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I push on the buzzer, and a sweet female voice comes over the speaker.
“Hello.”
“Hello, It’s Tyler Harris. May I come up?”
“Sure.” I hear the door beside me buzz, and I open it.
I walk up to her apartment and knock on the door. When it opens, a woman, who I assume is Poppy, pokes her head out from behind.
“Hi,” she says, her voice high-pitched like she forgot I was coming.
“Hello, Ms. Davenport. I’m Tyler. I’m here to take you to dinner.”
Her doe eyes are wide she slides from behind the door, showing me her full frame. She’s on the shorter side with wavy dark brown hair and round pink glasses. Her makeup is minimal, and she’s wearing a pastel pink dress with a V-neck that flares out from her hips and hits just above the knees.
She’s breathtaking.
It’s silent for a moment, then she clears her throat and steps back, letting me in. I hand her the bouquet of flowers, and she smiles as she smells them.
“They’re gorgeous,” she remarks and pulls a vase from the cabinet under the sink.
“Thanks. I figured, you know, your name is Poppy, so I should get you a bouquet of Poppies.”
She laughs, and my heart flutters.
Fuck, she’s so adorable it’s almost painful. And I’ve only been in her presence for three minutes. I’ve never felt this way toward one of my dates before. I tend to keep my heart out of it for safety, and yet if Poppy were to ask me for it, I’d put it on a silver platter at her feet.
I rub the back of my neck, and I try to calm down. Ineedto calm down. This is just a date for her. It’s a nice outing with a dirty ending.
Get it together, Harris.
“So, what’s this restaurant like? I’ve never been to it before,” Poppy asks as she places the vase on a table.
“It’s pretty nice. About five minutes from here. It’s cozy and quiet with a live band that plays mostly jazz music.”
I was told by Cassandra that she has a more introverted personality. She likes it small and quiet, so Adrian’s Place seemed perfect. Cassandra picks the best choices for restaurants.
“Well, I guess we should get going.” I help Poppy into her coat, and I get a smell of her perfume. Or maybe it’s her shampoo. Whatever it is, it smells divine, and her hair looks so soft. My hand twitches to touch her, so I curl it into a fist and shove it into my pocket.
I wait for her outside as she locks her door, and we walk down the stairs to my car. It’s not too cold, but the breeze is a bit chilly. I open the car door for my lady, and she gets in, giving me a quick thank you.
The drive is pretty silent. Poppy is wringing her fingers together, and my hands twitch on the steering wheel. I want so badly to reach over to her and calm her. So I do. I cover her hands with mine and run my thumb over her finger.
“No need to be nervous, Poppy. Everything is going to be okay.”
She chuckles nervously. “I know. This is new for me, and I don’t go out much. Work is basically the only reason I step outside. And plus, I’ve never paid someone to hang out with me before.”
She lets me hold her hand through the whole drive, and I keep running my thumb over her soft skin.
All things considered, I think she’s doing a good job. I don’t tend to get many nervous clients. Mostly because they’ve done this before. I’m not their first. But there’s a sense of pride in my chest thinking about how Poppy’s getting out of her comfort zone to connect.
I hope I don’t disappoint her.
We pull up to the restaurant and put the car in the car park. Then we walk hand in hand to the front door. As soon as we walk in, the smell of delicious food hits us. There is a very warm tone to the place. Dim lighting and candles in the middle of tables. There is brick everywhere. Brick walls, ceiling, and floor.
“Table for two, please,” I say to the hostess.
“Of course. Do you have a reservation?” the cheery woman asks.
