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Chapter 12—Dinner Disaster
“Are you even trying?”
“Lay off, Pops. I know what I’m doing.”
“Like hell you do. You should be using that pool boy to drive.”
I grit my teeth. Not only has Mark already left for the day, but I didn’t even think to ask him before now. Then again, that might not work on Cherry.
“She’s a small-town girl, Pops. I don’t think a lot of extras like that are going to impress her.” I’ve been debating the same thing for an hour.
“Everyone gets impressed by a limo.”
“Not this time.” I look myself over in the mirror, fix a stray strand of hair, and unbutton the top button of my shirt.
“You should wear a tie.”
“It’s not the seventies anymore, Pops.” I lick my lips and look myself up and down, wondering if he’s right. I’m trying to impress her after all, and a tie might be just the thing. However, I don’t want to come off as being pompous.
Actively ignoring my father’s continued advice, I nod at my reflection and head downstairs. I have about twenty minutes before I pick up Miss Cherry Bay, who was kind enough to provide me with her address. I already knew it, of course, but I considered her willingness to tell me a positive step.
I take a moment to debate which car to drive—something sporty or something more luxurious? Pops leans against the sleek black and silver Lotus Evija.
“Way over the top.”
“She’s into the environment.”
“Just because she wants to be a botanist doesn’t mean she’s an environmentalist.” I shake my head and look away, knowing my statement is rather obtuse.
“Do you want to impress her or not?”
“Not everyone is impressed by the same things,” I mutter.
Pops rolls his eyes and points to the door of the Lotus. With a sigh, I walk over to the wall, grab the key fob, and jump in the car.
I’m beyond nervous, and I’m not exactly sure why. Granted, it has been a while since I’ve actually gone on a date per se, but it seems like something more than that. I’m used to women coming to me, not me pursuing them. Women have always been drawn to my money and the power the Orso name brings with it, but Cherry likely hasn’t figured all of that out yet. Even when she does, I’m not sure it will influence her.
I want to impress her. I need to impress her, or all of this falls apart.
As I park in the lot for her building, I wipe my hands on my jacket. I can’t believe my palms are sweating, and it will hardly make a good first impression. I take a minute to collect myself and focus on my goal before I walk up the stairs to her door. The apartment doesn’t appear to have a doorbell, so I knock politely, but no one answers. I knock a little harder, and the apartment door behind me opens.
“Oh!”
I glance behind me to find a woman staring at me, wide-eyed and dressed in what can only be considered a house frock. I’m nearly blinded by the pink and blue flowers that cover it.
“Good evening,” I say with a polite smile. “Do you know if Miss Bay is at home?”
Her mouth drops open, but before she can reply, Cherry opens the door, and all thoughts of garish flowers vanish.
Cherry stands before me, hand still on the doorknob, wearing a slinky, dark red dress that swoops down her neckline and stops just above her knee. Hanging atop the slight amount of visual cleavage is a gold pendant decorated with a garnet and pearls. Though I know nothing about vintage jewelry, the necklace is almost certainly an antique.
She is absolutely stunning.
“Hi!” She looks at me cautiously as she blushes.
I glance up quickly, realizing that I had been unabashedly ogling her, and manage a sheepish smile.
“Hi there,” I reply. “You look amazing!”
