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She nods towards the flowers. “Three dozen roses is a little overkill.”
I detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. “I wanted to make a good impression.”
“I see that.” She picks up the card again, dragging her fingers over the edges of it before sliding it into her purse.
“How’d I do?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she says before she shrugs. “But the night is still young.”
I haven’t been on a ton of first dates in my life. I have only ever dated one guy seriously and we were together for my first three years of college. Since then, I wouldn’t necessarily say I’ve dated so much as I’ve met guys for a drink or at a party and then waited to see where the night took us. But of all the dates I’ve been on, Chris shot all of them out of the water. From one date, I could see he only knew how to do things one way and that was ‘the best.’
We are standing in front of the restaurant when a black BMW with tinted windows slows to a stop in front of us.
“I have a car to take you home.”
“I drove here,” I tell him, blinking at him several times.
“And you had a Manhattan and a glass of champagne.”
I sigh. “Right. You have seen how much I can drink though. You can’t possibly think those two drinks over the span of four hours could possibly affect my ability to drive home.”
“Humor me. I know you won’t let me take you home, but at least let me make sure you get home safely.”
“What about my car?”
“It’ll be there shortly after you.”
“Chris—”
He slides his hands into his pockets and I make yet another mental note of how good he looks. He really knew how to wear the hell out of a suit. “Don’t give me a hard time, alright? You said you wanted a gentleman. This is me on my best behavior.”
“What if I wanted to see you not on your best behavior?” I tease and though his eyes darken and drag down my body, he shakes his head and opens the back door of the car. I’ll admit I’m impressed by his restraint.
After our conversation, he surprisingly kept things pretty PG at dinner. He held my hand a few times and there was one brush of his knuckles down my face that had me almost melting into a puddle, but he didn’t push for more. If I’d had another drink, I may have but I’d put boundaries in place and he respected them.
And dammit, if that didn’t make me want him more.
He shakes his head slowly, with a smug grin on his face like he’s enjoying this. “You said only dinner.”
“Fine.” I move to stand in front of the open door and a part of me hopes he’ll attempt to kiss me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Right. Yes.” I nod but don’t get in the car. Smooth, Marissa.
He looks towards the backseat and then back at me. “Is there…something else?” he asks with a knowing smirk and I hate that I’m being so obvious.
“Nope,” I say before I tap his nose gently. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Pleasure was all mine,” he says as I slide in and he closes the door behind me. He taps the window gently with one knuckle and when I roll it down, he leans down so we’re at eye level. “So, when can I see you again?”
I look at the driver and a part of me wonders if he knows that Chris is married and that I am most definitely not his wife. I wonder if he’s the loyal driver who knows where all the bodies are buried. I turn back to Chris and flash him my most flirty smile, just as I send the window back up. “Tomorrow at work, obviously,” I say just before it hits the top.
I’ve only been home about twenty minutes when my phone lights up with a message.
Chris: Thank you for tonight. Did you make it home?
You know I did. I giggle to myself thinking about the fact that his driver probably had strict instructions to let him know the second I was through my door. My car arrived a few minutes later.
