Della and Dr. Davies

She should have been nervous, evaluating her first patient without supervision. It had been a long and laborious year, practicing under the tutelage of a mentor, working under a proverbial microscope. Considering her lack of experience, Doctor Lara Davies should have questioned why she was chosen to privately see this particular patient, hand-picked without any vetting or so much as a single reference. However, newly titled Dr. Davies never considered any notion other than accolades for her greatest achievement. Graduating third in her class, surely, she was coveted for her intellectual ability to retain information and pass tests; no real experience required. 

Lara received a call offering her an opportunity to evaluate the current mental state of a prominent philanthropist's daughter. The caller stressed, anonymity was crucial, and a car would be sent at precisely two p.m. Thursday afternoon to deliver her to their residence. Davies, eager as she was arrogant, agreed with no query. Forty-eight hours later, she was escorted through a rather modest home in a very affluent neighborhood just outside of Annapolis and instructed to wait in the study. She chose a wingback chair closest to the wall-sized bookcase and did exactly as she was told; waited. 

Seven minutes after the intended appointment time, a man joined her in the study. He appeared almost stoic as he sat in the matching chair across from hers and introduced himself. “Thank you for coming. I’m Ren Korbin and my daughter Della should be joining us momentarily.”

They sat, staring off in opposite directions, avoiding eye contact, and small talk. The impatient father shifted in his seat, focusing on the door as if his disparaging stare would magically pull it open to reveal his defiant daughter entering the room.

 A smile crept across Lara’s thin painted lips as she imagined being graced with this magnitude of wealth and status; the spell only broken by the loud clamoring of the study door abruptly swinging open and slamming into a marble plant stand. 

“I’m late, I’m late…white rabbit, blah blah blah.” the young woman's voice sang out, obnoxiously as she sauntered in and threw herself down in an overstuffed chair nearest the window. “Ok, doc, shrink me. Oh, ha, well didn’t that joke fit in well with my Wonderland reference? Damn, I’m so clever, I amaze myself.” she taunted. “Anyone for tea?”

Ren Korbin stood and gestured toward his daughter, “Dr. Davies, this is Della, my daughter. I’m hoping you and she can at the very least establish communication today. I don’t expect more than that for your first meeting. I will return in an hour. That is, if you’re still here.” 

Lara rose, shook his hand and assured him they would be just fine. She removed her coat, draping it over the back of her chair, moving her seat closer to Della. “See you in an hour, Mr. Korbin.”. She cleared her throat and addressed Della, “First things first. Do you know why you’re here?” she asked with unwavering confidence. 

Della laughed maniacally, “Wait, you don’t?” she threw back. “Well, isn’t this just typical?”

Lara smoothed her skirt over her lap. “What may I ask is typical about this, Della?” 

“My father; commissioning another poor, weak and unsuspecting virgin to sacrifice.” Della dramatically tossed her wavy auburn hair over her right shoulder, dismissive and antagonistic.

Lara fidgeted ever so slightly, reaching up and gently tucking her own hair behind her ear. “Let’s begin again, shall we? I’m Dr. Lara Davies and I’ve been invited by your father to chat with you today. Just a preliminary meeting to determine if I’d be a good fit to work with you on issue resolution. How does that sound?” 

“Disingenuous.”

“Certainly, that is not my intention. Would you prefer I record our session, or take notes by hand?” She pulled a leatherbound notebook from her valise and opened it to a blank page.

“This is a session? I thought we were chatting.” Della facetiously emphasized the word chatting.

Dr. Davies maintained her composure. “Your father tells me you’ve been experiencing some erratic outbursts, and he suspects you’ve been, well, how shall I put this, self-medicating.” 

“So, daddy thinks I’m doing drugs?” she obnoxiously spat with childlike inflection. 

“Yes, he does. Is he wrong?” 

“Oh, I doubt it.” 

“Should I take that as an admission of dereliction?” Lara proposed as she scratched away on her legal pad. Entitled, spoiled, undisciplined.

“If I say yes, how many Hail Mary’s will it take to absolve me?” 

“Della, I’m a psychiatrist, not a priest. You seem proud of your insubordinate behavior. We are simply trying to help you.” 

“Dear Dr. Davies, I’m offended. In order for insubordination to apply, one must first adhere to the notion that those you say want to help me are in fact superior.” 

“Are they not deserving of your respect? Do you happen to have a degree?” 

“Now, you ask; after making an obtuse assumption regarding my intellectual ability? It seems as though your own arrogance caused you to make a crucial mistake before walking through my front door.” 

“What mistake would that be?” Lara was losing ground.

“You should have asked questions. Were you so flattered by the invitation, so certain of your competence that it hadn’t occurred to you to ask anything about me before our introduction today?” 

“I was told this meeting was for the purpose of getting to know you.”

Della shook her head and gave a disproving chuckle. “Lady, you have a lot to learn about doing your job. Our time together has come to an end, at least for today. Thank you for wasting my time.” 

Mouth agape, Lara sat wide-eyed as Della left the room. Several minutes passed, and still she sat alone, wondering what she was expected to do. She stood and donned her coat, taking a step toward the door, just as another man entered. He was very distinguished and remarkably resembled Della’s father. “Dr. Davies, a car is waiting to drive you home.”

“Thank you.” she responded, failing to hide her embarrassment.

Della waited until she heard the car pull away before joining her father in the den. “Well, she’s gone.” she announced.

Director Brandon Keenan and his twin brother Ben sat watching the replay of last night’s football game. Brandon paused the television, “What are your thoughts, Del?”

“I kind of liked her.” she confessed. “True, she’s entirely too sure of herself despite her blatant lack of practical experience, but there was something endearing about her. I almost felt guilty for all the deception.” 

“Deception was the directive. We have three more candidates we can call in, but if you’d be comfortable with the cavalier Dr. Lara, we will contact her next week.”

“Do it.”

Special agent Delaney Keenan sat on the far end of her gray chenille sofa, facing Brandon. “First of all, I hate that alias. If we choose to work with Davies, I’ll have to remain Della Korbin?” 

Ben addressed his daughter, “It’s better than some of the other options we came up with; at least you get to keep your initials.” he teased. 

Brandon chimed in, “Della took it easy on Dr. Lara. I was anticipating a rather brutal verbal assault. Besides, you may not have to play Della for long, the endgame would be recruitment. Hopefully, our Dr. Davies can tolerate Della long enough to be thoroughly vetted by the organization.”

Delaney kicked off her shoes and leaned back into the corner of the sofa, “I know where you’re going with this Uncle Brandon, and might I reiterate; I do not need a partner, and I definitely do not want to field train the likes of Davies.”

“At some point Agent Keenan, you’ll be commissioned for an assignment that requires multiple agents and to designate a random operative to join you in the field would be inequitable.” 

“Thank you, director Keenan, may I speak with my uncle now?” 

“Very funny Del, it’s because I am your uncle that your safety is so important to me. Now, before I put the game back on, we are calling her Monday, yes?”

“Yes, the sooner I can establish her as my continued alibi and cover, the better. And, by the way, I saw the game last night; the Giants lost.” 

“Damn it Delaney!”