Side note: I am a nerd so I spent about twenty minutes seeing if I could figure out the name the restaurant that they go to, but ultimately I realized that was too much for even me, so I picked one of the higher end restaurants and went with their name. I know nothing about it except that it's French and pricey. Onward.
As you settle into your seats up on the second floor of the open room, she asks the planned for question. "So what happened with the boyfriend?" After all, it is how you got her attention. You begin to rattle off the pre-written story, but are startled when she interjects with an American idiom you don't recognize. You clarify its meaning, then agree with her. You realize that you have not been acting the part of the grieving ex-girlfriend, and quickly modify the tale, taking the blame for the fictional relationship's end. You try to tell yourself it isn't because you want her to know you're fine with being single. But somehow, that seems important. Her laugh when you call yourself 'the cold turkey asshole' sends a thrill right through you, enough that you bite your lip to keep yourself grounded.
"Dr. Leekie, so nice to see you," you suddenly hear. The thrill in your spine stills and shatters almost audibly to your ears. Glancing down, you know immediately that he has seen your opened report and inserted himself into your evening of his own accord. Your heart sinks. Forcing a smile to your face, you ask if you should invite him up, knowing that if 324B21 (must be this, not Cosima, Cosima is your person to spend time with - oh merde!) does not agree, he will simply show up and sit down with you unprompted.
She shrugs her shoulders, giving you a look and pointing out your newly single status. You jump to reassure her that no, he is far too old for you to want to spend time with him like that. Her answer that his mind is sexy causes you to reflect, knowing that was the reason you'd pursued his attention when you decided you wanted to work with clones. Not knowing if your new friend(?) truly thought you should go for him, or just wanted to flirt herself (a quick mental review confirms that your subject is single as of her arrival, but something about that break up sticks out to you, but you can't quite recall), you take it as an indicator to head down the stairs.
"Dr. Cormier," your boss says softly. "I thought I'd help you get through your dinner with 324B21 a little more efficiently. Then, perhaps..."
You blush hotly, dreading returning to his hotel room. "I have already agreed to have wine at the subject's apartment following our meal," you answer. "She offered and I did not think declining would be a wise choice."
"Quite right, quite right." His eyes shine. "If she gets drunk enough, you can look through her apartment to see what she has been working on. Good thinking Doctor." And now your excitement for that time alone is diminished, but you lead him up the stairs to your table, feeling his eyes staring at you from behind.
Watching her talk about her thesis keeps you focused. You drink your wine and smile as her hands fly and facts come pouring out. You have to rein in both a gasp and a laugh when she calls out Dr. Leekie on the current patent attempts being made. You begin to say something disarming, lest he become upset, but he finishes your sentence before you can find an appropriate adjective. Cheeky, yes that is a good word for Cosi- for 324B21 (must not be Cosima, must not be a friend)... except then you go and say, "But that's why I like her," and spoil your entire attempt at being objective.
Then he invites you both to apply to Dyad. You play your part, sounding excited and eager, but she pushes back, insisting she is only a 'geek girl from Berkeley.' His statement about the cover of Scientific American startles you, because you can read clearly between the lines, his implication to your subject, as well as the reminder to you that 324B21 is just that, a subject.
Though dinner is filled with more discussion of the institute and the many things that the two of you could work on, still she does not give an answer. While she fetches the coats, Dr. Leekie surreptitiously pays, assuring you that he could get it expensed faster than you could anyway. You hadn't planned to submit an expense report for this. This was supposed to be fun.
She returns, handing you your black peacoat, shrugging back into hers with a grin and a tilt of her head. Bidding a goodbye to your employer, she turns to you. "So, you, me, my place, wine?"
"I thought you'd never ask," you say through a grin of your own. You hook your arm through hers on instinct, and leave the restaurant smiling together.