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 dateuninvited. 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.”
