His smirk bore through me, but I couldn't be mad. I bolted to my bedroom and opened the box. There, among soft ivory tissue paper, was a stunning red dress; it had a low neckline and delicate straps around my shoulders that faded into the thin fabric. I couldn't believe a man chose this for me. The fabric caressed my body like a glove.
I slid the elastic from my hair and let it tumble down my back. Sun-bleached strands of honey-blonde hair fell into its natural curls, cascading over my neck and shoulders.
When I stepped out of my bedroom, Alexander's gaze settled on me. His mouth opened slightly, and his eyes widened, as if he was looking at me with newfound admiration. A thrill ran through me, starting in my toes and racing up to my cheeks. Embarrassed, I stifled a chuckle before quickly covering my mouth.
“Ella, you look stunning. That dress compliments you perfectly,” he said, looking me up and down.
As he grabbed my hand, warmth filled my chest as he guided me to his car. I hadn't worn anything this nice in so long, and the way it felt against me was a good king of foreign. When he opened the car door for me, I climbed in, the leather seats soft against my skin. He switched on the ignition and his hand traveled from the steering wheel to my thigh. His touch left atrail of heat that left something inside of me stirring. For the first time in years, I felt alive.
The streets of New York City glittered with life, and people bustled around with their shopping bags full of designer goods. I could feel my stomach lurch as we passed restaurant after restaurant that served platters of food with prices that far exceeded my budget. Everywhere I looked, people wore wealthy attire, and the glitzy storefronts carried items I could never afford.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice wavering.
He cast a sidelong glance in my direction and replied, “The White Camino.”
I’d heard they served up some of the best eats in town but hadn't expected such an extravagant outing - the price of an appetizer alone was enough to make me feel faint. I felt a wave of panic wash over me; this was definitely not my kind of place and I wasn’t sure I could live up to its opulent expectations.
The car pulled up to the curb and he shut off the engine. He stepped out, came around to my side to open the door and offered his hand. I stepped out and he handed the keys to the valet attendant with a nod of his head.
We crossed the threshold of the grand lobby, his arm linked snugly with mine while heads turned and eyes watched our every move.
“I’m not sure I fit in here,” I whispered.
“Believe me, you do. Everyone is gawking at you.”
The host led us through the restaurant, past the clusters of people chatting and laughing, to the corner table that had been prepped for us. I tried to keep a grip on my nerves as I took in the romantic setting: the dim lights flickering from the candles, the faint strains of music in the background, and the gentle murmur of conversations. My palms were damp with sweat as I realized I hadn't been on a proper date in four years.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he said.
“What do you want to know?” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and met his gaze.
“Have you always been in the hospitality industry?”
“God, no,” she said, her voice full of sorrow. “I worked at a small office for ten years as the office manager until it shut down. I never would have left willingly. The pay was great, and I felt so secure there. The job was always so easy.” She paused and looked at him, a glint of determination in her eye. “But the recession caused me to be laid off, so now I'm here working for the hotel. What made you decide to join this place?” he asked.
My throat felt dry, wanting to tell him the truth—that I only took the job because it was the only one that would hire me. I knew my current salary would barely cover my bills, but I had no choice. I had to take the job to pay my mortgage and survive.
I felt my face flush as I nervously said, “I needed a job to pay my bills.” I caught myself chuckling at my own words—words that seemed so condescending coming from my mouth. Time to change the subject. "Have you ever been married?"
He looked at me with a discerning gaze. "I've never been married. And no kids."
I was surprised to find a single man of our age that had no romantic attachments. He was good looking so why did he remain alone? I wondered if he was so choosy in his selection of partners that he had yet to find one that met his exacting standards, or if others simply weren’t able to keep up with him.
"Have you always lived in New York?"
This date was already going better than my one last night. Alexander was keeping up with the conversation and hadn't looked at his phone once. It seemed like he truly wanted to get to know me. How refreshing.
“Yes, my uncle left me his house. I never really did like the city, but he did. He loved the tall buildings and stuff to do. Ithink he left me the house so that I would stay. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to move somewhere else yet. One day, though, it’ll happen. Mark my words.”
We continued chatting through dinner until it was time to leave. We got into the car, and again he placed his right hand on my thigh. There was that burning sensation again. Nope, not happening.
The car rolled to a stop in front of my house, and I nervously fiddled with the car door handle. He came around and opened the door for me, his eyes searching mine. Taking my hand in his, we walked up to my front door, and I knew what was about to occur.
“I had a really nice time tonight. I’m glad to see you did too. You’re a fascinating woman, Ella. I would love to see you again. Hopefully that’s okay with you.”
As he finished his sentence, he moved in closer, his green eyes locked on mine. His hand slowly reached for my face, and with a delicate touch, he moved a strand of hair out of my face. His lips met mine in a sweet yet passionate kiss that made me want to stay in the moment forever. When he finally pulled away, my heart was racing.
“Yes,” I replied quietly.