Capture My Heart

The date

All week, I tried to stay focus at work but C was making it really hard with all the teasing he did to me about Friday. I was so nervous as it was. On top of it, I didn't have time to go out and buy a dress. I decided to try and find something in my closet.

When Friday arrived, I quickly hurried home to get ready. I opened the door to find a white box with a red bow. I set my stuff down and picked up the note, put me on.

I set the note down and opened the box. Inside laid a navy chiffon dress with matching shoes and jewelry. What in the world?

I made my way to the bathroom and showered quickly, then I dressed and did my hair and make up. Finally I opened the box to reveal a sapphire necklace and matching earrings. I had to admit, C had excellent tastes.

I fastened the necklace and earrings and studied myself in the mirror. I didn't deserve this. I was just a foster kid who became a maid for an elusive artist.

Knock, knock.

I grabbed my purse and answered the door. His face contorted in shock.

"What? I look bad, don't I?"

"No."

"Is it the dress? Is it bad?" I was dying right now.

"No."

"It's the jewelry. I knew it was too much," I said as I started to take it off but he stopped me.

"It's perfect."

"Oh."

"Sera, don't be nervous. You look radiant."

I couldn't help but blush. C was incredible. He helped me with my coat and held out his arm. I took it gently and he led me to the car. He opened the door and I climbed inside. He shit it and went to the driver's side, getting inside himself.

He drove until we pulled into a building. I got out and looked up, staring at it in awe. He handed the valet his keys then held out his arm. We strolled inside and we're greeted by the hostess.

He removed his coat and helped me with mine. She nodded and smile, then we were led to a table. Once seated, I sat there and looked around. It was breathtaking.

"Well?"

"It's incredible. I love the architecture of it all," I breathed.

"Didn't you go to school for architecture?"

I looked at him, "yes."

"How did you end up in an office building, being a gofer?"

I cringed at that when he said that. It was true. I was basically a gofer, fetching coffee for a wretched man.

"Well, I guess the same way I ended up being a maid for an artist."

"Touché."

"What about you? Have you worked for Mr. Thompson a while?"

"Something like that," he shrugged.

"He seems."

"What?"

"Interesting."

"How so?"

"Well, he's elusive but yet has never made me feel like I'm a terrible person because I came from foster homes. People hear about that and automatically assume you're this horrible person."

"Sera, everyone at some point is put in a circumstance they don't choose. It shouldn't define them."

"True. I just don't want him to think poorly of me."