by Chloe Grey
Surprisingly, I did have a dress. Mom had bought it for me as a birthday present two years ago. I had only worn it once—in the store’s changing room when I first tried it on.
I put on the black sheath dress, finding difficulties with zipping the back of the dress up. The first time I tried, a few locks of my hair got caught in the zipper, making it an insanely painful experience. The second time, I wisely gathered my hair and flung it over my shoulder and far away from that damn thing before I finally managed to zip it up, hopping around my room.
I wished Zane were here to comment if I looked good. I could send him a picture, but he might be in the middle of Monopoly, and I didn’t want to disturb him. Mom said I’d looked good in it, but she said that to about everything I wore. On second thought, my best friend did that too. I had to trust my own judgment.
I styled my hair into a loop waterfall braid my mother taught me and put on my makeup.
After I was done, I studied myself in the mirror, walking backward a little bit and striking a pose. I placed my hands on my hips and stuck out my butt. I thought I looked alright, especially with the dress clinging to my curves and with the V-neckline showing off a little of my bust. I looked alright but surely not enough for him. What did he see in me anyway?
After double checking how I looked, I sprayed on perfume and walked out of my room. Mr. Asshole two was waiting for me, sitting in my spot and reading his iPad. His hair was done up, not a single lock was out of place, and he wore his signature two-piece navy suit, but with the suit jacket open and without a tie.
He stood up and smiled when he spotted me.
“Hey,” he said, his gaze raking over my body, making me more self-conscious than I already was.
“Hey.”
He was still scrutinizing me. “You look...”
I held my breath. What would he say? Why was he hesitating? Was my makeup off? I resisted the urge to run back into my room and check my tiny mirror. My hair? I reached up to fluff my hair.
“... nice,” he finally said. “You look very nice.”
I allowed myself to breathe. “Thanks. You too.”
I tensed up as he walked toward me, his delicious pineapple scent tickling my nostril. I inhaled sharply when he leaned in and kissed me on my right cheek.
“You ready?” He took a step back and studied me, probably to see how I reacted to the kiss.
“Yeah,” I said, or at least that was what I thought I said. I was in a daze.
He placed a hand on the small of my back and led me outside.
I DIDN’T UNDERSTAND a word on the menu.
What the hell was a beignet smoked alp milk or a Sea bass à la Grenobloisem or a Red cabbage duck? Was there even such a thing as a red cabbage?
The worst part was that the menu listed no prices anywhere. Why wouldn’t the menu have prices listed? It made no sense.
My date must have sensed my confusion. He reached over and pointed to several items on my menu.
“I recommend the three-course meal with the black truffle stuffed macaroni as your starter, the grilled Cornish red mullet as your main, and the white chocolate mousse as your dessert.” His smooth voice cut through the classical music. “You will love it.”
I just nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
We ordered our food. The waiter recommended a bottle of champagne that sounded like something out of a tongue twister challenge.
My date looked at me. “Do you want to try it?”
I nodded, and thanked the waiter after he poured the alcohol in a fancy way—just like in the movies. My date didn’t thank the waiter, which bothered me a little.
“I thought you hated alcohol,” I said when the waiter left with a curt bow. Again, I was feeling like I didn’t belong here, unlike my date, who would fit in anywhere.
“This is okay. As long as it’s only a couple of glasses and only on special occasions. Not drinking yourself to death in a bar.”
I looked away, scanning the place and sipping on the champagne.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said after a while of gazing at me. “What’s wrong?”
I sighed. “When you said we were going someplace nice, I didn’t expect... this.”
“Do you feel out of place?”
I nodded, taking another sip. I had never tried champagne before, and this had far exceeded my expectations.
“That’s fine.” He smiled at me, and suddenly I felt more relaxed. “I understand.”
“Do you always eat in places like this?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Only when I bring someone special.”
My cheeks turned crimson again. Was he always like this? He was like a completely different person from the day I opened my door to him.
Then I remembered something.
“Your schedule for tomorrow,” I started. “There are some complications in your—”
He raised two fingers, silencing me. “Audrey, please don’t talk about work outside of office hours. Especially not now when it’s only you and me.”
“Okay.”
“Where’s Zane?” He asked me, refilling my glass in the same fancy way the waiter did. “Why did he cancel his dinner with you?”
I took a sip. “He’s with his ex.”
My date didn’t miss a single thing. He caught the slight frown in my lips. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No, I’m happy for him. It’s just that I’ll hear all about his adventures in bed tomorrow. I keep telling him to stop, but he doesn’t. He thinks he’s fueling my imagination for my writing.”
“Can I ask you something?” he asked, tipping his glass to his lips and sipping the bubbly champagne.
“Sure.”
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“If I tell you, would you answer the question too?”
“Sure.”
“It’s been a while.” I thought about it for a few seconds. “Maybe thirteen or so months ago, when I was still with He Who Must—ah, my last ex, before I found out he cheated on me.”
“You make up the most amusing nicknames for your exes.”
“How about you?” I asked, lifting my glass to my lips. “When’s the last time you had sex?”
“Six months ago.”
My ears perked up. That was surprising. I assumed it would be much shorter. If he had said yesterday, I wouldn’t have been too surprised—though bothered. “With whom?”
“An ex of mine.”
“And why is she an ex?” I shouldn’t pry, but the words left my mouth before I could take it back. Embarrassed, I reached for my almost empty glass, but my date dragged it away from me first.
“You’ve had enough,” he said. He lifted his fork to take a bite of his food, paused, then slid the champagne bottle towards his side of the table too, probably thinking I might start chugging from it.
That was so unnecessary, and it hurt a little. I started to argue but remembered he was paying for everything. I bit the inside of my cheeks.
He considered his next words. “She wanted... something I couldn’t provide for her anymore.” He gestured behind me with his chin. “The starter is here.”
The food was amazing. Like the best thing I’d ever tasted although the portions were tiny. Mr. Asshole two ordered some water for me, and I grudgingly took a sip of the unflavored liquid to wash my food down.
“Do you like it?” His silky smooth voice caressed my ear.
I ate another spoonful of the dish. “Yeah, it’s really good.”
He hadn’t touched his food yet. “Mind if I take a photo of you? I want to start posting on Instagram.”
“Of me?” I asked, surprised. “Like a selfie together?”
“No, just you. Just pretend to be eating, and I’ll snap a photo.”
I did what he said. He took the photo and busied himself with his phone. To be honest, I was a little honored to be his first post. He must have really liked how I looked. That was a good confidence booster—and god, I needed one of those right now.
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I took out my phone to look at his Instagram profile. What the hell? He already had thirty followers. I clicked on his followers’ tab and saw at least ninety percent of them were females—good looking ones with high followers count. It must have been his profile picture, which was a headshot of him smiling with the sunset behind him—a huge improvement from the eyesore that was his Facebook profile picture.
I reloaded his profile, and there it was—me as his first official post. The description read ‘On a date with this stunning lady.’ No hashtags or anything.
“And I mean it.” I felt his hand on top of mine. “I wanted to tell you in the car this morning, but I didn’t have the guts.”
I didn’t know how to respond but just mumbling a simple thanks. I felt bad. His compliments did mean a lot, and I didn’t know how to answer them. No one, not even the dark lord, had ever been this forward with me. No one had held my hand on a date and told me I looked stunning. It made me feel good. Wanted.
I could really fall for this man, I thought as I watched him. That was a terrifying thought, and my brain should be sending me all kinds of warnings by now. But it didn’t, and what was this strange and warm feeling blooming deep in my chest?
Was it...
Happiness?
Chapter 15
The movie theater was pretty close, so we walked there. His hand was on my lower back as he steered me through the busy crowd.
The city thrummed with a high energy, and I hated it. I hated being under the spotlight.
People gave us double takes, ladies shot me stares, and a guy even winked at me. Why had I come to New York City when I very well knew how populated and busy it was? Why did I keep listening to my mother? She usually gave good advice, and most of them had always worked out. But right now, it felt like the worst decision in my life.
The worst was over once we reached the theater. It was packed full of people, but they were either busy with their own dates or focused on the trailers that played on large flat screens all around us.
Mr. Asshole two steered me towards the theater entrance and gave our tickets to the usher.
“Thank you,” I said, managing a smile at the usher as he waved us in. He looked surprised and smiled back.
“You should say your thank yous,” I told Mr. Asshole two. “Be polite.”
It was dark, but I could make out his frown. “I do say my please and thank yous.”
“No, you don’t,” I muttered. I didn’t know why it bothered me so much.
He sighed. “Please sit, Audrey.”
“There you go. Thank you.” I smiled, sitting. This particular movie theater had a couple section, and my date had booked us a couple’s seat. I briefly wondered who he would have brought along if I hadn’t come. But didn’t he mention he would go alone if I didn’t join him? Was he telling the truth?
“I forgot to buy popcorn. Do you want popcorn?”
“No, thank you.”
He sat down next to me, but a considerable distance away. “Do you want any drinks? Sodas or anything?”
“No, thank you.”
He grunted and focused his attention on the large screen. The movie hadn’t started yet. Trailers for other blockbusters were still playing.
The movie started, and I wished I had accepted the popcorn offer. As the movie progressed, my date shifted closer to me. Very slowly.
By the midpoint of the movie, he had his arm around me, and our thighs touched. Maybe it was the comforting heat of his body or his delicious scent, but strangely, I felt at ease, like this was what it should be, like this was what it meant to be.
He leaned in and inhaled. “You smell nice, by the way. I didn’t know Bright Crystal would smell this good.”
“Thanks.”
Were all my replies to his compliments going to be a simple ‘thanks’? I decided to add a little more. “I like how you smell too.”
I heard giggles and looked to my right, to the two teenagers sharing a couple’s seat too. They were staring at us with wide grins on their faces. My face heated up even more and I moved away from him, creating a barrier of air between us. My date straightened his spine, crossed his legs, and cleared his throat.
The movie was phenomenal, exceeding my expectations. It was long, though—three hours, but I loved every second of it.
The theater lights turned back on, and the room started clearing out. My date stayed with me as I waited for the post-credit scene, if there was one.
“Did you like it?” I asked him when we were back outside. I thanked him when he gave me a water bottle he had bought on our way out.
“Yeah. I loved Iron Man. He’s one of my role models.”
No surprise, I thought. Tony Stark is a little bit of an asshole himself.
“Where to now?” I asked him, giving him the water bottle back. He uncapped the bottle and drank from it too.
He looked at me, and I realized we were holding hands. When had that happened?
“Ice cream?”
MY DATE LOOKED UP AT the night sky. “One, I got into a lot of trouble in school. Two, I made a sex tape. Three, I peed in my pants during my first kiss.”
I licked my scoop of ice cream. I knew I had to try the banana curry flavor as soon as I set my eyes on it. It tasted weird but in a good way. We were sitting on the ground, our backs against a tall pine tree and our sights set on the romantic view in front of us: random strangers and cars speeding by.
I turned my attention to him. “Are we playing two truths and one lie?”
He frowned. “It’s two truths?”
I bit off a large chunk of my ice cream to contain my laughter as I watched him struggle to rethink his statements. Big mistake, I realized, as a sharp pain in my head made me groan.
“Okay. One, I am semi-fluent in French. Two, I got caught by a police officer having sex in the backseat of my car. Three, I crashed my car within twenty-four hours after driving it off from the dealership.”
“So the sex tape thing was a lie?”
He smiled. “Answer this one, Audrey.”
I mulled about it for a few moments. “The first one. You can’t speak French.”
“Tu as tort.”
“I’m guessing that I’m wrong.” I ignored the chill that went through me. A sex god who could also speak French? Cool off, Audrey!
“So which one was it?”
“The second one.” He licked his own cone. Mr. Asshole two had picked a simple vanilla flavor. “I’ve had sex in many weird places but never in a car. Your turn, but make it interesting. Dirty.”
“Hmm.” I gazed at the blades of grass tickling my ankle. They were still sore from wearing high heels, and I had kicked the damn things off before we sat down. “Okay. One, I once had a guy freak out and leave when we had sex during my period. Two, I gave a blowjob in an empty McDonald’s parking lot. Three, I was pregnant before.”
“That’s a good one.” He gazed at my eyes, trying to figure me out. How could his eyes be such a perfect blue?
“Three. I think it’s three.”
I gave him my most innocent face. “And why do you think that?”
“You’re careful. You wouldn’t have unprotected sex.”
“You’re right. Your turn. Make it dirtier.”
He exhaled through his nose, still looking at me. “One, I had sex with five different women in one night. Two, I fingered my date in a movie theatre and continued even though the couple beside us knew. Three, I received a blow job in an elevator and finished before we reached our floor.”
I laughed at the last one. That had to be the lie. But it could also be either one or two. It had to be one because that was disgusting, and he didn’t seem like the gross type. Not like Marcus.
“Here,” he said, handing me a napkin. I wasn’t eating fast enough, and my fingers were soaked with banana curry.
“Thank you.” I cleaned my fingers and took another bite of the ice cream. I take it back. The taste of banana curry wasn’t that great. The
few bites were okay-ish, but then...
“So which one of my three is the lie?” he prompted me.
“One,” I replied. “Definitely one.”
“It’s three. I don’t finish that fast.”
“You had sex with five women in one day?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment off my face.
“In one night. I was on a cruise ship. But that was a long time ago when I was crazy and wild.”
“That’s sick.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Not my proudest moment.”
We ate in silence, watching the world pass by. Almost every single person glanced at us as they walked past, but at least no one did a double take.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked, breaking the quiet.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“Sorry,” he said again, tossing his cone at a nearby bin. It went in smoothly. I finished mine.
“It’s whatever,” I said, shrugging it off. If he said he had changed, I was inclined to believe him.
He drew me in closer with one arm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hotly in my ear. And now I was turned on in the middle of the street.
“I forgive you.”
We were staring at the stars. The sky was mostly cloudy, but there were a few tiny twinkles spread out here and there.
He wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. I felt his fingers on my cheek, tracing over my cheekbone. I felt my hair being picked up and tucked behind an ear.
We stayed like that for a while. Him staring at me and me staring at the dark cloudy sky. I felt like I could drift off to sleep anytime soon until his voice snapped me out of my sleepiness.
“Ready to head back?”
“Yeah.”
He stood up, retrieved my high heels, came back, and helped me put them on. People passing by gave us double takes.
“You don’t have to do that, but thank you.”
“No problem.” He stood up again, dusted his pants and offered me a hand. I took it, giving him a genuine smile.
He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 16
“Thanks for everything tonight,” I told him, kicking off my high heels and allowing my feet to breathe. “I enjoyed it.”