Chapter 2 - 2. A Different Date

The man whom Anthea had set her up with was blonde and also had soft features that appealed to the feminine eyes just like Keith. Nicole was sure it wasn't a coincidence—the universe and Anthea had conspired to mock her. Her stubborn friend refused to cancel the date and the next evening, Nicole found herself getting ready.

She sat in front of the mirror as Anthea applied makeup to her face.

"Why would you accept him coming to the house? What if he's a psychopath that goes after virgins?" Nicole whispered nervously. She didn't want to die still holding her V-card.

Anthea pinched her arm. "Ouch, what's that for?" Nicole responded in confusion.

Scoffing in disbelief, Anthea retorted, "After virgins? So you mean I'm not worthy to be hunted by such a good-looking psychopath?"

Nicole shook her head, wondering how she ever became friends with such a crazy person. "Good-looking or not, I don't want any psychopath coming after me," she said.

Anthea continued fixing her makeup. "Pucker your lips," she commanded, and Nicole did as told.

"Don't worry, we're two grown women. We can take down one crazy man if the need arises," Anthea said confidently.

But Nicole wasn't convinced. When Anthea was done with the makeup, she took out a beautiful plain black dress and stiletto heels for Nicole to wear.

Nicole protested against the heels. "Can't I just wear something low?"

Anthea looked at her like she was crazy. "This is your first date in how many years, and you want to wear flats underneath this beautiful gown? Every single day, Nics, you must thank your lucky stars that you have me," she said in disbelief.

Nicole sighed deeply in response. There was no reasoning with her, so she better just get it over with.

Anthea's phone chimed with a message from the Tinder app. "Okay, okay he's here, let's go," she said.

They walked out of their apartment and took the elevator down. Arriving at the parking lot, there was a cool sports car and a man waiting in front of it. The man was nothing like the picture they had seen. To crown it off, he was black and her date was supposed to be white.

Danger alarms went off in Nicole's head. "Anthea," she whispered nervously.

Her friend didn't reply, but Nicole could feel she was thinking the same thing. They stopped a few steps from him.

"You're not the date we are expecting," Anthea stated.

The man looked at them and cleared his throat. "My name is Trevor. My boss told me to pick you up, I'm sure he passed on that information, please double check."

Nicole glanced at Anthea, watching her take out her phone. She opened the Tinder app and gasped in realization, "Oh, I didn't read the message properly. He said his driver was here, not him."

A driver? Nicole wasn't convinced; this man and the psychopath could be working together.

"How can we trust you?" She asked suspiciously.

"I can call him if you want," he replied with a smile. His smile was easy; his demeanor didn't give off any psychopathic vibes, but you could never tell with crazy people.

Before she could further express her distrust, Anthea spoke. "I trust him, Nics, get in the car," she said.

"Huh? How? Why do you trust him?!" Nicole rushed out, but Anthea was already walking towards him. Trevor fluidly moved to open the door to the passenger seat.

Nicole sighed internally before taking a step forward. If she ended up being killed inside an abandoned building, she was going to haunt Anthea as a ghost.

As they drove away, Nicole sat in the car nervously, her senses alert for any form of danger. Trevor tried to make conversation with her, but it only slightly abated her fears -- she still couldn't get the image of her mangled body in an abandoned building out of her mind. Anthea's message popped up, asking if she had arrived.

She wanted to reply negatively when Trevor began parking the car in front of one of the most expensive restaurants in Chicago.

Nicole's fears instantly dissipated, replaced by awe. First a sports car and a driver, and now, a five-star restaurant? This guy must be rich. She wasn't materialistic, but rich people never ceased to amaze her. She always wondered what they did to afford the luxuries of life that she could probably never afford in her entire lifetime.

Trevor alighted from the car and came to open her door. She got out and followed him into the restaurant. She had never been privileged to enter such an expensive place before and suddenly didn't know how to act.

The aroma of food coming from different corners made her salivate. Everything was so neat and perfect, from the decorations, flowers, and lighting, down to the waiters and waitresses—their uniforms were a blinding white, and they exuded professionalism.

"Get it together, Nicole," she whispered to herself.

Trevor was taking her to a corner of the restaurant away from the glass view. She was glad about that, as she hated people watching her eat.

They approached a table, and seated at it was a man whose eyes were focused on his phone. Once again, this wasn't the man Anthea had shown her; this one, was far more her type. He wasn't blonde, and had more masculine features. He seemed to be in his early thirties and from the way he was seated with one leg crossed over the other, Nicole could tell that he was a very confident and charismatic person.

His suit down to the Rolex on his wrist, confirmed that he was indeed rich. Her eyes rested on his face and instantly, her attention was drawn to his jawline. She slowly traced it with her eyes and couldn't help releasing a low gasp at how chiseled it was—she had always had a weakness for nice jawlines.

He looked up as they stopped in front of his table, and Nicole was instantly mesmerized by the color of his eyes—a deep blue. A deep blue that reminded her so much of her high school crush.

"Trevor, thank you, you can go now. Please have a seat, Miss..." He waited patiently for her to say her name, but Nicole was speechless -- his voice was so deep and rich, she desperately needed to hear it again.

"Miss?" he repeated.

Coming back to her senses, she cleared her throat and replied, "Miss Richards, nice to meet you," before sitting.

"You're not who I was expecting," she stated.

"I'm much better than who you were expecting, don't you think?" he smirked.

Arrogance. Of course, what did she expect? A rich and goodlooking man was bound to be presumptuous. "You owe me an explanation," she said pointedly.

"I'll explain while we eat," he replied. Afterwards, their food was brought to them: she ordered seafood pasta while he ordered a medium-rare steak.

He proceeded to explain how his friend, her intended date, begged him to go on the date because he suddenly had something urgent to attend to.

"Why didn't he just cancel the date?" she asked. But then, how could she have gotten to be in such an expensive place and met this yummy-looking man?

"I feel he planned it so I could go instead. That sly fox," he said and shook his head in amusement.

She could see he loved his friend, which was a green flag. One red flag, one green flag: she could deal with that.

With each passing moment that she stared at his face, he seemed more familiar. Nicole couldn't shake off the feeling that she knew him.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere," she blurted out finally.

He took his napkin and wiped his lips before nodding affirmatively, "you do."

Her curiosity piqued. "Really? From where?" Where did she know someone like him?

"From high school, Alexander Roth. I was and still am popularly known as Xander, do you remember me now?" he replied.

Immediately, Nicole recognized the face that hadn't left her memory after so many years. With surprise in her voice, she asked,

"Xander, is it really you?"