Morning came, and I was eager to finally meet Eric Willingham.
But the annoying thing was nosey journalists flocking around our house.
There were at least five of them, each clinging to their cameras, waiting for someone to make the mistake of stepping out of this house.
I checked the address that was sent to me last night one more time before getting dressed.
Red, they say, is attractive, but I chose to go with olive green instead. I believe it compliments my skin, or maybe it's because I just have a thing for the color.
Either way, green it is.
The date is by 12pm. Odd timing, but I guess that is when the Great Eric Willingham is free.
I still have time before then, but leaving this house wouldn't be that easy, so I needed to start early.
It was 10 am. on the dot when I made my first attempt to leave.
My face came in direct contact with the butler the moment I stepped out.
He was leaning on the staircase, his chin straight up, facing my door.
I rolled my eyes at this.
Father knows me, he knows I'll try to go out, he prolly thinks I'll try to talk to the press.
F**k.
I head back to my room. I expected something like this, I'm still going for this date. No matter what it takes.
I picked my sunshades and put them on, then wrapped a scarf around my head, making sure it covered most of my face.
I opened the window and looked down. The reporters were still there. I ran to the other window, and this one was facing the backyard. No one would see me.
So, I did what I normally do as a kid whenever I needed to get away from this house. crawling down.
Thanks to the rigid surface of the wall, It has never been too much stress.
In no time, I was on the ground floor. I fastened my steps and didn't turn back until I got to the back exit. Now that I was there, I hoped no security would spot me, not now that I was this close to winning.
Just as I hoped, I wasn't spotted.
I didn't look back until I was on the road, far away from the house.
I stopped a taxi.
"Creame Beige restaurant," I said.
I've never been to this particular restaurant, it was quite far from where I live.
The drive, however, didn't take as long as I thought. In a few minutes, we were there.
"Thank you," I said when I dropped.
I stared at the building in front of me. It was tall, beautiful, luxurious, not the best design for a restaurant, I mean, a skyscraper restaurant?
I moved closer to the building, the write up on the top was not the name of the restaurant that I had received.
"Willingham Innovation," it read.
I squinted my eyes, and he said a restaurant, not their office.
I picked up my phone and dialed Raphael's line.
"Adriana," his dry voice echoed.
"Creame Beige? Why am I in front of the Willingham company?"
"By your left," he said.
I looked to the other side of the road, and there it was, a small coffee shop. 'Creame Beige' was boldly written on it.
I rolled my eyes at my silliness.
I didn't want to hear Raphael's voice anymore, so I hung up immediately and quickly tried to cross the road without looking.
But I was stopped in the middle by a screeching sound. and then a feeling the heat from a car's engine on my knee.
"What was I thinking?" I gasped, looking up.
A grey car with a dark tinted window and windshield was right by my side.
This car almost hit me! I fumed. even though I was not paying attention to the road, I still found it wrong that this driver was not careful either.
The car honked loudly.
"Watch where you're going next time!" I yelled.
The driver opened his car and walked towards me.
This man was above 6'2 "tall. Even in heels, I felt pretty small standing in front of the well-built man.
"You shouldn't be daydreaming and walking at the same time." He said in his deep voice.
I looked up to get a better view of this audacious man.
He had green eyes. Beautiful eyes, with a sharp jawline and thick hair.
"Ma'am." he said, snapping his fingers in front of me. But I was lost in those eyes.
Why does he look so familiar.
Too familiar.
But I can't put my finger on where I have seen him before.
"Oh God!" I said, coming back to my senses.
"I need to go!" I said, then rushed to the other side of the road. I was getting late for my little date with Eric.
"Miss! Wait!" he called out, but I did not want to look back.
I pushed the door to the restaurant and made my way straight to the receptionist,
It's a pretty small place, but at the same time, classy.
"How may I help you, ma'am." The lady smiled.
"I'm here to meet with Mr Willingham." I said.
"Ah," she said, checking her laptop. "Ms Steele."
"Yes, that's me."
"Table number 12. It's over there," she said, pointing at the only table that was occupied.
"Thanks."
I took my shades off before taking the seat facing the man who was seated, his head buried in whatever work he was doing on the laptop.
"Uhmmm," I tried to make my presence known.
He raised his head, his brown eyes meeting mine for a split second before burying it back. His black hair was all my eyes had access to now.
"Excuse me? Mr Willingham?" I said.
"Call me Eric, Adriana." I wasn't expecting that.
"You are a bit too early for the date." He added.
I peeked at the clock on the wall.
11:45.
"Waiter!" He called. And a waiter came rushing towards our table. "I'll take my usual. What about you?" He asked.
"Water will do." I said, I was trying to get my mind off the man that I had just met outside. But it was hard. Something about him kept him in my head.
"As we were saying, you are early." Eric said.
"So are you." I replied.
"No, as you can see, I'm working." He pointed at the laptop in front of him.
"Anyway, since you're here," he said, keeping it aside.
His eyes that were once looking directly into mine were now wandering around from my neck and down to the rest of my body.
"Mr Willingham," I started.
"Eric," he corrected. "You look different from what I saw last night."
"What?" I asked.
"Maybe it was because of the makeup, or perhaps the dim lights. You look prettier now."
He said.
"Oh, why thank you."
The waiter returned with a latte for Eric and a glass of water for me.
"So tell me something, what's your secret?" Eric asked in-between sips.
"What?" I nearly choked on the water. What on earth was he talking about?
"You know what I'm talking about, Adriana." My name sounds way more complicated than it should on lips.
"You'll have to be more specific, Mr Eric. I have lots of secrets." I sat straight, my shoulders high.
His eyes were now focused on mine, his stare intense. I stared back with a straight face.
"Tskk." he looked at the reception and back at me. "I like you already, Adriana."
"I like you too, Eric."
"But still, you have to tell me, how did you get on my father's list, with all the influential families looking to get this alliance, somehow, the little Steeles' got it, no offense."
"Offense taken Mr Willingham. Offense taken." Sincerely, it wasn't offensive. It's just the plain truth. Though the Steeles are in the same social class, they are way way under the chart.
Not even close to the Willinghams.
"Seriously, Adriana, tell me, why did they pick you." he leaned in from across the table, his face just a few inches away from mine.
I moved a few inches backward before speaking.
"How am I supposed to know that, Eric?" I said. I could just go ahead and tell him how much I spent on that reckless Raphael to get me to this point.
Eric took his time to look at me.
I was starting to get sick of the stares.
"You know what, Adriana?"
"What Eric?"
"I like you. You're fucking attractive. Pretty and all. I don't mind showing you off as my wife." My face flushed, and I felt a grin spread across my face
This is happening fast.
"Look, my family asked me to come check if I like you, and I do."
"So you are saying?" I asked.
"I'm saying, If you want this too, which obviously you do, then let's do it." He said.
"You want us to date already?" I'm loving the pace.
"Nahh, we can skip that, let's get married." He declared.
I coughed, causing me to choke on the water I was drinking.
"Say what now, Mr Willingham?"
"Yes, no need to do the usual boring courtship. We can get married next week."
Now, this was sounding off.
"Slow down, Eric." As much as I want this, I can't help but feel rushed.
"Look, my family wants me to get to know you and decide if I like you. Well, I do, and trust me, I can lose feelings pretty quickly. So let's get this over with." He said.
"But I don't get why? We've only known each other for like thirty minutes!" I said.
"Yeah? So?"
"So, no one gets married that quickly. It's suspicious." I said. Truthfully, I don't mind getting married to him right here, right now. I've waited too long.
But the idea coming from him sounded a bit off.
"I know. Adriana, let me be clear with you. You are lucky enough to get into our family. Girls would kill to be you. I, on the other hand, need a wife as soon as possible."
"Okay?"
"Yes, so now I'm going to go tell my family that you're cool and we should get married. I want the process rushed." He said.
I want it rushed, too. perfect!
"Hey, if you want it that way, I don't mind. But I'll like to know why, though." I said.
He leaned closer and pushed the hair on my face backward.
"That's for me to know." He said.
"Here," he added, placing a card on my table. "My contact."
He then directed a lady who I didn't notice was in the restaurant the whole time to come pick his stuff. And with that, he left the place.
I looked around the now empty place.
Wow.
He really did reserve this whole place just for this date.
Time to head home.
.
Lucky for me, when I got there, the reporters and other unnecessary crowds were all gone.
The first thing I came in contact with when I entered the house was my father's face.
He was standing still, no emotions on his face. It was easy to tell that he was waiting for me the whole time.