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Chapter Twelve

Morgan had been filled with excitement all weekend about his date with a one in a million woman. In his free time away from the conference and his colleagues, he scoured the internet for good conversation starters and sought advice from his best friend Jackson. Morgan was not the best judge of character, especially when it came to women, but he was absolutely certain about his assessment this time.

Today was D-Day and all the excitement had slowly been replaced by fear and anxiety. When this happened, it was only a matter of time until his mind went into overdrive. It would then generate questions he was not sure he wanted the answers to:

Should I have insisted on this date? What should I wear? Am I interesting enough? What does she think of me? Hell, will she even show up?

Morgan shook his head. “None of that matters now,” he said to himself in an attempt to calm the storm raging in his mind. As he stared into the body length mirror in his hotel room, he was pleased with what he saw. The slim-fit crisp white shirt, dark grey smart pants, brown belt and matching brown leather shoes really came together. The brush cut and fade hairstyle was as immaculate as the day he cut it, including his pencil thin moustache. Looking good gave him confidence that everything would somehow work itself out in the end. Morgan was never confident to begin with but his self-esteem dropped it to an almost nonexistent state over the last few months.

A few minutes later, he was strolling down the hallway of his floor, heading towards the elevator. He checked his watch and saw that it was twenty five minutes before seven in the evening. At his current pace, it would take him another five minutes before he would reach the restaurant. Morgan was not early because he needed to reserve a table. That was done the night before. He was early because that was how his parents raised him. More importantly, first impressions mattered and he was determined to knock this one out of the park.

Morgan arrived at the restaurant on the 45th floor of The Rita Zora and he was immediately spellbound by the high-end decor. A waiter at the front desk dressed in a white shirt, black bow-tie, black pants and a black waistcoat greeted him with a warm smile. After confirming his reservation, he was ushered to his table which was located close to the centre of the room with an adequate view of the entrance.

He was reading the latest sports news on his android Smartphone, occasionally glancing at the entrance to see if Maddison would actually show up. Five minutes before seven he glanced up once more and this time, he froze for what seemed like an eternity.

Maddison was conversing with the waiter before she was directed to their table. As she followed him into the room, she walked with an air of confidence that he found awe-inspiring. When their eyes finally met, she flashed him a warm smile that made his pulse race. Morgan stood up to welcome her, thanking the waiter before turning his attention to her.

“Uh... Wow... You look really beautiful,” said Morgan, trying his best to keep his composure.

Maddison wore a short, strapless, black dress with a pair of black lace-up high heels, silver drop earrings and a touch of makeup.

“You look rather dashing yourself,” replied Maddison.

He pulled out her chair for her, took his seat and called the waiter over. Morgan made his order, all the while trying not to blush.

“So, what brings you all the way to San Valentino?” asked Morgan, placing his hands on his laps.

“Actually, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I decided to pay a surprise visit to my sister and her family. Plus, it’s San Valentino, who wouldn’t want to be here at this time of year?”

Maddison decided to go on the offensive. It was not only a way of bypassing small talk, which she disliked but also a mini character assessment of sorts. It was time to see if this was truly a waste of energy.

“Where do you see yourself in the next five years?” asked Maddison, her facial features taking a serious turn.

Morgan was taken aback by the sudden direction of the conversation but quickly regained his composure. He cleared his throat and said, “Two years left to finish my residency, add another two years of practice here and I’ll probably move back to my hometown to work.”

Just as I thought, he’s a doctor. A second thought quickly crossed her mind.

“You didn’t mention anything about starting a family or perhaps, you have one already?” asked Maddison. If it turned out that he was married, she would leave immediately.

“I don’t have one actually. My luck with women isn’t the best luck so I have sorta given up on that part of my life.”

“I honestly think you might be exaggerating. It’s better to have loved and lost than to never love at all. That is a famous quote from Alfred Lord Tennyson, if I remember correctly.”

“If loss is the only thing you’ve known, there comes a time when you have to cut those losses. No pun intended,” replied Morgan defensively.

“By your tone of voice, I’m guessing you’re coming off of a bad breakup?” asked Maddison.

“It’s that obvious, huh?” said Morgan, digging into the appetizers.

“I’ve been there before, although it was a while back. It sucks and no words can completely describe the hollow feeling that you get but you have to let yourself grieve. When you let it all out, pick yourself up and move on at your own pace.”

Morgan smiled, taking in her words. “What is your five year plan?”

“I am hoping to rise up the ranks at work, maybe reach the level of assistant accounts manager in about three years time. After that, I’m looking at several possibilities. Maybe I’ll settle down and start a family.”

“It’s quite surprising that you haven’t settled down already. A woman of your nature could virtually have any man she wants.”

“Apart from the high standards that I have set for myself, not many men are comfortable with dating a woman who earns more than they do or one who enjoys a certain level of independence.”

A minute later, their meals were brought to the table. They both thanked the waiter as he left to serve another table. As they began to eat, Maddison mentally took note of his continuously polite behaviour towards the waiter.

“Do you have an issue with the woman you’re dating or married to earning more money than you, Morgan?” asked Maddison before taking a bite of her Carbonara.

“Not in the slightest. If she’s a harder worker or does a better job than I, certainly she deserves more. I’m all for gender equality and besides, that way, I won’t have to stress too much about buying her gifts and get to save money too,” replied Morgan, a sly smile creeping across his face.

Maddison laughed and said, “Then you won’t mind me paying for my dinner, will you?”

Morgan thought about protesting but decided against it. “I’m okay with it. I could actually use that money to buy a ticket to next month’s Moto National Race in Sangela City.”

Maddison’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were into bikes. It slipped my mind that they were coming to town next month.”

“Hold up, you’re from Sangela City too?” asked Morgan, showing a little more enthusiasm than he was comfortable with.

“I probably should have mentioned it earlier but you didn’t ask,” said Maddison in between laughs.

They spent the next fifteen minutes talking about their favourite bike models, Moto National racers and their favourite Moto National Racing season. The waiter came by with the bill which they split and Morgan tipped the man. Morgan walked Maddison to her room, which was on the 30th floor.

“This is my stop. I had a great time tonight.”

“It was my pleasure actually. I honestly didn’t expect you to show up but you kept your word.” Morgan kept his hands in his pockets the whole time and made no move towards her. He had no intention of asking her if he could come in. By his standards, the night could have hardly gone any better.

“I’m appalled you’d think I’d do such a thing,” replied Maddison, feigning shock.

Morgan pulled out his Smartphone, handed it to her and said, “You wouldn’t mind if I got your number, would you? It would be nice to meet up, chat and make arrangements for the race next month.”

She agreed and entered the number into his phone herself.

“It’s a real number I hope?”                                        

“You’re joking, right?” said Maddison, unable to hide her astonishment, “If I didn’t want to give you my number, I’d simply say no.”

“Fair enough but you never know,” said Morgan, walking to the elevator, “You have a goodnight and pleasant dreams.”

Maddison stood at the door of her hotel room. He never asked to come in or made any motion to. Not that I’d have allowed him to.

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