Chapter 5

"Here is a new dress for your blind date," my mum said as she laid a silky navy-blue dress on my bed.

"What? Mom..." I said, clearly showing that I wasn't even expecting it. "Where did you even get this? It looks expensive."

"It doesn't matter how I got it. What matters is that you need to look breathtaking for your future husband," she said excitedly.

"Yeah, a future husband I don't even love," I responded.

"At least he is the breathtaking one," Priscilla added. I threw my pillow at her; she dodged it, giggling.

"I don't care about his looks," I said.

"You don't care? Wait! Ava, have you even bothered to know what he looks like?" my mum asked, shocked.

"Nope! I didn't bother, and I am not gonna bother. Besides, I will see what he looks like today... so what's the big deal?" I said while looking through my clothes for something simple and comfortable.

"Oh! Wow! Okay, if that's how you want it, that's fine," my mum said.

"He is so handsome and dreamy. I saw his pictures the other day... You know, I am happy for you, Ava. Even if this is just an arranged thing, your husband is okay to feed your eyes. And he is RICH," Priscilla said. My mum giggled, shaking her head at what Priscilla said.

"Baby girl, looks and money are not everything," my mum said.

"Exactly!" I agreed. "I have told her to stop simping over rich and handsome men. Take James, for example—where did it get me?" I said.

Priscilla's smile faded, and my mum let out a faint cough.

"And who knows, if you say Nathaniel is exactly how you described him, he might be a douchebag too, but I won't have any choice but to marry him because of our situation," I said, feeling frustrated and sad. I sat on the bed, looking worried.

My mum sat beside me and gave me a hug. "I really hope he is a nice guy and you guys fall in love with each other. I really do... I'm so sorry you have to go through this because of us." My sister sat down too and hugged me.

I took a deep breath. We were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. It was my dad. "Hope you guys are getting her ready. She needs to leave on time. She has just an hour to get dressed."

"It's fine, dear. She is getting ready," my mum replied. "Okay, let's get you ready."

I groaned as Priscilla and my mother pulled me up from the bed like they were wedding planners preparing for a royal ceremony.

"Okay, go into the shower. We will pick out your jewelry and shoe."

I went into the shower as instructed. When I came out, I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Mom, I told you I’m not wearing that," I protested, eyeing the silky navy-blue dress and shoe combination with distaste. It was elegant, fitted, and had an open back and the heels were really high —basically, everything I didn’t like wearing.

"Of course, you are," she said, completely ignoring my complaint.

"It’s perfect for a date," Priscilla added. I gave her a death glare.

I crossed my arms. "It’s not a real date. We have to get married anyway. It’s just a—"

"A blind date," Priscilla cut in, her eyes twinkling. "With a real man, and you have to make him fall in love with you at first sight."

"Oh! So that's the plan!" I said sarcastically.

I took a deep breath, throwing a desperate look at my sister, who was now sitting on my desk, legs crossed, watching the scene unfold with a smile. She wasn’t going to save me. If anything, she was enjoying my suffering at this point.

"Mom, I don’t do dresses," I argued.

"You do tonight," she countered, hands on her hips. "No daughter of mine is showing up to a nice restaurant in jeans or sweatpants."

I groaned, but before I could protest further, she held up a lacy black push-up bra.

"Oh, hell no," I took a step back.

"Yes," she stepped forward.

"No."

"Yes."

"Mom—"

"You need a little… enhancement."

Priscilla burst into laughter. "Just wear it, Ava. Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend."

I shot her a glare. "I don’t need a boyfriend."

"Exactly! Because he is your future husband, not your boyfriend," Mum agreed. "But you do need to look presentable for this date. No arguments."

Forty-five minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing myself. The dress hugged me in all the right places, the push-up bra made me feel… well, more noticeable, and my makeup was just enough to bring out my eyes and lips. My dark brown hair flowed down my back in soft waves.

Priscilla gasped as she stood beside me. "Damn, sis. If I wasn’t your sister, I’d say you’re hot."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks?"

Mum clapped her hands together. "You look stunning. Now go before you’re late."

I sighed. There was no winning against these two.

I got to the restaurant early. It was fancy—the type of place where the forks had too many prongs, the napkins were folded into intricate shapes, and the waiters moved like trained dancers. The air smelled like money, aged wine, and overpriced meals. I felt out of place the moment I stepped inside, adjusting the strap of my purse.

I chose this place because I had heard a lot about it and wanted to experience it, to give my readers a beautiful blog about one of the best restaurants for a date night... I could even propose a collaboration with the restaurant.

Looking around, I started picking out the best spots for pictures and videos. It was a little bad habit I had—mixing work and personal life.

The host, a beautiful woman in an elegant black suit, smiled at me. "Welcome to Savoir, seems you take a liking to our interior decorations?"

"What? Oh! Yes! I love it," I said, realizing she had figured out I was analyzing the restaurant.

"Happy you like it! Do you have a reservation?" he added.

"Yes, it’s under Nathaniel... Uhm... Hargrave," I said, glancing at my phone.

"Ah, table eight. Right this way, miss."

She led me to a beautifully set table near the window with a perfect view of the city lights. It was romantic—again, not my thing—but I took a seat and pulled out my phone to record a video.

After a while, I looked at my phone, checking the time.

He was late.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty-five minutes.

I sighed, tapping my nails against the table.

Forty minutes.

That was it.

I grabbed my clutch, ready to leave. I couldn't believe I got stood up by a guy I didn’t even want to marry.

Moving away from my table to head out, the restaurant doors swung open. And my heart nearly stopped.

No! No! No! No!

It can't be!

I quickly ducked my head, covering my face with my hand and purse as I hurried back into my seat.

What was he doing here? Why must we cross paths today again?

Of all the restaurants in the city, why did The Worst Driver Alive—the arrogant, inconsiderate, spoiled jerk I had just sworn to hate—have to walk into this restaurant right now?

He walked up to the lady in the black suit. I prayed, begged the universe that he wouldn't be given a table close to mine so he wouldn’t see me.

She pointed toward my direction. I quickly ducked my face under the table, using my hair to block my face well enough.

Okay! Seems his table is close to mine. Don’t panic. Immediately he sits down, I will take the other side and run for my life.

As I was scheming a plan in my head, I noticed something from their leg movements under the table.

He was walking straight toward table eight.

Straight to me. ME!

I stared at the floor, frozen. Maybe if I stayed still enough, I’d disappear.

The last thing I need in my life right now is Nathaniel walking in late for our blind date and seeing me fighting with this jerk in this fancy restaurant.

He stopped right in front of the table. Oh my god!

I didn't talk or move. The silence made my heart beat faster.

Then—

"Good evening," his deep voice greeted smoothly. "Are you Ava Collins?"

"Here is a new dress for your blind date," my mum said as she laid a silky navy-blue dress on my bed.

"What? Mom..." I said, clearly showing that I wasn't even expecting it. "Where did you even get this? It looks expensive."

"It doesn't matter how I got it. What matters is that you need to look breathtaking for your future husband," she said excitedly.

"Yeah, a future husband I don't even love," I responded.

"At least he is the breathtaking one," Priscilla added. I threw my pillow at her; she dodged it, giggling.

"I don't care about his looks," I said.

"You don't care? Wait! Ava, have you even bothered to know what he looks like?" my mum asked, shocked.

"Nope! I didn't bother, and I am not gonna bother. Besides, I will see what he looks like today... so what's the big deal?" I said while looking through my clothes for something simple and comfortable.

"Oh! Wow! Okay, if that's how you want it, that's fine," my mum said.

"He is so handsome and dreamy. I saw his pictures the other day... You know, I am happy for you, Ava. Even if this is just an arranged thing, your husband is okay to feed your eyes. And he is RICH," Priscilla said. My mum giggled, shaking her head at what Priscilla said.

"Baby girl, looks and money are not everything," my mum said.

"Exactly!" I agreed. "I have told her to stop simping over rich and handsome men. Take James, for example—where did it get me?" I said.

Priscilla's smile faded, and my mum let out a faint cough.

"And who knows, if you say Nathaniel is exactly how you described him, he might be a douchebag too, but I won't have any choice but to marry him because of our situation," I said, feeling frustrated and sad. I sat on the bed, looking worried.

My mum sat beside me and gave me a hug. "I really hope he is a nice guy and you guys fall in love with each other. I really do... I'm so sorry you have to go through this because of us." My sister sat down too and hugged me.

I took a deep breath. We were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. It was my dad. "Hope you guys are getting her ready. She needs to leave on time. She has just an hour to get dressed."

"It's fine, dear. She is getting ready," my mum replied. "Okay, let's get you ready."

I groaned as Priscilla and my mother pulled me up from the bed like they were wedding planners preparing for a royal ceremony.

"Okay, go into the shower. We will pick out your jewelry and shoe."

I went into the shower as instructed. When I came out, I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Mom, I told you I’m not wearing that," I protested, eyeing the silky navy-blue dress and shoe combination with distaste. It was elegant, fitted, and had an open back and the heels were really high —basically, everything I didn’t like wearing.

"Of course, you are," she said, completely ignoring my complaint.

"It’s perfect for a date," Priscilla added. I gave her a death glare.

I crossed my arms. "It’s not a real date. We have to get married anyway. It’s just a—"

"A blind date," Priscilla cut in, her eyes twinkling. "With a real man, and you have to make him fall in love with you at first sight."

"Oh! So that's the plan!" I said sarcastically.

I took a deep breath, throwing a desperate look at my sister, who was now sitting on my desk, legs crossed, watching the scene unfold with a smile. She wasn’t going to save me. If anything, she was enjoying my suffering at this point.

"Mom, I don’t do dresses," I argued.

"You do tonight," she countered, hands on her hips. "No daughter of mine is showing up to a nice restaurant in jeans or sweatpants."

I groaned, but before I could protest further, she held up a lacy black push-up bra.

"Oh, hell no," I took a step back.

"Yes," she stepped forward.

"No."

"Yes."

"Mom—"

"You need a little… enhancement."

Priscilla burst into laughter. "Just wear it, Ava. Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend."

I shot her a glare. "I don’t need a boyfriend."

"Exactly! Because he is your future husband, not your boyfriend," Mum agreed. "But you do need to look presentable for this date. No arguments."

Forty-five minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing myself. The dress hugged me in all the right places, the push-up bra made me feel… well, more noticeable, and my makeup was just enough to bring out my eyes and lips. My dark brown hair flowed down my back in soft waves.

Priscilla gasped as she stood beside me. "Damn, sis. If I wasn’t your sister, I’d say you’re hot."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks?"

Mum clapped her hands together. "You look stunning. Now go before you’re late."

I sighed. There was no winning against these two.

I got to the restaurant early. It was fancy—the type of place where the forks had too many prongs, the napkins were folded into intricate shapes, and the waiters moved like trained dancers. The air smelled like money, aged wine, and overpriced meals. I felt out of place the moment I stepped inside, adjusting the strap of my purse.

I chose this place because I had heard a lot about it and wanted to experience it, to give my readers a beautiful blog about one of the best restaurants for a date night... I could even propose a collaboration with the restaurant.

Looking around, I started picking out the best spots for pictures and videos. It was a little bad habit I had—mixing work and personal life.

The host, a beautiful woman in an elegant black suit, smiled at me. "Welcome to Savoir, seems you take a liking to our interior decorations?"

"What? Oh! Yes! I love it," I said, realizing she had figured out I was analyzing the restaurant.

"Happy you like it! Do you have a reservation?" he added.

"Yes, it’s under Nathaniel... Uhm... Hargrave," I said, glancing at my phone.

"Ah, table eight. Right this way, miss."

She led me to a beautifully set table near the window with a perfect view of the city lights. It was romantic—again, not my thing—but I took a seat and pulled out my phone to record a video.

After a while, I looked at my phone, checking the time.

He was late.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty-five minutes.

I sighed, tapping my nails against the table.

Forty minutes.

That was it.

I grabbed my clutch, ready to leave. I couldn't believe I got stood up by a guy I didn’t even want to marry.

Moving away from my table to head out, the restaurant doors swung open. And my heart nearly stopped.

No! No! No! No!

It can't be!

I quickly ducked my head, covering my face with my hand and purse as I hurried back into my seat.

What was he doing here? Why must we cross paths today again?

Of all the restaurants in the city, why did The Worst Driver Alive—the arrogant, inconsiderate, spoiled jerk I had just sworn to hate—have to walk into this restaurant right now?

He walked up to the lady in the black suit. I prayed, begged the universe that he wouldn't be given a table close to mine so he wouldn’t see me.

She pointed toward my direction. I quickly ducked my face under the table, using my hair to block my face well enough.

Okay! Seems his table is close to mine. Don’t panic. Immediately he sits down, I will take the other side and run for my life.

As I was scheming a plan in my head, I noticed something from their leg movements under the table.

He was walking straight toward table eight.

Straight to me. ME!

I stared at the floor, frozen. Maybe if I stayed still enough, I’d disappear.

The last thing I need in my life right now is Nathaniel walking in late for our blind date and seeing me fighting with this jerk in this fancy restaurant.

He stopped right in front of the table. Oh my god!

I didn't talk or move. The silence made my heart beat faster.

Then—

"Good evening," his deep voice greeted smoothly. "Are you Ava Collins?"