Soulmates & Twin Flames

32 - Center Of Attention

I follow Nate to my dad's table and take a seat when he pulls my chair.

Dad leans toward my ear to speak over the music. "You missed the hors d'oeuvres"

"I bet they were boring," Nate says, standing behind my seat.

We might have missed the appetizers, but the main courses on large silver plates look delicious. I grab my fork and dip it into a flaky fillet of fish smothered in a creamy white sauce, then offer a bite to Nate. He bends over my shoulder to taste it, and lets out a moan.

"Black cod in miso sauce," he announces, squeezing his butt onto my chair.

The lady next to us glares at Nate from her seat, then decides to ignore us. Nate doesn't seem to care about anything else but food as I feed him another bite.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" he asks me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

"Not at all." I don't mind sharing my food with him either.

Nate grins, flags down a waiter, and orders us some wine. When Dad's half-eaten bread roll catches his eye, he reaches over to grab it but Dad frowns at the intrusion.

Nate snatches the roll, looking Dad in the eye. "You've already had your bread, doctor! This one's Abby's."

I can't help but laugh at how shameless he is! It seems Dad can't either. Dad chuckles, giving me a knowing look over his glasses before turning to talk to Dr. Pitri.

Nate tears off a piece of bread, dips it into the sauce and feeds it to me. I struggle to stifle my laughter and chew, while he devours half of my food.

Letting out a satisfied grunt, Nate leans back, causing our chair to squeak in protest. I keep chuckling as I polish off the rest of the fish, washing it down with a generous sip of wine. A waiter approaches to ask if we need an extra chair, but Nate shakes his head.

Meanwhile, two seats away, Dr. Pitri is grilling my dad about giving speeches. Dad's shoulders tense as he grips the butter knife, unable to meet the dean's gaze.

"Just read the last line, Shepherd," Pitri insists. "Offer a few words of encouragement for the patients' families."

"They are not here." Dad's voice tightens with panic. "This crowd would like to raise a fund. My words won't mean anything."

Dean Pitri leaves his fork and turns to me. "Convince him, Abby."

I sit up straight immediately. "Dr. Shepherd came here as you requested, Doctor Pitri," I say and I'm trying really hard to keep my voice at a respectable level. "You know he doesn't handle pressure well."

"Just a few words! Mention the university. Give some recognition to our faculty. Or fine... Simply say thank you for being here tonight!"

Dad sighs and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Nate leans forward to touch his arm. "You don't have to."

Dad rubs his temples. "I... I can lecture hundreds of students, but I can't give speeches. I didn't even speak at my wife's funeral. Someone else had to read the eulogy. My Nobel acceptance speech was a disaster. The dean knows I'm not cut out for this! I don't see why he's insisting."

Nate sets down his wine glass. "I think what the dean wants is just an acknowledgment, Dr. Shepherd—to show that you're here and proud of your achievements."

"Yes!" Dr. Pitri cries. "Thank you."

"I can't..." Dad whispers.

"You know, acknowledgments come in different forms," Nate says. "After the dean's speech, you can nod, wave, smile, or raise your drink. How does that sound?"