Of, course It's you Anabelle

4: he's a work of art

With a grand entrance, my mother bursts into the office, draped in a luxurious fur coat that exudes an air of extravagance. The pungent stench of cigarettes lingers around her, but I choose to remain silent as she gracefully takes a seat, flashing me one of her trademark grins that always foreshadows something momentous.

"Prepare yourself for matrimony, my dear, for I have discovered the perfect suitor for you," she declares, her expression serious and devoid of any hint of a smile.

Yet, I am not taken aback by her proclamation. Earlier this morning, when she agreed to cease the endless parade of dates, I sensed an unusual shift in her demeanor. Initially, I had pleaded with her to arrange these encounters, but her personal investment in the matter has only resulted in a succession of abysmal candidates.

"And who might this 'right man' be?" I inquire, willing to hear her out. Living in this perpetual state of dissatisfaction, I yearn for someone who can replace the current occupant of my heart.

Without hesitation, she rips open her purse and dramatically produces a card, slamming it down on the desk before me. "Go to this establishment by 4pm, and all shall be revealed."

I groan, slumping back into my seat. "Another blind date?"

My mother rises from her chair, securing her purse with a decisive click. "I promise you, my dear, this will be the final one." With a flourish, she spins on her heels and exits the room. I cannot fathom what has convinced her so fervently, but it would be a missed opportunity not to uncover the truth.

At precisely 4pm, I rise from my desk. You see, I possess a peculiar penchant for arriving fashionably late to these encounters – it serves as my initial litmus test. A man who remains unruffled by my tardiness lacks a sense of pride, and I prefer my suitors to possess an extra dose of insolence. Alas, they all fail this initial trial.

As I make my way out, my eyes catch a fleeting glimpse of Pamela, surrounded by a lively crowd, her laughter filling the air. Our gazes meet for a moment, and a shiver runs down my spine. It's hard to fathom how she managed to transform her appearance from the familiar tomboyish style I know her for, into a stunning New York City bombshell. What astounds me even more is that she pulled it off flawlessly. If I hadn't known her before, I might have found myself captivated, unable to look away.

Reluctantly tearing my gaze away, I continue on my path. When I finally arrive at the restaurant, I realize that forty-five minutes have slipped away unnoticed. To my surprise, the place is deserted, except for a figure sitting alone with his back turned. I assume it's my date, and with a confident stride, I approach him like a model on a catwalk. His neck remains still, not turning until I take my seat. His eyes finally meet mine, but they quickly shift downward, as if unimpressed.

"You're late," he remarks, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance.

Crossing my legs and leaning forward, I find myself intrigued by the man sitting before me. His face, chiseled like a rock, displays no trace of a smile. His jawline is so perfectly sculpted that one could mistake him for a work of art, a masterpiece in human form.

"Are you planning on staring at me all night?" he interrupts my daydreams, his tone cutting through the air.

A nervous chuckle escapes my lips, but I quickly regain my composure and respond, "I heard you went to great lengths to secure this date, even begging my mother for it. Renting out the entire restaurant shows that you're serious about... us."

He takes a moment to study me, his gaze sweeping over my entire being, leaving me in a state of bewilderment. His thoughts remain a mystery, his next words a puzzle waiting to be solved, and I can't help but find this enigmatic quality alluring. He defies my expectations by keeping his lips sealed, leaving me yearning to hear the sound of his voice.

Determined to shift the dynamic, I decide to take matters into my own hands and pose my favorite question, "What was it about me that captivated you?" I inquire, though it appears that the tables have turned, and I am the one desperately seeking his attention.

In response, he throws his head back, emitting a hearty laugh that causes his adam's apple to dance in a mesmerizing manner. "Your beauty?" he utters amidst his laughter, but his words lack sincerity.

A tinge of disappointment washes over me, and I can't help but retort, "Isn't that what they all say?"

With a nonchalant air, he replies, "Well, considering you have nothing else to offer, it shouldn't come as a surprise."

"Excuse me!" I exclaim, rising to my feet in a surge of indignation.

Yet, the man remains composed, urging me to sit back down with a calm demeanor. "Anabelle, please, the staff members are observing," he advises.

My gaze follows his direction, and indeed, I spot them huddled in a corner, their faces adorned with amusement as they exchange hushed whispers. Feeling a wave of embarrassment crash over me, I hastily sink back into my seat. He seems pleased by my compliance and suggests, "How about we take the time to truly get to know each other? I'm Channing, and I must say, I've heard quite a lot about you, Anabelle."