When Perfect Meets Crazy

15 - Our first date

We ignored the inquisitive looks we were getting. We both knew what we were signing up for when we decided to grab a bite at a nearby diner, me in my very expensive gown and him in a full-on tux.

People were going to stare.

"Never do that to me again," I hissed, leaning forward to steal some of his fries.

I would've ordered my own but recently, my mom has been against eating late in the night. She picked it up from an article I wrote for the magazine on healthy eating habits. I was not a fan one bit and neither was Olly but our mom wasn't to be trifled with -her word was law- so while Masked Idiot got a milkshake and fries, I settled for iced soda and food theft.

"Need anything else?" the waitress inquired as she passed by.

We both shook our heads, returning to our conversation as soon as she nodded.

"I got caught up... working on something. The organizing team needed me," Masked Idiot explained, shrugging apologetically.

I rolled my eyes, unimpressed.

"I still made it in time at least," he offered. "Miss Most-expensive-dance-of-the-night," he added, sporting a cheeky smile.

I tried to not be amused. While it was happening, I had been properly furious at him but now, over an hour later, my anger had abated. At the end of the day, I was just glad he showed up at the nick of time. That was what counted.

° ° ° Flashback ° ° °

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your final chance to win a dance. Going." The auctioneer was clearly having  the time of his life whereas I was quickly beginning to regret my decision to go along with this charade alongside every other decision I had made since meeting Masked Idiot.

"Going," the auctioneer teased, drawing the word out for theatrical purposes.

My gaze, unbidden, landed on Man-child. He was leering at me and laughing with his friend in a way that made my skin crawl.

Masked Idiot, where in heaven's name are you?

Never, in as long as I've known of his existence, had I prayed more fervently for him to show up. None of the other men in the audience seemed particularly interested in rescuing me from the clutches of Man-child and considering what it would cost them, I didn't blame them. It was just a dance and if I were in their shoes, chances were I would also keep my chequebook firmly shut. Masked Idiot was my only hope of rescue.

"And that's a wrap, ladies and gentlemen." The voice of the auctioneer rang with unmasked glee. He even went so far as to wink at me.

Can you imagine the audacity?

The man was really testing the limits of my patience and in case I gave in to the urge to kill him, let the record show I was provoked to it, that it was a crime of passion. Passion for his death.

He flashed me a winsome grin, raising his hands dramatically before proclaiming, "Gon..."

"Two hundred!" The voice carried easily across the room to the stage. It was calm, unhurried, genuinely unperturbed.

My head snapped, turning so sharply to the direction his voice had come from.

I was almost sold to a proper asshole and there Masked Idiot was, casually strolling toward the stage like he had all the time in the world.