Chapter 36 Even
The applause rang out with wild enthusiasm.
Quinley was mortified and shoved Zachary away with all her might.
David stood in his white coat, long legs casually crossed as he leaned against the stairwell entrance. He'd enjoyed the show and wasn't about to let it go, actually clapping his hands.
"The almighty Zachary actually got slapped by a woman? That's quite the welcome gift. Please, don't let me interrupt—carry on."
He gestured for them to continue with a mock-polite wave.
"Get lost!"
Zachary's voice was ice-cold with fury.
David looked at Quinley with a grin. "He's just asking for it. Give him a few more slaps, and I guarantee I'll cure your brother completely."
Quinley's face burned crimson—she was beyond embarrassed.
In three years with Zachary, no one had ever caught them in a compromising position. In public, he was the stern, aloof, unapproachable Mr. Jennings, while she played the role of a dutiful secretary, never crossing any lines.
In private, she carefully maintained the boundaries between them. Except when the lights were off and they were in bed, there had never been any intimate behavior between them.
She'd protected him and herself.
Now, in front of David, their secret was completely exposed. She panicked.
"Get LOST!"
Zachary roared again, striding forward to grab David by the collar and shove him away.
"Fine, I'm gone! I'm heading straight back to Novaria. Don't come crying to me later!"
David said his piece and actually left.
With him gone, the remaining two felt awkward.
Quinley hung her head, the hand that had slapped Zachary trembling uncontrollably. The force hadn't been that strong, but it had landed on his face—the emotional damage was significant.
"Think carefully about what I said."
After a moment of contemplation, Zachary's deep eyes found Quinley again. She didn't respond, just fled as if escaping disaster.
In Dennis's room, David was wearing his stethoscope, conducting a routine examination.
When Quinley entered, her expression was unnatural.
"Your brother's condition is excellent. Barring any complications, he should recover quickly."
David didn't even look up as he spoke.
The white coat seemed to have magical powers, hiding all traces of his roguish charm.
Zachary had extensive connections and knew people from all circles. Quinley hadn't known he was acquainted with David, but now she understood that David's treatment of Dennis was thanks to Zachary.
Regardless of everything else, she should be grateful.
"Thank you, Dr. Brown."
The flush on Quinley's face hadn't completely faded. Under the overhead lights, even the fine hair on her face was visible.
David removed his stethoscope, and when his gaze swept toward Quinley, he caught sight of exactly this scene. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"How are you going to thank me?"
Quinley was stunned by his directness, left speechless.
"How about this." David checked his watch. "Buy me breakfast. I've been working all night and I'm starving."
It wasn't an unreasonable request.
"Sure, I'll treat you."
Quinley quickly agreed.
"Meet me at the main entrance."
David left after saying this.
Quinley waited at the main entrance for about five minutes before David appeared. He'd shed his white coat and changed into a clean white T-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers.
The whole look was refreshingly casual.
He was tall but lean, not as solidly built as Zachary. But his fair skin and lively personality brought out a youthful energy.
"Dr. Brown, what would you like to eat?"
Quinley asked earnestly.
When she'd been Zachary's secretary, she'd often asked him the same question. Zachary was particular about his food—ingredients had to be fresh and organic, with careful attention to nutritional balance.
She'd been meticulous, compiling his usual orders into a simple menu. When she needed to order for him, she'd bring the menu and he'd just check off a few items with his pen.
After leaving Zachary, Quinley had never asked that question again. Now, as her memories resurfaced, her mind was suddenly filled with images of Zachary.
She shook her head, driving the images away.
"Whatever."
"There's no 'whatever' for breakfast in Rosewood City!"
Quinley joked lightly.
"I'll leave it up to you."
David shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets with the air of a street punk.
At 5 AM, Rosewood City's dawn was just beginning. The entire city was slowly awakening after a night's sleep.
Breakfast shops were already bustling, with early risers scattered here and there.
Quinley led David through two alleys past the hospital entrance, taking him to eat at Rosewood City's most authentic and distinctive community cafeteria.
These places were usually hidden in run-down old neighborhoods—small storefronts with terrible dining environments, but flavors that couldn't be matched anywhere else.
Soon they arrived at their destination.
The community cafeteria was incredibly run-down. The characters on the sign above the door were too faded to read. Inside were just a few greasy tables, with a row of plastic stools outside the entrance.
There was no air conditioning—just an old fan whirring away. Heat-averse locals would buy their breakfast and sit on the plastic stools outside, enjoying their noodles, coffee, and sandwiches. It didn't look healthy, but they ate with obvious relish.
"You brought me here to eat this?"
David was incredulous.
Quinley didn't respond. She called out to the busy worker inside: "Two bowls of noodles, light on the spice, two coffees without sugar, and two sandwiches each."
Her order was smooth and practiced—clearly she came here often.
David's brow furrowed like two earthworms. His usual breakfast was a cup of coffee with two slices of cold bread, eaten in a spotless restaurant.
"Hey, I'm not eating this stuff."
David protested.
Quinley could tell, but she ignored him. When a plastic stool became available at the entrance, she quickly grabbed a small stool and sat down.
Soon the noodles arrived—chili oil floating on the surface, the pungent aroma stimulating the taste buds.
Quinley grabbed her utensils and began eating with gusto. The familiar taste, the taste of childhood.
Next came the coffee in two old-looking ceramic cups. Quinley picked up one and took a big gulp.
Then the sandwiches arrived.
David looked at the delicious food with disgust.
"Really not eating?"
Quinley picked up a sandwich and asked.
David shook his head like a rattle.
"I don't eat junk food."
Quinley rolled her eyes. She grabbed the sandwich and took a big bite, crumbs falling from the corners of her mouth, which she wiped away with her hand.
After finishing one bite of sandwich, she sipped her coffee, then picked up some noodles with her fork.
Quinley's eating style was infectious. David sat with his arms crossed, watching from a distance. Somehow, watching her eat, his hand reached for the sandwich.
He broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth, chewing tentatively. The flavor hit his taste buds like a revelation—he grabbed the entire sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth.
"Have some coffee so you don't choke."
Quinley pointed to the coffee. The man who'd been so disgusted moments before picked up the ceramic cup and drained it in one go.
Then his eyes turned to the noodle bowl. He grabbed the disposable utensils and took a huge bite.
"Want some garlic?"
Quinley got up and grabbed several cloves from the condiment station, offering them to David.
Without hesitation, he picked up a clove and popped it straight into his mouth.
After finishing breakfast, David wore a look of complete satisfaction.
"Thank you for letting me experience such delicious breakfast."
David let out a satisfied burp.
Quinley boldly turned the tables: "Dr. Brown, how are you planning to thank me?"
David was surprised that Quinley was copying his approach. He pointed at her with a shaking finger, about to speak, when Quinley cut him off.
"How about this, Dr. Brown? You forget everything you saw and heard today, and we'll call it even."