The Fisherman's Niece

Chapter 9

       “Don't look so worried, it's a natural remedy,“ he chuckled. “I'm not into drugs or anything like that.“

       He turned back to signal to the bartender that he wanted to order a drink. She bit her lip and vowed that her insecurities would not get the best of her. When he had his vodka tonic in hand, he led her to a quiet table on the opposite side of the restaurant from the lovestruck couple she'd spotted earlier.

       The privacy was nice at first, but after she was seated she couldn't help making a mental note of all the exits and searching her brain for something interesting to say. Aside from her uncertainties where Dylan was concerned, she hadn't been on a date like this in quite some time and was feeling more anxious by the minute. It didn't help that since they'd sat down he hadn't done much more than sip his drink and stare at her with a silly grin on his face. She could feel the sweat starting to gather on her forehead and had to take a couple deep breaths before the need to panic started to subside.

       "You really have had a rough time lately, haven't you?" He leaned forward and put his hand lightly on hers.

       Lines of concern were etched around his mouth, but when she lifted her eyes to look straight into his, there was an almost predatory gleam there that caused her to pull away and tuck her hands in her lap. Now that she was faced with him, her dreams from the previous night were pressing in on her again. She could feel his hands on her body, the way he'd felt inside her, his dismissal of her pleas for him to stop, his eyes.

       She forced herself to look at him. She had to be sure. They were still blue, and slightly gray, like the sky on a stormy day. He was regarding her curiously, as though she was a mental patient that he needed to treat with the utmost care. That, more than anything, brought her to her senses and forced her to try and cope. She was not her mother. She could keep the line between reality and delusional fancy crystal clear. She could have dinner with a man who made her a bit weak in the knees.

       A man who may have raped me. The thought popped into her head without warning. It must have shown on her face because the smile that he'd been trying to maintain fell and he immediately stood up and came to her side.

       "Are you alright? You just went as white as a sheet."

       "I'm okay, really. I guess I haven't had much of anything to eat today." She managed to twitch the corners of her mouth a little.

       "Well then, let's get some menus, okay?" He turned and motioned to a lone waiter who had been leaning against the wall.

       He'd been so quiet she hadn't even noticed him before. As he approached, she could tell he wasn't very old, probably a teenager, maybe even the innkeeper's son. After tossing the menus on the table and babbling a string of words that might have been describing the specials, he retreated to his post once more. She saw him pull a small device, probably a cellphone, from his pocket and watched for a second as his eyes glazed over.

       "We'll probably have to throw something at him when we're ready to order. I've been here for about fifteen minutes and that's the most active I've seen him." Dylan was looking at her again.

       She shook herself and pulled her focus back to his expectant gaze. What had he said? Had it been a question?

       "I-I'm really sorry, was I late? I didn't mean to keep you waiting,"

       "No need to apologize, I was early." He smiled sheepishly. "Nervous I guess."

       She looked at him in shock.