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Two hours later I am staring at myself in the mirror, seeing someone I don't necessarily recognize. Not that I don't think I am a beautiful girl. I am not one of those wallflowers waiting for someone to give me a complement. I know I have a very delicate and unique beauty, but this is different. They have given me an edge that I always feel on the inside but never reflect on my outside.
The dress fits perfectly, and the material actually feels quite nice. I suppose it's right what they say about you get what you pay for. I am glad the price tag was not on this because I likely would have fainted.
My eyes are black with a hint of plum eyeshadow that makes them look mysterious and smoky.
All of my angles point to my pink mouth, and my hair has been curled expertly and fluffed out so that it seems to never end no matter where I look. My ears are weighed down by a string of flower shaped crystals that hit the side of my neck when I move my head. I never would have picked such things for myself, but I think it is perfect for meeting a man that I want to be cautious about. I don't want to appear too eager, too vulnerable, or too bitter. He knows nothing of my plight or my hatred of my father or his ways, I am sure. And I cannot expect him to. Even if I choose him, which I am going to fight against until the end, he will likely not be my confidant.
I realize this.
I am soon led out to a black car, flanked by two of the men my father had hired before I came back around. Duncan is not coming with me, and I can't help but think that it has something to do with that night still. It's likely for the best.
The windows are tinted, and I feel suffocated between these two men in the back seat with me even if there is plenty of room and they are not the worst body guards a woman could ask for. I stare straightforward and wonder what to expect until we finally come to a stop alongside a similar vehicle. My door suddenly opens, and a hand, a man's hand, reaches in to help me out like a polite gentleman. I find myself looking into a pair of smiling, dark eyes, belonging to a man in a white suit. Yes, I have seen this man before, and turn up the side of my mouth in greeting. I have to admit to myself that he looks dashing even if I do not want to fall for him and marry him. He is certainly easy on the eyes.
I am on my guard, feeling like he probably thinks he’s god’s gift to women with the way he joked at the Clan meeting previously.
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses lightly, leading me up the steps to what looks like a gallery that I have not seen. It must be new; or new for me, as in built while I was away from London. I hear the footsteps of Bruno and James behind me and know that they will be following us all evening, making this blind date even more awkward. I kind of feel bad for them too. Do they ever get to go on a date rather than watch mine?
But I try to loosen up and appear slightly interested but observant. I don't want this man to think I am inexperienced with the Clans even if he knows a little about my lack of participation or that fact that my mother was not my father's wife. My father did seem to be close enough to him to crack some jokes, so I just have to hope he knows little enough that I can fool him and play it cool.
I am going to fake it til I make it for my sanity right now; for my safety. And I think this is the first time that I realize just how easily I could be in danger. "Try not to be nervous. I am nervous too. But our family has been doing this for decades," he says with a chuckle." I glance at him and let one side of my mouth turn up for a moment as we walk in to see that we are the only ones here other than staff. If this was someone I meant to be here with, I might find it pretty damn romantic. But it just feels wrong; inauthentic. I wonder if this is what it always feels like for all of the women in the family, and my heart goes out for them. How do they do this? Why don't they fight?
"What reason do you have to be nervous?" I ask him, trying to break the ice as we wander through the many paintings and sculptures; lots of modern art that is hard to decipher. I never did understand the stuff, but at least this wasn't some pile of mud called art. I had certainly seen those before, and with the strength of the wine we had been handed by the server, I would be laughing my ass off and really embarrassing myself if that were the case.
"Well, I do not know why I was chosen for such an honor as to have dinner with the beautiful and powerful Ms. Adame, but I am thrilled that my bid might be accepted. I know there is a lot of pressure riding on this single date. Not like a first date out on the real world," he tells me with a wink. I shake my head and look down with a blush. I can tell by the look on his face he likes the way I look. He seems a charming and nice man despite his involvement with the Clans.
"Please, call me Willow. Since we are being pushed together, likely much faster than typical terms, we should likely be on a first name basis."
"Thank you, Willow. You may call me, Stefan, in turn, then. I hope you are enjoying yourself. I was not sure what you would expect. I am not being told much about you. Your father has sent little correspondence other than that you are his only daughter, which I already knew."
I look at him in shock but quickly wipe it off my face. It is quite likely that my father is being portrayed as still alive at the moment for my safety, and maybe to give me more time to find a man... or escape this hell, but I don't dare say that to anyone out loud.
Once we sit down for a private meal right in the middle of the gallery, I can’t say I am having a bad time, and nothing about Stefan's niceness seems disingenuous, though he is quite a bit of a flirt.
It's funny because I have never been into "nice" men at all. That is a flaw all my own I will admit to. But maybe that has always been my problem, I have never given a nice guy a chance. Even if I back away from my position with the Clans, I could learn that lesson form, Stefan, here.
At the end of the evening, he asks me if he can have his driver drive me home so we can have a few more moments together. I nod to the security detail that hasn't taken their eyes off of us in agreement. They can just follow in the car. I don't think this kind of man wants to hurt me. I think he is attracted to both my body and my power, thus, he would want me alive.
Even though I have no passion with this man, I let him kiss me down my neck and up to my lips as we ride back to the townhome. I feel warm and relaxed from the wine, and I just want to be nobody but Willow for a moment. So, I just pretend that my girlfriends set me up, and this is totally normal. For just a few moments, I am not an Adame.
Until we pull up and stop, and I see Duncan's face in the foggy night as he opens the door and practically yanks me out, telling a harsh goodbye to Stefan. It is like I am instantly sober.
I am furious as I take the lead back inside, turning around as I hear the door shut and ready to let him hear it. I am not in the mood for his shit after he was the one who sent me on this fucking date.
But I can't do it when I see what is behind his eyes. Those damn baby blues are usually full of anger or cockiness, or some kind of sarcasm, but for the first time, I see something else there. This asshole actually cares about me. What the hell should I do about that?
So, tipsy as I am, I decide to do what any hot-blooded woman would.
I plant my lips on his before he knows what I am up to and kiss the shit out of him to see what he does. If nothing else, this could be my best way to give the finger to this entire life. Duncan is far from our respectable Romanian man.
