THE BILLIONAIRE’S PLUS-SIZE BLIND DATE

Chapter 2

Elowen’s Pov

The next evening, I spent twenty minutes standing in front of my bedroom mirror, fighting with my dress and fighting with my own brain.

It was a deep green dress that wrapped around my waist, showing off every curve I had. I loved this dress. It made me feel like a queen. But as I grabbed my purse, my heart felt like a bouncing rubber ball inside my chest. I kept thinking about my ex-boyfriend’s face when he saw me in a outfit like this. I kept hearing his whisper: Are you sure you want to wear that? People will stare.

"Stop it, Elowen," I told my reflection out loud. "You look amazing. If Adrian Cole doesn't like it, he can go eat his dinner alone."

When I walked into the small Italian restaurant on Fifth Street, the warm smell of melting cheese and red tomato sauce hit my nose. The lights were low, and soft music was playing in the background. My eyes scanned the room, looking for a man sitting by himself.

And then I saw him at table seven.

My feet literally stopped moving. My breath caught in my throat.

He was sitting near the back, looking down at his paper menu. He wore a simple navy blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had dark hair, a sharp jaw, and the kind of handsome face you usually see on high-school movie posters. He looked so polished and neat that for a second, I thought I was in the wrong restaurant.

Oh no, I thought, a sudden wave of panic rushing through me. He’s way too handsome. Men like him always turn out to be the worst.

I wanted to turn around and walk right out the front door. But then he lifted his head. His eyes locked onto mine, and instead of looking bored or fake, his eyes went wide.

He immediately stood up from his chair. He didn't just sit there and wait for me to come to him like a prince expecting a prize. He stood up straight, pulled back the chair across from him, and offered me a warm, nervous smile.

"Elowen?" he asked. His voice was deep, soft, and surprisingly gentle.

"Adrian?" I asked, stepping closer to table seven.

"That's me," he said. He looked at my green dress, and for a split second, I held my breath, waiting for the weird smirk or the awkward look I knew all too well.

Instead, he just smiled softly. "You look really beautiful. I mean it. I was worried you might cancel on me."

I sat down, my heart doing a silly little flip. "Thank you. And why would I cancel? My grandmother threatened to move into my apartment if I didn't come tonight."

Adrian let out a soft laugh as he sat back down. "My grandmother's friend Beatrice said almost the same thing to me. She told me if I didn't show up, she would throw away all my favorite coffee cups."

I laughed, feeling the tight knot in my shoulders start to loosen up a little bit. "Okay, so we were both forced here under threat of mean old grandmothers. That makes me feel a lot better."

"Honestly, I was terrified," Adrian confessed, leaning his arms on the wooden table. "I haven't done this in a really long time. I usually hate dates. They always feel like a test or a job interview."

I raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by how honest he was being. Most guys I met spent the first ten minutes bragging about their cars or how many push-ups they could do. "A job interview? Well, Mr. Cole, did you bring your resume? Because I have a very strict grading system."

Adrian grinned, his eyes sparkling under the warm restaurant lights. "Please go easy on me. I really want to pass."

The waiter came by and took our order, and from that moment on, the night flew by like a fast dream. The awkwardness vanished completely. We didn't talk about silly stuff like the weather. Instead, we started arguing about food.

"I’m telling you, oysters are a scam," I said, pointing my fork at him playfully. "People only eat them to look cool and fancy. Nobody actually likes swallowing cold seawater!"

Adrian laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth with his napkin. "That is not true! Oysters are great! You just haven't had them at a good place."

"I don't care if they come from a gold bucket," I insisted with a giggle. "They look like slime. Give me a big bowl of cheesy pasta any day of the week. Expensive restaurants are overrated anyway. The best food always comes from tiny little places that look like they haven't been repainted since 1995."

"I agree with you on the pasta," Adrian admitted, watching me with a warm look in his eyes that made my skin tingle. "I actually love cooking at home. It’s the only time my brain stops running."

"You cook?" I asked, pretending to be shocked. "Now you're just making things up to impress me."

"I make a mean garlic lasagna," he said proudly. "I’ll prove it to you one day."

Just then, the waiter walked over and set a plate with two spoons between us. On the plate was a slice of chocolate cake covered in strawberry syrup.

"Um, excuse me," I said to the waiter. "We didn't order dessert yet."

"Oh! I am so sorry," the waiter said, turning red. "That was for table eight!"

"It's okay," Adrian said politely, but I couldn't stop myself from teasing him.

Once the waiter walked away, I looked at Adrian and narrowed my eyes playfully. "You know, Adrian, you have a very serious face when you're thinking. You look like a stern school principal. The poor waiter thought you were going to fire him!"

"I do not look like a principal!" Adrian argued, but he burst into a genuine, loud laugh that made a few people at other tables turn around to look at us.

It was such a loud, happy sound. My smile grew so wide my cheeks started to hurt. I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed this much with a man. He didn't look at his phone once. He didn't look around the room to see if anyone was watching us. He just looked at me, like I was the only person in the entire restaurant.

When the bill came, we both tried to grab it, but he beat me to it with a playful wink. After we paid, we walked out into the cool night air together. The street was quiet, illuminated by yellow streetlights.

Adrian stopped walking and turned to face me. He put his hands in his pockets, suddenly looking nervous again. "So... Elowen. Did I pass the test?"

I pretended to think about it, looking up at the dark sky. "Well, you don't like cheesy pasta enough, and you think oysters are real food. But... you made me laugh."

"Does that mean I get to see you again?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching my face hopefulness.

My stomach did a happy cartwheel, but my mind suddenly remembered the painful past. The smile faded a little bit from my lips as I looked straight into his brown eyes.

"I have one rule, Adrian," I said, my voice serious and sharp. "I am a loud, curvy, confident woman. I love who I am. I will never, ever be with a man who is embarrassed to hold my hand in public or act like he's ashamed to be seen with me."

Adrian’s face went completely still. The softness in his eyes deepened, full of something gentle and dark. He took one step closer to me, reaching out to softly touch my hand.

"Elowen," he whispered softly, his fingers warm against mine. "I would be proud to walk beside you anywhere in the world. I promise you that."

Hearing those words made my heart flutter, but as I smiled back at him, I had no idea about the giant lie he was hiding behind those honest eyes.