I was so ready for something routine after the craziness and stress of the past few days. I reasoned that going on a blind date would be a fun way to take my mind off of work and what Amelia and I were going through. My mother had put it up, always wanting to see me become established. Though that wasn't precisely what I was searching for, she told me that the woman was perfect. I simply needed a vacation.
I was at a small, intimate restaurant downtown that evening; the kind of place where everyone seemed a little more attractive because of the gentle music and dim lighting. I got there early because I wanted to gather my thoughts and maybe grab a drink before my date came there. I ordered a whiskey on the rocks, and the bartender smiled knowingly. I took a sip, allowing the warmth of the booze to relieve some of the stress I had been carrying all day.
A woman entered a few minutes later and seemed to be looking around to see whether anyone was there. She was tall and had long dark hair that framed her face beautifully. She handled herself with a confidence that suggested she understood just how gorgeous she was, and her clothing was tasteful but not overly showy. I knew that this was probably my date, and I felt a twinge of anxiety.
She came up to my table, and I got up. I answered, attempting to maintain my composure, "You must be Naya."
She smiled and held out her hand, saying, "And you must be Lucas." She had a solid grip and immaculately manicured nails.
After exchanging pleasantries, we sat down, and for a brief while, it looked like the date might go well. But as soon as I spoke with you, I saw how mistaken I had been. Without any delay, Naya steered the conversation toward herself by showcasing her impressive professional trajectory, opulent taste, and extensive list of achievements. I made an effort to be kind at first, nodding in agreement and occasionally asking questions, but it soon became obvious that she had little interest in what I had to say. She hardly stopped talking to allow me to respond to her queries before turning to the next subject.
The evening wore on, and I started to nod off as my thoughts kept returning to the office and the unanswered question of who had attempted to poison Amelia. Though I knew that Naya should be my first concern, I was unable to resist. The past several days' activities had been so intense, so consuming, that it was difficult to focus on anything else. Naya was talking nonstop about her new automobile that she was going to buy and her current shopping spree, so I had to force myself to grin and nod.
At last, the server arrived to take our orders. Raising an eyebrow at me, as if taunting me to keep up, Naya ordered the priciest meal on the menu without even looking at the prices.
"I'll have the steak," I said, making a straightforward choice. I was not feeling particularly ostentatious, and I was not feeling inclined to win Naya over. All I wanted was to get through the evening and head back home.
Naya talked nonstop as we waited for our food, hardly stopping to catch her breath. Maybe she just didn't care, but she didn't appear to notice my growing indifference. Either way, it was looking more and more like this date was going to be a nightmare. I couldn't help but look at my watch and wonder how much longer I had to put up with this before I could leave with grace.
The subject abruptly shifted to my job by Naya, just when I thought the night could get any worse. "So, Lucas," she began in a tone that became increasingly patronizing, "what are you doing again?"
I said, attempting to sound impartial, "I'm an intern at Prospera Corporation." I knew where this was leading, but I wasn't ashamed of my work.
Naya raised her eyebrows in astonishment and chuckled lightly. A trainee? Truly? in your age range?
I forced myself to remain composed as a flush of shame started to creep up my neck. I answered, "It's a good opportunity." "There's potential for advancement, and I'm learning a lot."
Naya was not listening, though. She had already adopted a contemptuous expression as she shook her head. "An intern," she said again, as though the term wasn't appetizing enough. You know, I thought that you had a job, something that had potential. You're not exactly a recent college graduate, I mean, no offense. Isn't it time to take your career more seriously?
I was embarrassed to express how much her remarks hurt. I was aware that she couldn't possibly comprehend my circumstances. I tried to remain calm, but her condescending attitude and critical tone made it difficult. "I'm serious about my career," I murmured, attempting to control my defensiveness. "This only represents the beginning."
Naya wasn't persuaded, though. With her arms folded across her chest, she reclined on her chair. "Hopefully, you have a fallback plan," she remarked. "Since it sounds like you're not moving very quickly."
My mouth tightened as I fought the need to say anything I would later regret. Arguments over this weren't worth having. I could leave and pretend this never occurred if I could just make it through the rest of the night.
When the food finally arrived, Naya was too preoccupied to finish her diatribe for a few blissful minutes. Though the tension in the air made it difficult to enjoy anything, I tried to concentrate on my steak. I couldn't get the feeling that I had somehow failed, that I was being scrutinized and found wanting. Although the date was meant to be a diversion, it made me feel more stressed.
Finally, the lunch came to a close after what seemed like an age. Naya, obviously eager to get out, gave me a barely perceptual glance as she motioned to the waiter for the check. Though part of me just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, I offered to pay even though I didn't want to.
Naya made sure to tell me that she could easily cover her expenses, even though she didn't object when I gave her my credit card. "I don't require a man to look after me," she uttered in a harsh voice. "But I suppose the idea is what matters."
Trying not to let her words go under my skin, I mustered a smile. I tried to cut the conversation short by saying, "It's just dinner."
There was a coldness between us even though we had left the restaurant together. Naya didn't even bother saying "goodbye" with courtesy. She merely gave a single nod, mentioned that she was preoccupied with work, and turned to leave, her heels clicking sharply on the sidewalk.
I had a sigh of relief as I saw her leave. It had been an awful date, but at least it was finished. Someone who didn't respect me or my decisions didn't need me to pretend to be interested in them.
I inhaled deeply and set out to walk home, experiencing a mixture of fatigue and annoyance. My expectations for the evening were not met by this. Anything easy, anything to distract me from the problems at work, was what I had hoped for. Rather, I had become more isolated and anxious than before.
I was walking when I couldn't stop thinking about Amelia. I had a weird feeling toward her, even after everything that had happened, like our lives, had somehow merged. She was everything Naya wasn't: powerful, self-assured, and motivated. However, she was also quite vulnerable, and the idea of someone attempting to harm her made me unexpectedly protective.
I tried to get my ideas straight by shaking my head. My attention has to be on the here and now, on getting through each day without allowing my worry to get the better of me. However, as I headed home, I couldn't get rid of the feeling that things would only get more difficult.