I nod as my eyes hold his. He has no idea how much it means to me that he remembered what I told him.
“You’re playing along with my lifeline?” I whisper.
His eyes hold mine. “Maybe it’s my lifeline, too.”
I stare at him as a clusterfuck of emotions whirl around me like a tornado.
“Asking my dad if you can take me on a date is your lifeline?” I whisper.
“Taking you on a normal date is,” he answers as his eyes search mine. He’s genuinely nervous. Maybe he thinks I’m going to say no.
“Seven sounds wonderful.”
He smiles. “I’m staying downstairs on the next level.”
I smile. He even booked a room for himself.
He stands awkwardly in front of me. “I will…” He pauses as if not knowing what to say next. “I will see you at seven then?”
I nod through my smirk. He turns and walks up the hall and I watch him. The elevator doors open and he disappears, looking very pleased with himself.
Holy shit!
I jump up and down on the spot. He asked me on a date, he asked me on a date. I run into my room and punch the air. Oh my God, what am I going to wear?
I have to look good.
Irresistibly good.
I open the closet and find the two date dresses that we bought today. Damn it… I wasn’t even paying attention to them when we bought them, I was too distracted by my Top Gun fantasies. I pull out the one that was his favorite-a flowing, backless, ice-pink number. It has shoestring straps and a cowl neckline that dips low into the back. I can’t wear a bra with it.
If I’d have known I was actually going to get this date I would have paid more attention to his choices and maybe picked something better. I slip it on and look at myself in the mirror. I turn to check out my behind. Butterflies flutter in my stomach and I smile broadly. I pick up the phone and ring reception.
“Hello, reception,” they answer.
“Yes, hello.” I smile. “It’s Mrs. Williams from 1204.”
“Hello, how can we help you?”
“Is your general store still open?” I ask.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Would I be able to get a razor and a hairdryer brought up to my room, please?”
“Of course.”
I glance down at my toes. “Oh, and… and some nail polish,” I stammer. I don’t think I have painted my nails since prom.
“Of course, Mrs. Williams. Which color?”
I shrug. “A natural pink, or a color not too bright if you have it. Just something pretty and feminine.”
“Okay, we can do that.”
I smile broadly. “Can I also have a toasted sandwich?” I am starving already and I don’t want to look like a pig on my date. I fumble around with the menu. “Um.” I scan the choices. “A club sandwich, if that’s okay?”
“Yes, no problem. That will be about ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” I hang up, and with a twirl of happiness I flop onto the bed.
* * *
I stand in the mirror and look at my reflection. He was right, this pretty pink dress is amazing, although something that I would have never picked for myself. It’s feminine and yet sexy. I have nude, strappy stilettos on and I’m pimped to the nines. My long, dark hair is straightened and I have smoky eye makeup with pink glossy lips. My fingers and toenails are manicured and painted.
I look good, I know I look good… but then that could just be because I looked like total shit for the last two weeks. Who could tell?
The only thing missing is perfume, but Stace picked my deodorant so I guess that will have to do. I sniff my underarms and shrug. Smells okay, I suppose. He seemed to like it.
I stare at my reflection.
This is it. Unlike any date I have ever been on before, there are no preconceived ideas. I know for certain that I will never see him again after tonight. Butterflies rise in my stomach. Maybe that’s why it feels so important.
This is all we have.
This night is all we will ever have. I want to make it good for him.
I close my eyes as reality sets in.
I desperately want my memory of him to be happy and good, because that’s what I feel he could have been if he hadn’t got…
I cut myself off. Stop it, you idiot.
He is a criminal and you have one night. Stop thinking, stop fucking feeling, and look at it for what it really is.
My thoughts are interrupted by his knock on the door. I put my hand on my stomach to calm my nerves and take one last look in the mirror.
Go time.
I open the door and there he stands, six foot four in a navy dinner suit and dress shoes. His sandy curls are styled, and he is clean-shaven. My eyebrows rise by themselves as I inhale his heavenly scent.
He wore a suit. Oh my God, he wore a suit.
He must have gone out and bought it after we organized our date. The night is perfect already.
“Hello.” He smirks.
I smile broadly. “Hello.” The electricity zaps between us.
His eyes drop down my body. “You look beautiful,” he whispers.
My poor heart won’t be able to bear much of this, and unable to speak, I smile goofily. He makes me giddy.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks.
I smile and grab my bag and he leads me out into the corridor.
* * *
The restaurant is dark and moody with candlelit tables. We are seated in the alfresco area in the courtyard that sits between two tall buildings. Fairy lights are hanging diagonally above us from building to building creating a romantic canopy. Large plants in pots are surrounding the border. We held hands as we walked all the way here, deep in discussion about our surroundings. It seems Stace is quite the Google traveler and could tell me all about the scenery and buildings as we passed them. Salsa music is piping throughout the space and the crowd are all late twenties and above. Loud, relaxed chatter echoes all around.
“Thank you.” I smile to the waiter as he fills my glass with champagne. He then fills Stace’s.
I hold my glass up. “A toast.”
He brings his glass up to meet mine.
“To new beginnings.”
He smiles. “To new beginnings,” he repeats
We both take a sip.
“So what do you think of Bogota?” he asks.
“It’s gorgeous.” I can’t hide my surprise. “I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”
“I thought this would be better for you than in Columbia itself. It seemed safer and easier for you to get your bearings.”
I smile softly as I imagine him Googling places to drop me off. “My safety isn’t your concern, but thank you.” I sip my champagne. “This is so good.” I hold my glass up to him.
“Hmm, yes it is,” he replies as he eyes the bubbling liquid in his glass.
“So you bought a suit for me?” I smirk.
He smiles bashfully. “I did.”
Our eyes are locked on each other. “It looks really good,” I whisper.
“I had to try and match my beautiful date. I had an advantage. I already knew what she was wearing.”
His beautiful date.
Oh, my.
“Well, you haven’t had a date in six years.” I smirk cheekily.
He laughs. “You caught that, did you?”
I smile. “Yes, I caught that.” I take a sip. “Why haven’t you taken a woman on a date for six years?”
He shrugs and rearranges his napkin on his lap. “I don’t know. Things haven’t gone as planned, I suppose.”
“What were the plans?”
He licks the champagne from his bottom lip and I feel my insides clench. “I just…” He hesitates as he thinks. “I just always imagined I would meet the right person and everything else would fall into place.”
“The right person?” I ask.