Chapter 8 : Date Squared
Meeting days were my least favorite days. We weren’t allowed to do them through call but had to personally come into the office to discuss the book, the progress, and all the other little things that went into getting published.
I was behind by a lot, so not only did my contract have to be revised, but I had to show proof that the next book was making progress, which meant going over every little thing that I managed to have for it.
I had to explain so many times what the plot would be and finish up the outline in the moment. It was rough, both the meetings and the outline itself, but I was happy with how it turned out, and relieved I could finally go back home.
Andre had been ready to murder me until I came in with proof I was making progress. Yet, he still scolded me for procrastinating so badly. I was glad I hadn’t ruined his good faith by having nothing to show for it.
That first date really was really an inspiration and I hoped my other dates would be just as pleasant.
The moment I stepped back into my apartment, I sat down on the couch and was out cold in minutes, with the exhaustion of human interaction and work getting to me.
I woke up late, which I wasn’t surprised about seeing as it had taken till midnight for all my meetings to finish. However, it still left me a bit disoriented, waking up with a crick in my neck and crusty eyes.
Today was the day I’d have my second date with mystery man number two—the humanitarian, if I remembered correctly.
That was admittedly not much to go off of and I was starting to get curious about the descriptor words on my profile. But then again, I got Luke Owens as my first match. Anything was possible at this point.
As long as it wasn’t like, the Prince of England, I think I’d be fine…Hopefully. Probably.
Still, the date was in the evening, and I had some time to get ready before that and psyche myself up. I needed it.
Despite how long I slept, I was still feeling the effects of the back-to-back meetings for the past couple of days. Mentally, I was tired, and my body was sore, but I knew laying down on the couch was going to do anything else for me, so I crawled out of the throw cushions and dragged myself to the bathroom where I started to fill the tub.
A nice, hot and relaxing bath would do me some good. If this date went wrong I’d probably be crying in the shower, so I might as well enjoy the water now.
This time, the date wouldn’t be in the Lush House but at one of the private restaurants they were partnered with.
Apparently catering to so many big names meant they had connections everywhere, so I’d be meeting my next date at a private booth where staff who had signed strict confidentiality contracts would be our servers.
I was equal parts nervous and excited. While it would’ve been nice to explore more of the Lush House, there’d be plenty of opportunities to do so later.
The restaurant was currently the highlight for my anticipation, and right now, meeting a possible partner was just a bonus.
I couldn’t help it! Meeting a stranger just left me a bit nervous and who knew if I’d get lucky and get someone as nice and charming as Luke again.
With my past luck, too, I was a bit worried. Rob and I were a good couple. Hell, we were great together. It was fast and fun with never a dull moment—and that was the ultimate problem.
All that fun meant there was never a serious second, and when I tried to have one, it was often brushed off until things just collapsed on themselves.
The argument that caused our breakup was bad, so maybe I was a bit scared about things going well.
No, I couldn’t think like that anymore. I needed to buck up! That’s what the whole experience was for, and I reminded myself I could always end things if I felt like they were going too fast, or too far south.
With that thought, I slipped into the bath, sighing in relief as the tension in my shoulders and back started to loosen. I picked up one of the shower markers Vera had gotten me as a gag gift, writing down a note for a scene that came to me.
Jokes on her; some of my best thoughts happened in the shower. But right now, I really wanted to stop thinking about work and just relax.
The restaurant I’d be going to later was a three-star Michelin restaurant that specialized in Japanese food. It was the kind of place where you dropped a couple hundred on dinner for a single person at the cheapest—and the ticket covered it.
I really needed to set up a girl’s day and question River about just how much the Golden Ticket had cost. It felt a little too much to be a birthday present, and my guilt was starting to eat me alive, wondering just how much she dropped on it.
After my bath, I had to pick through my closet again to find an outfit that would fit the mood. If I was going to go on more dates, I’d need a bit more than suits and loungewear.
A dark purple dress with a cropped suit jacket would be my outfit for tonight’s dinner, along with a pair of black heels. A bit more formal than I’d usually wear, but the restaurant was high class enough that I don’t think I’d be out of place wearing it.
With my outfit chosen, I still had a couple of hours before I had to leave for the restaurant, which I used to try and get work done. I was over going to meetings, but writing was still my passion.
I would never get tired of it. However, I would get tired of the lack of motivation, but it was a bit easier now that I had something to go off of.
‘Weathering Storm’ has an aspect of royalty to it due to the classic chosen hero theme, but I was unsure if I wanted that in the sequel. I could add it to pad the story a bit more, but I wanted the main focus to be on the friend and the stranger.
Hmmm, maybe a call back to the hero, then? The king tries to reward them, but it’s not a reward they want. Yeah, that might be good.
I added a note to my document and managed to squeeze out one new chapter before I had to leave.
My heart was pounding as I got behind the wheel, and it took a minute for me to calm down enough to turn the key. The crash had left me a bit more shaken than I thought.
I’d finally gotten my Volvo back from the shop, and this was the first time I’d be driving it. There was a bit of anxiety, but I managed to push it down.
There was no need to worry. Happy thoughts, Anais. Happy thoughts. This date will go well, you’ll have a good time, and if not, you’ll be eating really good food and getting more info for that other romance book.
Everything would be just fine.
The restaurant was in the richer part of town with its own valet service, and I was more than happy to no longer be in my car.
The inside was painted dark charcoal with natural bamboo, giving it a very modern aesthetic, while the low light made it romantic. Other guests were dining at the bar and booths while I gave my name to the waiter who greeted me.
“Oh, Ms. Crawford, welcome. We’ve been waiting for you. Your date has already arrived.”
Oh. Well, no more time to psyche myself up for this, it seemed. I let the waiter lead me to the private booth.
There were white curtains surrounding the entire thing, making it completely and wholly private. The lighting made it so that I could barely see the outline of my date. The waiter pulled the curtain aside for me, and I finally got a look at him.
He was tall and had dark brown hair and gray eyes like a storm. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his suit was a black three-piece, the vest the same color as his eyes, making them pop. He held himself with an air of dignity and grace I’d never seen on anyone before, and his smile was as practiced as it was perfect.
He stood and greeted me. “So, you’re my partner for the night. It’s lovely to finally meet you. I’m Anton Gallahat. And you?”
Smooth. He was very smooth. He had an English accent that bordered on posh but only made him seem more dignified.
“Anais Crawford.” I wasn’t as nervous as last time, but the buzz was there along with the anticipation too.
“A beautiful name,” he said, gesturing to the seat beside him, which I happily took. He sat down beside me. “French relatives, or did your parents just like the name?” he asked, surprising me.
“French,” I replied with a smile. “On my mother’s side. My father wanted to name me Anna, so they settled for Anais so my mother could have the fancier spelling.”
“How charming,” he chuckled.
“And you?” I returned the question.
“English, though, closer to Northampton than London. You’ll find that most people with connections to royalty tend to stick either closer to London or their private properties,” he replied nonchalantly.
My eyes widened, and I quickly took notice to not make him uncomfortable. “You’re royalty?”
“Nothing as notable as you’re thinking but high enough that the title still holds a bit of weight,” he chuckled, not at all perturbed by my question, he probably got it a lot.
Wow. The Lush Experience did NOT play around with its clientele. I know I joked about being fine as long as it wasn’t a prince, but this was a bit much. My date tonight was quite literally royalty.
“What’s your official title then?” I questioned, taking a sip of my water.
“The fourth son of the Baron of River Burrough, but that’s rather long and pretentious, don’t you think? I try to keep my title out of my work. Most of the time, I’m a contact for my parents and help them with the locals to distribute supplies and aid.”
“Oh, wow,” I noted, eyes wide with curiosity. “Tell me more about your work?”
At this, he smiled. “Well, last week I was actually in Africa…”
Anton was one of the most interesting people I had ever met. His stories had stories, and as a writer, it was absolutely captivating to hear them.
Where I could write, he could speak, and I found myself smitten.
I hadn’t traveled much in my youth, save for a study abroad geared toward literature in Scotland. But to hear someone talk about it like Anton did was refreshing.
“I haven’t done much volunteer work myself,” I said sheepishly when he asked me if I’d done anything similar. “Mostly I donate to food banks. Cake mix, pop top tuna cans, oil, can openers.”
“Usually people forget to give can openers. I think it’s wonderful that you’re contributing,” he told me sweetly, not comparing our actions and I felt myself falling a little bit.
It was small moments, sweet moments that could leave me utterly breathless—that left me feeling like I was falling. Moments like these where he chose praise over criticism, where kind words were the first thing to come to mind instead of commenting on how I could do more.
“I try to be a bit mindful of things like that. I know oil is necessary for a lot of the mixes brought in but it can get expensive,” I noted.
“I think it’s great,” Anton smiled. “People often forget that helping can do a lot because they’re so focused on big names and big contributors, but I find that it’s important. Even if it feels small, it can make a big difference.”
Anton made me feel good about myself in a way that was different from Luke and Charles, and I had to admit that I didn’t hate it, even if I felt strangely embarrassed about it.
“What you’ve done is incredible, and I’d love to hear more about it if you’re willing to tell me.”
“Of course. Recently, I was in India. With their exploding population, there’s quite a lot of things they’re trying to get under control, like the need for food and water…”
Before long, hours had passed. We were discussing one of his older projects with water pipelines in Africa when the waitstaff told us the restaurant would have its last call for the kitchen.
I was shocked by how much time had flown by that the food I was so looking forward to had barely registered in the wake of Anton’s stories.
“It’s a shame tonight’s ending so soon,” Anton noted. “Will I be seeing you again, Anais?”
“I hope so,” I beamed. “Say our next date?”
He grinned, taking my hand and kissing the back, making my heart flutter.
“Then I’ll eagerly wait for it.”
I couldn’t stop the ringing in my ears and the shaking sensation throughout my body. If this was how I was going to be on my next date, oh boy, I was in for quite the ride.