Psychiatrists

Ch. 10: Dinner.....Date???

    "This isn't my house," I said flatly. We'd pulled up in front of resturant; more specifically, the fancy as hell restaurant Rachel and I had eaten at a few nights ago.
    "Clearly not," Crane retorted. "I may not be an expert in demography, but I know for a fact you don't live in a restaurant."
    "Then why are we here?" I demanded.
    "I thought you might be hungry..." I hated the tone he used; I wasn't a damn child.
    "I could just as easily - maybe even more easily - find food at my house."
    "Yes, you could. But then if the drug had some severe side-affect that only takes action after a certain period of time, there'd be no one to help you and you could be dead by the time anyone thinks to check on you."
    I stared at him in partial disbelief. There was no way he was that concerned for my well-being. Besides, if that was really his reasoning, why not just stay at my house for a bit? It's not like I was married; it wouldn't be a scandal to have a male guest in my house. Why take me to the most expensive restaurant in the city?
    "Why do you care?" The question had left my mouth before I could stop it. Crane turned to me sharply, clearly taken aback. I shifted uncomfortably as he stared at me, mouth slightly agape. I never thought I'd see such an expression of shock on that man's face.
    "Why do I care?" he repeated slowly
"Why do I care?" In the blink of an eye, he unbuckled and got out of the car, slamming his door behind him.
    Without warning, my door flew open; I didn't even have a chance to react. Suddenly, he was leaning over me, his hand resting near the left side of my head, more or less trapping me in my seat. His face was barely inches away from mine, and I was having a difficult time deducing through the blood rush in my head whether I wanted to kiss him or sucker punch him. Maybe both?
    “Forgive me, Dr. Quinzel,” he growled, “but despite whatever rumors about me your friend Ms. Dawes has been whispering in your ear, I am not a monster. I am cold? Yes. Ruthless? Perhaps so. However, I am not heartless. I care, because my drug was responsible for what happened to you earlier. As surprising as it may be, I do feel emotions. I am capable of feeling guilt. So, if you don't mind, I would like to observe you for a bit to make sure you don't succumb to anything dangerous, and make it up to you with dinner at the same time!"
    When he finally pulled away, I just stared up at him, dumbfounded. He looked at me expectantly, and I realized he wanted some form of confirmation that I hadn't just zoned out through his mini rant. I honestly had no words, so I just gave a single nod.
    "Now," he sighed, exasperated but somewhat relieved, "shall we?" He offered a hand, and I allowed him to help me out of the car. It wasn't until he extended his arm out a bit that I managed to find words again.
    "And they say chivalry is dead," I teased, taking his arm. A half-smirk formed on his lips, and he winked at me as he led me inside the restaurant.

    We were seated shockingly fast, considering how busy the place always was. However, I silently prayed that none of my colleagues - God forbid, Rachel - were there too. The last thing I needed was for Rachel to show up and think I was getting cozy with "the a**hole with a Ph.D" she despised.
    If worse came to worst though, and someone who knew me did see me and question why I was with Crane, I suppose I could just say it was a professional public meeting. I'd attended plenty of those in the past, and technically it was just a courtesy on his part, so it wasn't a total lie. I sat comfortably, resolved that one little white lie would suffice....... and then the waitress showed up.
    More specifically, it was the same waitress Rachel and I had when we dined. Even more specifically, it was the sister of my receptionist, who often came to chat when she was on break. As it so happened, the three of us had been having a playful conversation once, and the subject of men came up. I'd jokingly said that I'd only ever be seen with a man in a restaurant if I was on a date.
    As a waitress, she'd probably never attended any sort of public meeting between colleagues unless it was a staff meeting. So, it would seem that she most likely thought I was serious. Therefore, she really couldn't be blamed for what happened next.
    "Dr. Quinzel! I'm surprised to see you back so soon - not that I'm complaining!" A bubbly laugh escaped her as she handed us menus. Then, she seemed to realize that I was in fact, with a man. Immediately, she put two and two together, and a lightbulb went off in her head. "Oh my stars!" she gasped; her voice began to get louder. "This is a special night, isn't it? I'll be right back - I'll get some candles; make your date a little more romantic!"
    By the time I'd registered what she said, she was already on her way to the kitchens.
    "W-Wait!" I called, flustered. "We're not on a........... date." I glanced across the table nervously to see Crane's reaction. I'd expected shock or annoyance, instead he looked at me with a perplexed expression that held more amusement than anything.
    I smiled sheepishly and uttered a barely audible, "Thank you," when she returned with a few white candles and lit them. My face was red with embarrassment as my "date" ordered us a bottle of wine. "What is he dooooiing?" I groaned to myself. "Why is he playing alooong?"
    "So, darling," Crane's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his clasped fists. I gave him a side-eyed look.
    "I beg your pardon?" I fake coughed. He chuckled and gave me a sly smile.
    "Since we're on a 'date,' why don't we get to know each other better?" he asked coyly.