The Date
1497 Words
The smell of coffee and fresh pastries greets me as I walk downstairs for breakfast. I see everyone already seated. Frances sits, scrolling through her phone, already dressed for the day in tailored slacks and a crisp white blouse.
My mother is seated at the head of the table, a vision of elegance in her Ivory silk robe, and hair swept into a perfect twist. A cup of coffee in hand. I, on the other hand, am still just waking up.
”Look who is up early.” She mouths ”Bedbugs?”
Not impressed, I settle into my sit on the long marble table.
”Good morning mom.” I say.
”Must be really good since you decided to join us today.” Evelyn responds not even looking my way. She's practically flipping through a fashion magazine, only pausing to sip from her mimosa.
The morning light spills in through the floor to ceiling windows, catching on the fine china and polished silverware.
Becky sets a plate of fresh croissants in front of me, and I murmur a quiet thanks before reaching for my coffee.
Mother eyes me over the rim of her teacup. “You’re up early.”
I take a slow sip. “It’s almost ten.”
“Exactly.”
Evelyn smirks. “Big day, Dora?”
I pause mid-bite. “Not particularly.”
Frances lifts a brow. “Really? A private dinner with your fiancé isn’t significant?”
I shoot her a look. “It’s not a date.”
Evelyn hums, unconvinced. “A dress was sent and I'm certain a ride will be sent. Sounds like a date to me.”
Mother sets down her cup with a quiet clink. “Well, you should look presentable at least.”
I almost roll my eyes. She simply means "don't embarrass me."
I exhale through my nose. “I wasn’t planning to show up in sweats.”
Frances, ever the diplomat, stares at me, folding her hands neatly. “I’ll help you get ready.”
Evelyn raises a brow. “Since when do you play stylist?”
Frances shrugs. “Since she’s clearly not in the mood to do it herself.”
I narrow my eyes at her, but she’s right.
Mother dabs at her lips with a linen napkin. “Good. You represent this family, Dora. And Ted Lawson. Well, he doesn’t strike me as the type to tolerate mediocrity.”
I don’t know why that irritates me, but it does.
Finishing my coffee, I push back my chair. “I’m going to regret this entire day.”
Evelyn smirks. “Absolutely.”
Hours laters, I'm seated in front of my vanity, and Frances is ruthless.
She assesses me like a sculptor evaluating a block of marble. “Your hair needs soft waves.”
I sigh, resigned. “Fine.”
She works efficiently, her fingers twisting and curling sections of my dark hair until they fall in loose waves around my shoulders. When she’s done, she pins back one side with a delicate silver clip.
“Makeup next.”
I groan. “I’m not going full glam.”
Frances gives me a look. “I know that. Something polished and effortless.”
Yes, she truly knows me.
And she really keeps it simple. By the time she finishes up, my skin looks flawless. A touch of blush, soft brown liner that define my eyes, and a neutral lip.
When I step into the deep midnight blue Valentino crepe dress Ted had sent, I have to admit....its stunning. The way it fits, absolutely gorgeous.
Frances steps back, inspecting her work. “Ted Lawson won’t know what hit him.”
I snort. “Good.”
Not long after, Mrs Bryson knocks on my door to tell me my ride awaits. She pauses, taking in my appearance before gushing, “Miss Dora, you look stunning.”
Frances smirks. “Your carriage awaits.”
There's a black sedan waiting just in front of the house. The driver, polite and professional, and holds the door open for me and I slide into the plush leather seat.
As we pull away from the house, I glance out the window, watching the city blur past. I feel… off, like I’m walking into something I haven’t fully prepared for.
I don’t like being uncertain. And Ted Lawson? He’s a walking question mark.
The car slows as we approach an exclusive restaurant perched on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. I'm led up to the rooftop. The air blows softly on my skin. I take in the scene before, the view breathtaking. There's just one table set up just in the center and I see him, already seated.
Of course.
He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit with no tie. The top button is undone just enough to make it infuriatingly effortless. He stands as I approach, his gaze sweeping over me.
Something flickers in his expression. Approval? Amusement? I can’t tell.
“Dora.”
I arch a brow. “Ted.”
I settle into my seat, crossing my legs. He watches me, then sits too.
The ocean stretches endlessly beyond, waves crashing softly against the cliffs below.
“I see the dress fits perfectly.” He says eyeing me, his voice smooth and unreadable.
He picks up the menu, handing one to me.
I tilt my head. “Was there ever a doubt?”
His lips curve slightly. “No.”
The waiter returns, and we place our orders.
He pours carefully into crystal glasses from a bottle of wine he was having before I got here and offers me one. I take a sip, waiting.
”I must say, this came as a surprise." I say "What's with the date."
Ted sets his glass down. “My parents want to announce the engagement.”
I freeze, glass hovering near my lips. “Excuse me?”
“They want to make it public.”
I set my glass down. “I guess this was going to happen anyway but.... I'm just not ready. It's too soon”
He leans back.”You would have to be at some point." He says nonchalantly.
”When?”
”Should be in tomorrows morning papers.”
"You must really be having fun with this." I say. Trying to keep my face neutral.
”Well, this is me being helpful. You do realize your mother is aware of this right?"
I certainly believe that. There's just no way she wouldn't have known. I mean she signed the contract didn't she.
I stare blankly at him and in this moment I realize the rumors were true.
I blink. “Don't you get it? You may have known about this arrangement for the longest time. But me? I just found out and now this?”
He smirks, looking at me like I amused him. “Would you prefer an apology?”
“I’d prefer notice.” His smirk fades.
Silence stretches between us. He’s unbothered. I, on the other hand, am resisting the urge to throw my wine at him.
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card, sliding it across the table.
I glance down. It’s a business card. His name and number.
I frown. “What is this?”
“My card.”He replies smartly.
”Yeah, because I didn't know that.” I say with an eye roll.
He studies me. And again I can't tell if it's amusement in his eyes.
”It's my number. If you're going to be my wife you should have it."
I stare at it. “You could’ve just… told me.”
“I could have.”
I glance up at him. His face is set in a frown, but his gaze is steady, almost entertained.
He’s testing me.
Our food arrives just in time and I exhale, pocketing the card. “Fine.”
I stare at my honey garlic lamb cutlets and dig in.
We eat silently, no one saying anything to the other. It's an awkward silence that I prefer. It's better than talking to an arrogant man.
By the time our plates are cleared, the tension between us has settled. Ted walks me back to the car silently. The driver holds open the door again and I slide in.
As the car rolls away, I can't help but look behind at where he stood. He still stood there staring at the retreating vehicle and soon he faded in the night.
Back home, I drop onto my bed, exhausted and yes, my sisters are waiting.
They follow me up to my room. Evelyn leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Well?”
I toss the card onto my nightstand. “He gave me his number.”
Frances lifts a brow. “On a card?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn grins. “Oh, I like him.”
I groan, burying my face in a pillow.
I hate that I’m willing to play this game too.
- Writer
