Wrong for Me

09|perfectionist

NAOMI COLE—JUNE

A CALL FROM DANTE after a long day of work had not been what I was expecting, especially when we stuck to texting one another, but I definitely wasn't complaining.

"Hello?" I practically sang as I picked up, immediately wanting to scold myself for sounding so interested. I wanted to give the allusion that I wasn't so excited about his call and actually had something to do for the night instead of moping around my apartment.

"Naomi," he replied, his voice sounding much deeper over the phone as he dragged my name out. My heart began pounding at that very moment. "You free tonight, sweetheart?"

"On a Thursday night? Dante, are you crazy? I have so many plans."

"Can I take you to dinner?" He simply replied, ignoring my sarcasm although I could hear the slightest bit of humor in his voice. "At six?"

"Yeah, that works."

"Perfect. It's semi-formal. I'll send you the place."

With that, he hung up and left me with a goofy grin on my face as I still reveled in the sound of his heavenly voice.

"Fuck. I need to get ready."

***
STEPPING OUT OF MY car, I couldn't push away the thoughts that had infiltrated and now plagued my mind. Was my dress too short? Would he be angry that I showed up in such a sexy dress at such a fancy place?

"Naomi," I heard him speak from somewhere behind me in that sonorous voice of his. Just the sound of him made all those thoughts seem to dissipate as though they were scattering away from him.

I spun around to face Dante, a grin growing on my face as soon as my vision landed on him. I hadn't even needed to force the smile—just the sheer fact that he stood in front of me in that wonderful outfit as his brown orbs scanned me.

The fact that this man was devastatingly sexy wasn't a secret—and was probably an understatement—but by some means his current state only made him even more tempting. I couldn't say I was surprised to see him in a deep blue button up paired with charcoal dress pants because he was only ever dressed fancily, but something about the way that shirt clung to him made me want to drool.

"You look...breathtaking," I spoke, surprising my own self and Dante with that comment. I watched as his eyes popped open for a second before that lazy smirk of his appeared again. He made it look so effortless. "Okay...I didn't mean to say that so...out of the blue."

"Well it reflected your true thoughts...I'm guessing," he replied, approaching me quite slowly as he maintained eye contact. Suddenly I felt as if the temperature had jumped to like three thousand degrees.

"Right," I squeaked out just as he stopped just centimeters away from me, craning my neck to look at the guy. He was quite tall.

A moment of silence ensued as we just looked at each other—blank expressions on our faces although our minds were probably racing as we drank each other in. I was sure that we looked like lunatics to all the people passing by us.

"Let's go inside," he finally spoke, backing away from me and allowing me to feel like I could breathe for the first time in those few minutes.

We fell in step with one another and walked into the restaurant that I had passed on occasion, but never paid much attention to. It was out of my price range most times, but I had just got a massive paycheck so I guess this was my special treat—if Dante would even let me pay.

"Table for Mancini," he informed the hostess as I took in the decor and environment of the establishment.

It was definitely upscale, as all the guests and employees were dressed in very fancy attire. In addition to that, the artwork that filled the walls definitely came with high price tags and the rest of the decor just screamed 'rich'.