EleDATE

3| It's Happening

There wasn't a better idea out there. This was actually happening.

After a full Saturday night and Sunday of researching and brainstorming, we were not able to come up with anything remotely as unique as eleDATE. Besides, Dakota was a stubborn man, and once he made up his mind about something it was damn near impossible to change it.

When my alarm went off on Monday morning, I felt physically ill. My stomach was in knots. I knew that there were some logistics that needed to be worked out before I could actually begin the dates, but I was still dreading meeting with Dakota to discuss the idea.

I sifted through my closet, deciding to wear my black pencil skirt, black strappy heels, and a short sleeve, olive blouse. I figured I'd dress nice today to try and keep a fake sense of confidence while pitching my stupid idea.

Once dressed, I threw some curls in my long hair, pulling it into a messy bun at my neck. I pulled some pieces out of the bun, curling them loosely to frame my face. When I was ready, I shoved down a not-so-nutritious granola bar before grabbing up my work bag and heading out the door.

As I navigated through the familiar streets of Charlotte, I swore the drive to my office building had never felt so long. As if hitting every single red light wasn't bad enough, the familiar drive became even more agitating as I thought about meeting with Dakota.

I still couldn't believe that he threatened to fire me, and I'd be lying if I said I wan't a little hurt by the notion.

Even after I parked my car and made my way to the elevator I was still being overly dramatic and grumpy. This was a new feeling for me-- dreading coming to work. It was definitely something I didn't want to experience more than once.

As the elevator doors closed I couldn't help but think about this tiny box as the space where I'd be having dates; many, many dates. Now that I was standing in here, the idea seemed even more ridiculous.

"Hold the elevator," a voice called from somewhere in front of me.

I stuck my hand out, stopping the doors from closing just in time. They slowly opened again to reveal that I was now standing face to face with Dakota. Shit.

"Ah, Ms. Adams. Just the writer I wanted to see," he said, strolling into the elevator with all the grace of a professional dancer.

"Mr. Kramer," I greeted, pressing the button to my floor.

"Oh don't bother to stop at your office," Dakota said, reaching over me to press the button for 50. A waft of cologne hit my nose. He always smelled amazing, yet he rarely ever smelled the same. I swear the man collected cologne. In fact, some of us girls made a game out of it, trying to guess which scent he'd wear the following day.

"Oh," I said, "okay." Immediately it became dead quiet in the elevator as we stood near each other in awkward silence. A strange sense of nervousness flooded my body and I couldn't think of anything to say.

There truly was something about elevators that created an unavoidable amount of tension between two people. Maybe that's why we came up with this stupid idea in the first place.

"Huh," Dakota chuckled, pulling me from my thoughts.

I cocked an eyebrow at him, inviting him to explain what he was finding amusing.

"I hope you're not this awkward on your dates, or this article may not work after all."

I scoffed. "I'm not being awkward, I'm just thinking. You're the one who can't handle silence."

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, staring ahead at our reflection in the shiny doors. He was so tall it made me look extra short beside him, even in my heels.