get in, greeting me softly, his deep voice somewhere between a rumble and a purr. I got in, sliding across the seat, biting my tongue so I didn't accidentally remember my manners and thank him for holding the door. He slid onto the seat next to me and closed the door. 

"Buckle up," he ordered me, and once I had my seat belt on, the driver took off smoothly.

I looked out of my window, not saying anything, but feeling his  gaze on me. Look all you want, asshole. It still won't make me look at you.

"How was your day?" he asked when the silence finally became too much for him.

Let's see, I was thinking about why you suddenly showed up. I was thinking about why on earth you wanted to have dinner with me. I was dreading having to sit across from you and share a meal and conversation. So, basically, I allowed you to ruin my day.

I said nothing but continued watching the scenery speed by. He sighed heavily.

"Can you please act like an adult so we can have a civil conversation?"

No! You have cooties! So there!

He tried again. "Sadie, we really need to talk."

No, we really don't. I was living my life just fine without you.

"Look at me," he commanded, and he made the mistake of touching my leg to gain my obedience. I whacked his hand away and turned my glare on him. 

"Don't touch me!" I spat at him. "You have no right!"

Then, realizing I was looking at him and he had achieved his objective, I turned my gaze back to my window.

"I have every right. I'm your husband." I could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he reminded me of something he knew I refused to acknowledge.

Knowing he was saying that to get a reaction from me, I refused to give him the satisfaction of rising to his bait.

"I'll allow your tantrum until we get to the restaurant, but then we're going to have a civilized conversation while we enjoy a meal together." That was a tone he'd never used with me when he'd been trying to get me to the altar, and it was a good thing he hadn't -- I would have run in the opposite direction.

Smirking to myself, I could guarantee the conversation would be anything but civil, and I was going to make it my personal mission to ensure he would not be enjoying his meal. I wondered if I had enough cash on me to bribe the wait staff to spit in everything they brought out to him.

When we pulled up to the restaurant -- a very elite steak house where the food was outrageously expensive and there was a waiting list four months long for reservations -- I wondered how Gage thought we'd get a table. Secretly, I was looking forward to him being turned away. That would make me happy on several levels, not the least of which was I was still wearing my scrubs and this was not a scrubs kind of place.

I should have known. We walked in, me lugging my blue backpack and feeling all sorts of uncomfortable, and Gage striding in confidently. The maître d beamed at him and welcomed us.