"Good afternoon, Miss Marks," he said, reaching out to shake hand, which he held for an extra moment as he locked eyes with her. Then turning to Joanna he said: "I'm sorry, but I don't remember your name. Georgina mentioned it, but it's slipped my mind."
"Prudence Heatherly," Joanna said. She shook Spencer's hand and stared up into his face. Deborah had been right; the man didn't look like her father, yet there was something about him that was similarly superficially appealing.
"I'm sorry to have kept you ladies waiting,' he said, switching his attention back to Deborah.
"We've been enjoying a chance to sit and relax," Deborah said. She could tell the good doctor was having trouble keeping his eyes off her crossed legs. "Miss Masterson has kept us on a busy schedule."
"I hope your visit has been successful."
"Very much so," Deborah said. "We'll be starting work tomorrow."
"Excellent," Spencer said. "Excellent indeed." He rubbed his hands restlessly and looked back and forth between the two women as if he were trying to make up his mind about something. He pulled a chair over and sat down across from them. "Well," he said. "What can we get you: coffee, tea, or a soft drink?"
"Some sparkling water would be nice," Deborah said.
"Same for me," Joanna said reluctantly. She felt like the odd man out. She hadn't particularly wanted to come to Wingate's office, and now that she had, it was painfully obvious the man was unabashedly interested in Deborah. As far as Joanna was concerned, the way he was looking at Deborah bordered on disgusting.
Spencer told the secretary to get the cold drinks. While she was doing so, he made small talk about the clinic. When the secretary returned it was with only two small bottles of San Pellegrino.
"Aren't you having anything?" Deborah asked.
"No, I'm fine," Spencer said. But he didn't seem to be. He crossed and uncrossed his legs several times while the women poured their drinks. He was obviously nervous about something.
"Are we taking too much of your time?" Joanna inquired. "Perhaps we should go and let you get back to your work."
"No, don't go," Spencer said. "Timewise I'm fine. What I would like to do, Miss Marks, is have a word with you in private."
Deborah took the glass from her lips and stared at Spencer. The question was so unexpected she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.
Spencer pointed toward his office. "If we could just step into the other room for a moment, I would be appreciative."
Deborah looked at Joanna, who shrugged, suggesting it didn't matter to her, although Deborah could tell she was not amused about the whole situation.
"All right," Deborah said, redirecting her attention back to Spencer. She put her glass down on the coffee table, and with a muffled grunt got herself to her feet. Following Spencer's lead she entered the office. Spencer came in behind her and closed the door.
"I'll come right to the point, Miss Marks," Spencer said. For the first time he avoided looking at her by directing his attention out the giant window. "I've encouraged an unspoken policy here at the clinic discouraging social liaisons between management and employees. And since you will technically not be an employee until tomorrow, I was wondering if you would consider having dinner with me tonight." The moment he got the last word out, he turned from the window and regarded her expectantly.
Deborah was rendered momentarily speechless. She'd been enjoying the part she was playing, but she hadn't anticipated attracting anything more than a second look. She hadn't expected to he asked out by the head of the clinic – a man who she'd assumed was married and who was at least twice her age.
"There's a quaint restaurant not too far out of town," Spencer said as Deborah hesitated. "I don't know if you've been there yet. It's called the Barn."
"I'm certain it's charming," Deborah managed, finding her voice. "And it's awfully nice of you to think of me, but there are some logistical problems. You see, my roommate and I don't live out here. We live in Boston."
"I see," Spencer said. "Well, perhaps I could talk you into an early dinner. I believe they open as early as five-thirty, which isn't very long from now. That way you could be on the road back to Boston as early as seven or eight o'clock."
Instinctively Deborah checked her watch. It was almost four in the afternoon.
"I certainly enjoyed our little chat this morning," Spencer added encouragingly. "I'd love to continue it and learn more about what aspect of molecular biology captures your fancy. I mean, we obviously have common interests."
"Common interests," Deborah scoffed to herself while she stared into the man's blue eyes. She sensed a touch of desperation in this successful – and reasonably attractive – physician. Deborah decided to test the water. "What would Mrs. Wingate say about this idea?"
"There is no Mrs. Wingate," Spencer responded. "Unfortunately my wife divorced me a number of years ago. It was unexpected. In retrospect I suppose I was too dedicated to my work and neglected my marriage."
"I'm sorry," Deborah said.
"It's all right," Spencer said, lowering his eyes. "It's a cross I've had to bear. The good side is that I've finally come to terms with the situation, and I'm ready to get out there and socialize to some extent."
"Well, I'm flattered that you have thought of me. But, I am out here in Bookford with my roommate, and we have only one car."
"You don't think she could entertain herself for a couple of hours?"
Deborah could not believe this guy. Did he truly believe that she'd be willing to ask her best friend to twiddle her thumbs for two hours so they could have dinner? It was so absurdly egocentric she couldn't think of an immediate reply.
"There're plenty of things she could do in town," Spencer said. "There's a nice little bar and a surprisingly good pizza place. And the local book store is a favorite hangout with an espresso bar in the back."
Deborah was about to tell the good doctor to go jump in the mill pond when she held back. A way of turning the unexpected situation to her and Joanna's benefit occurred to her like a bolt out of the blue. Instead of telling Spencer off, she said: "You know, dinner at the Barn is starting to sound very tempting!"
Spencer's face brightened. "I'm pleased, and I'm sure Penelope, or what ever her name is, will find checking out the town enjoyable. As for you, I'm sure you'll find the Barn a surprisingly good restaurant. The food is country style but tasty, and the wine list isn't so bad either."
"Her name is Prudence," Deborah said. "The deal is that Prudence comes to the restaurant as well."
Spencer's expression clouded. He started to protest, but Deborah cut him off
"She's a great kid," Deborah said. "Don't be too quick to judge because of her style. She might look conservative, but let me tell you, she can be a hell-raiser when she gets a few drinks under her belt."
"I'm sure she's lovely," Spencer said. "But I was hoping to have some time with you alone."
"You might find this hard to believe," Deborah said. "But we often go out on dates together with the same guy, provided the guy is willing to have an open mind." Improvising in hopes of being seductively coquettish, she winked while touching her upper lip with the tip of her tongue.
"Really?" Spencer commented as his imagination took wing. He'd never been with two women before, although he'd seen such episodes in X-rated videos.
"Really!" Deborah said, trying to make her voice huskier than it really was.
Spencer gestured with his palms up, fingers spread. "Hey, I certainly have an open mind! Let's do it!"
"Wonderful," Deborah said. "We'll meet you at the Barn at five-thirty. And do me a favor."
"Certainly," Spencer said. "What?"
"Don't work too hard the rest of the afternoon. It will be better if you're not too tired."