When Eric insisted on covering the cost of our first date, I thought I had found a true gentleman. He showed up with a bouquet of roses, a thoughtful little gift, and engaging conversation that flowed effortlessly. It felt like a scene straight out of a romantic comedy, and I could almost hear my best friend, Mia, smugly saying, “I told you so,” since she had set this up.
I had my reservations when she first suggested it. “Come on, Kelly, just trust me. Eric is such a gentleman. You’ll love him,” she had said excitedly over the phone while I rummaged through my closet, trying to pick an outfit.
“You’ve never set me up before,” I pointed out. “What makes you think you know my type?”
Mia was undeterred. “Because I know you better than anyone! Plus, Chris thinks he’s great. They’ve been friends for years.”
That gave me pause. Chris, Mia’s boyfriend, had a knack for reading people. He wouldn’t hype someone up unless he genuinely believed in them. If he thought Eric was worth a shot, maybe I should give it a try.
“Fine,” I sighed. “At least send me a picture.”
Seconds later, my phone pinged. I opened the message and scanned the image with curiosity. Eric looked just like his photo—clean-cut, well-dressed, and sporting a warm smile. Not bad at all.
“Okay,” I admitted. “He’s cute.”
Mia squealed in delight. “Text him! Set it up! You won’t regret it.”
After exchanging a few casual messages, I agreed to meet Eric for dinner at a new Italian restaurant by the river—fancy but not overly intimidating. The kind of place where first dates could either be a romantic success or an awkward disaster.
I arrived five minutes early, nervously checking my reflection in my phone camera as I waited near the entrance. That’s when I spotted him. My heart raced a little. He looked just as good in person—attractive in a polished, business-casual way. But what surprised me was the bouquet of roses he held.
These weren’t cheap grocery store flowers; they were from a florist, tied with a ribbon.
“You must be Kelly,” he said, flashing that same warm smile. “These are for you.”
“Wow, thank you,” I replied, pleasantly surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I thought I’d start the night off right,” he said smoothly.
But that wasn’t all.
From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small gift box tied with a neat cyan bow.
“What’s this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just a little something. Open it,” he encouraged.
