Chapter Four: Is This A Date?

“How much do I owe you for the clothes?” Kat found Evan in their office later that day.

“Don’t worry about it—it was my fault to begin with,” He said, smiling at her. “Consider it a gift,”

“That’s too bad because I don’t accept gifts as apologies, especially from strangers,”

“We’re hardly strangers, Kat. I have, after all, seen you in varying stages of—um—undress,”

“You’re being inappropriate,” Kat warned.

Evan held his hands up. “You’re right, I’m sorry. How about you buy me lunch, then we’ll call it even,”

“Well…” Kat pondered the request.

“Unless you’re scared…?” He couldn’t help taunting her.

“No, of course not!” She denied hotly. “I can do one better—dinner and a movie! On me!” She refused to be called a coward.

“Sounds great! It’s a date,” Evan quickly gathered his papers and laptop. “I have a meeting. I’ll meet you back here at six-thirty,” He winked at her before strolling out the door.

Kat stared after him, stunned. “What did I just agree to?” She moaned, putting her head between her hands. Had she just asked the man out on a date? Damn her quick temper! 

She shouldn't have reacted so quickly. Now she had to spend a few hours alone with the man in a romantic setting. No, no, she will see it as just dinner with a coworker, who just happened to be an extremely annoying, albeit handsome man. There was no point dwelling on it, she realized. She was a good eater and liked movies, the only difference was that this time she would have company...of the male variety!

Kat spent the remainder of the day reassuring herself that a strong, intelligent woman like herself could handle a date. 

It was exactly six-thirty when Evan met Kat in front of their office. His lips curved in amusement as he watched her. She was back in her shell again, having changed out of her earlier clothing and into black slacks and plain black shirt that hinted at nothing of her figure. If it weren't for her face and hair, she would have easily been mistaken for a man. She even walked like one, her gait heavy. The expression on her face showed her annoyance.

"I see The Beast is back," He whispered to himself.

"Excuse me?" Kat shouted despite only standing a few feet away.

"Nothing, nothing," He pretended to rub his eardrums.

"That's what I thought. Now, let's get this thing over with. I'll drive," Kat offered. She had decided earlier that she didn't want to sit idly by while he drove; she needed to do something to keep from getting nervous. Not waiting for his response, she headed out of the building.

"Sure," He followed her into the faculty parking lot.

Kat glared at him as she got into the driver seat of her sports car. "What restaurant?" She asked curtly, putting the car into gear.

Evan said the name of an exclusive Italian eatery in town. "I already made reservations," He said after she gave him a curious look.

Kat shrugged. One of her cousins owned the place so she was familiar with the location. She steered the car into high gear, working the stick like a pro as she weaved smoothly through traffic. Evan could only sit silently, hanging onto dear life. He held his breath when she just barely made it through a wide intersection. "You're supposed to slow down at yellow," He grumbled.

She smiled, glancing at him slyly. "I didn't know you were afraid of a little speed," She said.

"I'm not—I just value my life, that's all," He retorted.

Five minutes—an eternity to Evan—later, they were seated in a dim, secluded corner of the crowded restaurant. No matter what day of the week or time of day, the place was always bustling with diners. Kat knew personally, having spent some free time during her childhood learning how to make pasta with the ladies her cousin had persuaded to come with him from Italy. She had loved listening to their banter, picking up the language along the way.

After the waiter left with their orders, he turned his attention back to her. He suppressed a smile, noting her discomfort as she fidgeted in her seat, her eyes looking at everything but him. "You really don't want to be here, do you?"

"Why do you say that?" She busied herself with the bread basket, breaking off a chunk of freshly baked bread before dipping it in the home-made olive oil mixture.

"Oh...I don't know, you haven't looked at me since we sat down, for one. You really want this date to end, don't you?"

"This isn't a date," Kat denied vehemently. 

"Need I remind you that you suggested dinner and a movie? All I wanted was a free lunch," He grinned.

“You implied that I was a coward," She reminded him.

"Maybe I did, but you did invite me out tonight. I had to cancel my other dinner date because of you. Besides, what would you call two people enjoying a romantic dinner and seeing a movie if not a date, then what?"

Kat's brows furrowed. "Fine, it does look like a date but we know that it's not. And this is not romantic. I am only repaying you for the shirt—although, if you hadn't barged in on me, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"Ah, leave it to you to turn this pleasant evening into a business contraction," He sipped his red wine, his eyes meeting hers over the candlelight. "Can we just enjoy dinner as colleagues?" 

She took a sip of her sparkling water before answering. "Okay,"

"You really are something else, Kat,"

"What do you mean?" She looked at him in surprise.

"For one, you have such proper dinner etiquette but you act so...so—" He struggled to find the correct adjective.

"Bitchy? Uncouth? Scary? Take your pick," She sounded serious. "You can call me whatever you want as I'm sure I've heard them all."

"Oh?" He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I know what the students and faculty call me behind my back, Dean Alston. Do I deserve the moniker? Probably," She shrugged at that, pausing to sample the marinated peppers. "I have to live up to the reputation; if I'm not mean or tough in class, I'd feel like I’ve let my students down."

"Why would you think that?" Evan was more than curious by her words. 

"It's hard out there in the real world, especially if one wants to be a lawyer. I'm only preparing my students for what to expect when they have to argue their cases in front of a judge and jury. If one can't survive my interrogation style teaching, how will he or she fare in the tense quarters of a judge's chamber?" Kat broke off another piece of bread.  

"I never intended to be harsh but it was extremely difficult to be taken seriously as a professor when I was younger than my students. In order to take control of the room, I had to be tough." It was the first time she'd ever told anyone that.

"Were you scared, Kat? Your first day?"

She nodded. "I was petrified but I pulled through." Kat was surprised by the ease with which they spoke. Rarely did she ever confess her true feelings, much less her fears, to another. Her parents expected her to succeed at everything, none of her sisters understood her and she didn't really have a friend in which to share her thoughts and doubts.  

"Enough about me, tell me something about you," She fidgeted slightly, wanting to change the topic away from herself.

"There's not much to tell, really. I come from a family of lawyers and it just so happened that I love the study of law, especially criminal law. I went to law school and graduated. All at normal speed, however," Evan chuckled. "Pretty boring compared to a child prodigy like you. I heard you graduated uni at sixteen? Impressive. Everyone, including President Smithson, is scared of you." He saw her look of surprise and nodded.  "You know he is. My brother, Andy, had you a couple of years ago and told me some stories. Did you really make that kid urinate in class?"

"Yes, I did," Kat answered, her tone serious. She hadn't thought it was funny at the time. "That was the second class I taught...it's not funny,"

Evan only laughed harder. "Oh, I'm sure of that, especially for the poor guy. Ah, I wish I had been there—I'd love to see The Beast in action," He stopped abruptly when the waiter made his reappearance with their plates. For Evan, a pan-seared rack of lamb encrusted with mint pesto and served with garlic green beans and new potatoes. Kat had ordered the lasagna verde with bechamel sauce and garnished with fried spinach.

"I'd rather not be referred to by that ridiculous name," She said, digging into her dish. The spinach was crispy, complementing the cheesy pasta.

"You're right, it doesn't suit you anyway," He dug into the perfectly cooked meat with relish. "This is delicious. How’s yours?"

"Great, as always. Pietro must know I'm here tonight," That explained her bigger than average portion size. "He does know how much I love his lasagna,"

"You know the chef?" Evan had hoped to impress her with his ability to reserve a table on such short notice but it seemed his plan had failed.

Kat nodded, wiping her mouth with the linen napkin. "I would think so—he taught me how to cook when I was a teen. But, let's not change the subject. Why doesn't the nickname suit me? Am I not mean and tough as nails?"

"Ha! I find you only the tiniest bit intimidating and due more to your brilliant mind than anything else," He replied. "I'm glad I accepted the position. I really had to see for myself what you were like,"

"And did I disappoint you?"

"Far from it. You're really just a kitty cat," He flashed her a dazzling smile. "Not harmful at all,"

"Should I be flattered?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Is something wrong?" He was used to women hanging onto his every word—not questioning them like she was doing now.

"You didn't really take the job because of me, did you?"

"Not completely but you were the deciding factor,"

"You are an arrogant, egotistical ass. We both know that you don't need this job, not when your practice is already successful. You could've declined the offer but you had to take it, didn't you? People like you disgust me."

"Please explain," Evan's dark eyes bore into hers. "I'd really like to hear how I’ve offended you."

"I really wanted the Dean's position—I've worked at it for five years. You have no experience at all and President Smithson just hands it to you! And, now, you're telling me that you only accepted the position because you wanted to check me out!"

"We both know that you don't need the promotion," He said thinly.

Kat recognized the underlying anger in his voice and suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature. The man looked downright scary and threatening at the moment. "Don’t assume that you know me just because we share an office, Dean Alston."

He smirked. "Kat, I know who you are. Your family is richer than God—heck, your trust fund is in the millions, if not billions." He leaned back to survey her. "You definitely are not lacking in the money department."

Kat's mouth straightened into a thin line. "I don't want to live off of my family's earnings. The promotion was important to me,"

Evan felt slightly guilty. It was apparent from her words and body language that any failure affected her on a visceral level. This was the girl who started college at eight years old, he reminded himself. While he had been playing with his friends, she had been attending lectures at university; their childhoods had been vastly different.  

"You're still very young—there's plenty of room for accomplishments later on in your life," He found himself consoling her.

Kat nodded. "True, I am much younger than you...so, I'll give the old dog a bone," She laughed at his outraged expression.

"Thirty-five is not old," He argued.

"You're ancient to me," She knew exactly where to hit him so it hurt!

Evan held up a hand in surrender, a helpless grin on his face. "Please, enough, I'm rather sensitive about that," He joked, watching as she returned to her lasagna.  

"Why was the promotion so important to you anyway...in another few years, I'm sure you'll be the President of the University. Besides, I wouldn't call two Doctorates, a Masters and Bachelors failures,"

"That's none of your business,"