Straightening the front of my dress, I take one more spin in front of the mirror. I’m wearing a tight black dress, one that’s half-sexy, half-slutty, and I gotta say… I look good. Now, maybe I shouldn’t be praising myself, but what can I do? My mother always told me to be honest. Besides, it’s a good thing that I’m feeling confident tonight… After all, tonight’s the night.

That’s right, tonight I’m having dinner with Mr. Freeway himself. I have a good feeling about it and, even if it goes badly, I’ll still be able to take WineBar out of my mind for a few hours.

Is there sex involved?

We’ll see…

Checking the time on my watch, I breath in deeply and grab my purse from the bed. Slinging it over my shoulder, I walk out of the apartment and, five minutes later, I’m inside a taxi.

“The La Lanterna di Vittorio restaurant, please,” I tell the driver, and he gives me a quick nod before pulling the taxi onto the road. The drive there doesn’t take more than ten minutes, which means that by the time I stroll through the doors of this cozy Italian restaurant I’m already ten minutes late. Or, as my mother would say, fashionably late.

Freeway’s sitting at one of the tables at the center, the light of two candles making his face glow. I smile at him as we lock eyes and, almost as if he has a spring under his chair, he jumps up to his feet.

“You look stunning,” he tells me as he pulls my chair, offering me a seat.

“I can say the same,” I reply, allowing my eyes to roam up and down what looks like a tailored suit. I usually don’t like when guys show up to dates wearing a suit (we’re not in the 50s anymore, c’mon!), but I guess I have to open up an exception here; Freeway’s suit looks like it’s his second skin.

More often than not, the first minutes of conversation in a first date are always icy and stilted… but that isn’t happening right now. The conversation just flows and, before I know it, I’m laughing like a little girl.

Oh, I was right; going out on a date with Freeway was definitely a good decision. He’s handsome, funny, witty… And he actually picked a nice restaurant for a date. I can’t tell you how many guys I went out with thought that a fast-food joint was a good idea.

“It’s actually pretty boring, but I travel a lot, so… I guess it pays off,” Freeway tells me, pouring the rest of the red wine into my glass. Since you just came in the middle of our conversation, let me put you up to speed; he was just telling me all about how boring his life as a Head of Trading for a big investment bank…hmm, lets call it Carter Jeffries is…

Yeah, I know.

Eligibility? Check.

“You like travelling then.” Grabbing my glass, I take it to my lips, and I have to resist the urge to down the whole thing at once. Jesus, Freeway really knows how to pick his wines; he’s almost as much of a connoisseur as WineBar is.

“Yeah, nothing beats travelling… I’ve been to almost every country on the planet, you know? I’m pretty lucky to have the chance to do that,” he admits. Well, at least he’s being humble about it. If I were as wealthy as he seems, I bet I’d be completely insufferable; I’d spend the whole day rubbing the fact that I’m filthy rich into everyone’s face.

“Of course,” he continues, “nothing beats the life of a writer. It’s all about Starbucks for you, huh?” He teases me, smiling as he cuts another portion of his steak.

“Uhmmm, you wish… It’s more about sleepless nights and having to wear reading glasses because your eyes are all shot from being in front of a computer screen for too long,” I sigh, chomping on my lower lip as I remember that I must have Lana’s emails piling up on my inbox by now. She’s eager to get started on a new book, but I’ve been completely distracted by all this Freeway/WineBar situation.

Oh, well.

“Sleepless nights sound like fun… And reading glasses are sexy,” he tells me, placing his elbows on the table and leaning slightly forward. Even though we’re sitting in the middle of a fancy (and crowded) restaurant, the way he’s gazing at me makes me feel as if we’re the only two people in the room.

“Oh, come on,” I laugh, feeling my cheeks turn crimson, and of course, my pussy growing wet. Who knew that a man I met on the freeway (of all places) would turn out to be a charming devil? He went above and beyond all of my expectations, that’s for sure.

“Just telling it like I see it.” He smiles softly, his eyes locked on mine, and I feel my heart tightening up. Oh, he’s good; he’s really, really good. “I wouldn’t lie to a woman as beautiful as you are,” he adds then, grabbing his glass and raising it. Smiling back at him, I grab my own glass and return his impromptu toast.

“And do you approach all beautiful woman you see on the freeway?” I ask him, unable to stop myself. I guess the alcohol is already taking hold.

“Only those with a smile like yours,” he shoots back in a fraction of a second, almost as if his answer was already waltzing on the tip of his tongue. That’s it, I don’t care how corny his replies might be, he’s definitely winning me over.

“Is that what you’re looking for? Just a beautiful smile?”

“No, not just that. I’m looking for a woman… A real woman, you know? Someone who’s not afraid of commitment.” Then, as if he had just remembered we’re on his first date, he then adds with a soft chuckle: “No pressure, Emily.”

“None at all,” I say, chuckling with him. More than feeling pressured by his words, I feel pretty happy about them; I’ve had this urge for commitment inside me for quite a bit now, and here he is, a man as handsome and charming as this… and he’s telling me all about how much he craves commitment.

Can it be…? Is Marshall Kane, Mr. Freeway, the man I’ve been looking for?

I spend the rest of the night with that question burning inside my mind and so, when he finally asks me if I want him to drive me home, I tell him ‘yes’ as fast as I can. Smiling, he hands the waiter his credit card before I can do anything about it, and then he escorts me out of the restaurant with his arm tangled on mine.

Sitting on the passenger’s seat of his black Mercedes as he holds the door for me… I gotta say, I feel like a true princess. And being alone with him in his car, I don’t know...It makes me anxious, and that in the good sense. I keep the whole ride waiting for him to pull into some dark alley… Mm, I’d just slide my thong down my legs, pull him into me, and act like an horny teenager on a forbidden date night.

I wait and I wait for that to happen, but that moment never comes. Instead, he drives all the way to the front of my apartment building, and he stops the car. “There you are,” he tells me softly.

“Here I am,” I repeat, and then he just leans into me and brushes his lips against mine. Before I have the time to pull him into me, he pulls back from his kiss and gives me a parting smile. “I really enjoyed it tonight.”

“So have I…” I whisper, wondering if I should invite him upstairs. “Do you wanna —?” I start, pointing up at my apartment building, but he just crushes his lips against mine and silences me.

“No… I want to take my time with you,” he tells me, looking straight into my eyes. “I don’t want to rush anything,” he then adds, his voice deep and making my skin prickle.

“Like a true gentleman.”

I’m stunned, really, how many guys would turn down the chance to go up to a woman’s apartment after their first date together and fuck her brains out? Not many. But that’s exactly what Freeway has done and, as I step outside his car and head toward my apartment building, I’m still thinking of his words.

I want to take my time with you.

Wow. Romance isn’t dead, ladies. It’s still here in real life.