"Where is he?" You mumbled, checking your watch for the time.
Currently, you were sitting at a table at a fancy restaurant, with a white tablecloth that covered it, and a candle sat in the middle of it, along with the wine that you had already ordered, and silverware in nice cloth napkins sat next to the white plate that held bread crumbs from you eating the appetizer that they served you.
15 minutes, you thought, sighing. You really wish it hadn't been. Apparently, it looks like you had been stood up.
"Ma'am?" You look up from your plate and see the waiter for the second time. "Are you ready to order?"
You sigh. "Yeah, I may as well." You open your menu, already having decided what you want.
"Oh my gosh I am so sorry that I'm late," says a man rushing to your table wearing a black suit jacket with a white button-up shirt, black pants, and nice black socks and black shoes.
About time, you thought, rather relieved that your date had shown up.
The waiter smiled and nodded. "I'll be back shortly, then." He dismissed himself then left.
"I am so sorry about that," he says in a very rushed voice.
You chuckle at him, waving it off. "Don't worry about it, it's fine. I wouldn't have minded eating by myself anyway," you tell him light-heartedly but that only seemed to make him feel more guilty.
He smiled nervously, running his fingers through his hair. You could tell he was very anxious, just by the way he was sitting. He sat upright, not looking very comfortable at all.
"So uh, what kind of wine is that?" He asked, trying to break the ice. He nodded to the red glass of wine that sat in front of you.
"Dolcetto," you said, holding it up, admiring the look of it. "It's got sort of a raspberry taste to it. It's very good." You take a sip of it and set it down, letting the savory flavor seep into your taste buds.
He nods, giving you a 'hmm', before looking down at his menu. For a moment, there's a long awkward pause, and you couldn't help but tap your fingers on your glass to lift the tension off of your shoulders.
"So, Joe, is it?" You ask, which makes him look up from his menu. At that second, you get a chance to look into his eyes, and for once, not seeming in panic. His eyes are dark, soft, brown and are warm and inviting.
He smiles at you and nods. "Yes, and you're (Y/N), correct?"
You nod. "Yes, that's me. If I may ask, why were you late?" You didn't want to really ask that question, but he was fifteen minutes late. Usually after fifteen you would just get up and leave.
He huffed. "Traffic was awful. There was a crash and the police weren't even there to direct people. It was ridiculous."
"Oh wow," you muttered, placing your chin on to the palm of your hand. "That must've been rough."
He nodded, looking back down at his menu. "It sure was."
You almost didn't believe him, simply because it was an easy excuse to make up, but however, he did seem like a genuine guy and you didn't want to ruin his chances then and there.
You looked down at your menu to see what other wines they offered here, but before you could do so, you heard Joe clear his throat, which made you lift your head.
"So uh, what do you do for a living?" He asked, setting down his menu before looking at you.
You returned your gaze, smiling at him. "Oh, I'm a secretary at the moment," you tell him, not really satisfied with your answer. You wished you did something different. "What about you?"
