Worst. date. ever.
The limo parked in front of this super fancy restaurant at the heart of the city; after a long drive of stifling silence, that is. The driver opened the door for me and helped me out. Christian- oh sorry, "Mr. Grey"- got out of his side on his own. I took one look at this place and knew, painfully so, that I was underdressed.
You know that feeling of being negatively judged by everyone in a room? If you don't, I'm so happy for you and wish it stays that way, cause it is HORRIBLE! From the moment we entered- silently of course- we, or rather I, was getting looks. Even the servers side-eyed me in that sickening judgemental manner. I wanted to die.
Despite all the glares and glances I received, no one uttered a word about my jeans or shirt. Our server, a man dressed way better than me, brought us to our table and pulled out my chair, pushing me in while seated. I always wanted to experience that but not like this! The menu was tall and long but only had five things in it- all of them super fancy and VERY expensive. Mom said that dinner would be taken care of so I thought I might at least get a good meal out of the deal anyway. Or I did until our also well-dressed waiter came up to our table. He spoke to Mr. Grey first, pen and pad at the ready.
"Good evening, sir. Might I inquire as to whether you and the….." A soul-crushing pause occurred for a second. Once again, I wanted to die. The waiter pursed his lips slightly. "You and the "lady" are ready to order?" Oh my god, kill me. I tried to remember what it was I wanted through all the embarrassment when Christian piped up. "Two servings of lamb with baked potatoes. Mint jelly on the side," he handed his menu up to the waiter. "Excellent choice, sir," after scribbling something down, the waiter took his menu- leaving mine at the table- and left. He actually left! I sat there, dumbfounded and trying to grasp what just happened.
"W-Wait, did you just…..?" I heard my mouth stutter incomprehensibly. "I ordered for us. What did you think I'd do?" Oh! Oooooooooh, so it's like that, is it? That bubble of hatred I had for Mr. Grey that was born in the limo began to swell up in my stomach. My lips curled into a disgusted frown and my hands rolled into clenched fists on my lap. "I don't eat lamb," the tone in my voice was one I rarely used and thought I'd forgotten how to use really. My anger surged when this jerk had the audacity to flash me a mocking smirk. "Then I guess you're only having a potato." I hate him. I hate him; I hate him; I HATE him! My mouth stayed pressed shut as I shot him glares from across the table. I think he was actually getting a kick of how irritated and humiliated I was. He must have been seeing as he didn't touch his phone again until after the meal.
Christian leaned back in his seat in a totally relaxed pose; the complete opposite to how I was sitting right now. His smirk didn't disappear. "So, you're a university student? You don't look "that" young." "I'm in PhD," I snapped back bitterly, not wanting to say more to this creep than was necessary. "Oh, PhD? PhD in what?" "English," short, sweet, and most importantly, straight to the point. I could have strangled him when his leer only intensified as he chuckled to himself. "English? What? Not smart enough to get into STEM?" What did he just say to me? Did he just insult me…. again?! There are no words in the English language to describe how much I detest this man, and I should know. It took everything in my being not to raise my voice. The only satisfaction I had left was no stooping to his level. Unlike Mr. Grey here I had character, I had personality, and I knew how to kill someone with kindness. Too bad I didn't want to be kind to him.
I drew in a deep, deep breath and counted to ten in my mind. When that didn't work, I counted to twenty and finally regained my composure. "Not that it's any of your business, "Mr. Grey", but I was offered a scholarship by my department, and I am working with two of the best PhD candidates in my field. That is why I am in PhD." To my surprise, Christian eyed me quietly for a second after this, as if he was digesting what I just told him. I don't think that's a good thing… Once again, my suspicion was proven correct when that insidious smirk of his returned- cunningly so. "You've got a stipend- how exciting. Tell me, was it Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen, or Thomas Hardy who first made you fall in love with literature?" I had to keep from screaming my lungs out. "I study the ethics of fairy tales." "Ethics of fairy tales? You mean to tell me that you need a PhD to know that the moral of Little Red Riding Hood is don't talk to strangers?" He laughed a little. "It's a lot more complicated than that," I fired back enraged. "I sincerely doubt it. You academics can make a mountain out of a molehill, but I guess you have to otherwise you'd be out of a job," he added another keen, mocking smirk to his last sentence. I simply glared at him from my side of the table. God, I wish with all my heart I could have thought of some cut-throat, witty retort to this evil remark of his, but for the life of me I couldn't. Witty banter was something I didn't have much practice in. Why would I, considering the two wonderful people I live and work with.
The rest of the dinner was as terrible as you can imagine, and the movie afterwards was gruelling. Neither of us said a word to each other once we left the restaurant. Christian played with his phone once again in the car while I stared out the window, anxious to get home. This intense wave of relief washed over me when our building came into view. The limo stopped and my door was opened once more. Only then did Mr. Grey deem it time to glance up from his phone screen. "We're here?" He hadn't been paying attention to where we were. "Yep! Bye," I was in hurry to get the heck outta there, but not before Christian could throw in one last insult. "Great, about time. I'd say what a good night we had, but that'd be a lie." "I understand. Night!" Get out of there, Ana! Go, go, go! I had one foot on the ground and was ready to leap out when he tossed his head back one last time. "God, one more down. I hope I never see you again."
This- this right here- was the moment I cracked. This was the instance, the personal attack, that broke me. I had HAD it with this guy! He's on such a high horse, he's forgotten what reality looks like. It's a shame they let him out of prison so soon, assuming he went to prison at all. He should have; might have been a good wakeup call for him. My anger had surmounted with this jerk and yet, something surprising also happened in that single second. It was like all fear and intimidation he previously held over me had vanished. This man was beautiful, he was a billionaire, and he likely had loads of hard and soft power. Yet despite all this and the enormous class difference between us, I had lost all respect for this guy, which was a good thing. From that moment on I wasn't afraid of Christian, which probably was a miracle cause there were a million reasons for me to be scared of him. He knew where I lived and likely which school I went to. But no- no fear at all. I had officially cracked, and it was cathartic.
It was HIS turn to be surprised- in a bad way- when I froze halfway out of the car door. My head shot around, revealing this genuine smile; my first real smile since we'd met that night. I smiled at him, and our eyes locked for a minute; he definitely wasn't smirking anymore. My lips parted a sliver after a tense second.
"Believe me, I hope that too."