A moment later, my phone tinged an incoming message.
The guy in the photo wasn’t ugly: clean-cut, well-dressed, with a warm smile that attracted his eyes.
“Okay, he’s cute,” I confessed.
“Told you!” Mia informed. “Text him and set it up. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
After a few casual texts, I agreed to encounter Eric for dinner at a new Italian place with a great view of the river. Nothing too interesting, but nice enough for a first date.
I arrived five minutes early and waited near the entrance, like we’d agreed. I was fearfully examining my appearance with my phone camera when I spotted him approaching the restaurant.
My pulse rushed a little. The photo hadn’t lied — he was attractive in that tidy, business-casual way, and he carried himself with confidence.
What I hadn’t predicted was the bouquet of roses in his hand.
Not cheap grocery store flowers, but an actual professional arrangement connected with a ribbon.
“You must be Kelly,” he said. “These are for you.”
“Wow, thank you,” I replied. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Figured I’d begin the night off right,” he said.
But that wasn’t all.
He extended into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gift box tied with a cyan bow.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Just a little something. Open it,” he supported.
Inside was a sleek silver keychain with the letter “K” engraved on it. It was graceful and individualised, something that demanded thought.
“Something just for you,” he said. “I asked Mia what you might like.”
I was honestly impressed. Flowers and a thoughtful gift on a first date? This man was clearly making a statement. Either he was interested, or he was the king of first impressions.
“This is really nice of you,” I said. “Thank you.”
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