The Charade of Us

Freya arrives at the restaurant a little late. The place is something that is rated with five dollar signs on the Internet. However, it is difficult to find. The waiter greets her with a pleasant smile. "Are you with someone, miss?" She grins. A young, handsome waiter notices that and raises one eyebrow. "Would rather be somewhere else?" She laughs. Loudly and awkwardly. I wish he was my date. "You have no idea." She looks around the room. Red carpet on the floor, lean, tall waitresses dressed in white shirts and black bottoms. Smells of seafood and expensive, sour wine. "I'm here for a blind date. I told you were informed." She kicks an imaginary rock with the side of her black shinny heel. The waiter immediately bows to her and points forward with a hand holding a golden menu. "This way, miss." "You don't need to..." Freya obediently follows. "Doesn't matter" she adds, seeing the waiter ready to protest. Her thoughts begin to spiral. Mother meant well, perhaps... Or still hasn't recovered from the disgrace I have caused. I knew I was on the losing side of love's battlefield. But the blind date? Really? She quickly took her phone out of the bag and was about to text Lena, her best friend, who had some Slavic courage and would call and cause a desperate scene to get her out of there. But as she starts typing, the waiter suddenly stops by a table and points to a broad-shouldered man sitting on one of two chairs. "Well, this is unfortunate..." He says in a deep voice, pretending that the menu in front of him is way more interesting to look at. Then he raises his dark brown eyes and scans her body up and down. Freya immediately feels see-through and regrets putting on such a tight black dress. And heels. What was I thinking? "You are my blind date?!" She almost shouts after returning to the moment. "My mom would never set me up with... you." With her emotionless ex-manager, that is probably operated by AI. He fixes his shirt collar and says with a dry tone "Trust me, I tried to leave the second I saw your blonde head awkwardly chatting with the waiter boy. But my family threatened to kick me out to one of these all-inclusive Turkish resorts if I didn’t at least pretend to have a social life." The waiter smirked, and we both glanced coldly at him. He excuses himself until we settle in. "So what's your excuse for actually staying?" Freya presses while setting her handbag on the chair. "I presume gentleman will not help me." She says to herself while loudly pushing the chair closer to the table. "I heard that." He says again, focusing on the menu. "I stayed out of morbid curiosity. And the wine list." The music in the restaurant changes into a slower and more intimate tune. Freya could have sworn that even the lights had dimmed a bit. "Show me that" She snatches the wine menu from his tanned hand. She runs through it and throws the menu back on the table. She flushes, realizing there isn’t a single wine on the list she can pronounce without risking Isaac making fun of her. After that, silence surrounds them. Freya leans back, anxiously tapping the table with her fingers. She pretends that the flowers in the middle are the most intriguing objects in the world. However, she still accidentally catches his sight. Isaac watches her silently, without a single emotion on his face. That makes her even more uncomfortable. Finally, a waitress arrives. Put me out of my misery, please. She begs in her mind. "Lovely to see such a beautiful couple out tonight! How long have you two been together?" the tall brunette enthusiastically asks. "We..." Freya starts but gets interrupted by a cold voice. "Oh ages, feels like a lifetime." He crosses his arms "Been through plague, wars, nearly two divorces." Freya's fake smile leaves her face immediately. She desperately tries to pull her dress back in place and looks down, inspecting her bare leg. Isaac catches her eyes, but she quickly comes back to her new "interest". The waitress smiles even wider and asks if she could take their order. Then promises to get their wine ready in a moment. Freya feels relieved that he pronounced wine's name for her. At least one embarrassment was avoided. "Seems you know your wine." She clears her throat. "And you are surprisingly funny when you are suffering." She says without an idea if that was a compliment, or an attempt to hide her anxious state. He doesn't even smile at her words. She fixes her dress once again. Silence sets around until the waitress is back with tall, shining glasses of red. Freya takes a generous sip and sets it down. "Good wine." She says. Silence. "I like red, even if it leaves your mouth dry." Isaac lets out a sigh. "You don't have to talk so much, you know." Freya blushes a little. "I don't like awkward silence." He checks his watch. "Listen, we can leave now, but..." She starts "But my parents and yours will probably set up another date for us immediately." Now Isaac finally looks at her again. "Yeah, probably." "So, we can suffer this entire date or..." "Or we could make this interesting" he finishes her sentence. Well, I meant less awkward, but interesting will do. "I'm all ears." She tries to smile sincerely. "One dinner. Fake smiles. We both report back that it went great. Then we move on with our lives." "Are you proposing an alliance?" "Temporary ceasefire." He smiles with only the corners of his lips. Freya drinks more wine. This could do. She nods in agreement. "Lies, manipulation, deception, that could make a good trial lawyer." She finally says. He laughs. "I will make sure to put it on my LinkedIn," he says while they cling glasses, sealing a deal. Food arrives, so instead of thinking about what to say next, they can pretend to be busy with eating. Freya devours her lobster. It tastes light and well-seasoned. After half of the food is finished, curiosity gets the better of her. "Do you miss working in court? I heard you were a decent lawyer before you created the firm." "Only a decent? Is that what you think of your boss?" He smirks. "Technically, you are not my direct boss." She reminds. "I changed to trial law because of... conflict of interest." "Yeah, I approved your case." He takes a glass, looking at her. "Couldn't lose two lawyers at once." "Well doesn't matter now." She abruptly says. "And I grew on trial. I guess business law was not for me." "So what do you do for fun, when you are not approving marriage certificates." She tries to sound as careless as possible. The waitress comes to fill up their glasses and Isaac instructs her to leave the bottle here. "You assume I have fun?" He laughs. "This is the worst response!" She says loudly, then looks around if anyone is staring yet. "Fine. I run. Also box. And sometimes even read books that aren't legal briefs." "Boxing, huh? Well, that makes sense. You do have that masculine ‘I settle things with fists if necessary’ energy." Freya leans in intrigued. She did not notice when he managed to get his tie loose and even unbutton one button of his white shirt. "Either that or stress will kill me before I turn forty." He fills her glass. "And what about you?" "The usual. Ruining bad men's lives in court. Mild existential dread... And oh, I like rock climbing." "Haha, you climbing?" He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "Well what can I say - I can cling on to things I want to?" Freya laughs, shaking her blonde curtain bangs away from her forehead. "I believe it, when I see it." He says watching closely. Freya stops and meets his eyes. "I'll prove it if you aren't afraid of heights Mr. Boss." The last word slipped her lips before she could catch it. She instantly covers her mouth feeling her cheeks burning. "I mean, Mr. Ashford, "I'm fine with Isaac." He says, "Or Mr. Boss, if you insist." She narrows her eyes at him, but there’s amusement there. From there, conversation flows a lot easier now. It’s still a game —yet something about it feels different. More natural. Less forced. The waitress brings in dessert - a shared lava cake with beautifully cut-out strawberries on top and gold sprinkles. Informs, that for the lovely couple - dessert is on the house. Freya reaches for one of the spoons at the same time as Isaac and their fingers brush each other in the middle of the table. A moment of surprise crosses both of their faces. "Careful. Keep looking at me like that, and people will think we’re enjoying this." He teases. Freya rolls her eyes but doesn't move her hand immediately. "Oh, Imagine the horror." A smirk spreads across his face. The tension thickens for a bit and Freya pulls back and clears her throat, breaking the spell. They start eating their complimentary cake in silence, but something in the air has shifted.