First Date – Short Story

My hand was shaking.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before bringing the cherry red lipstick back to my mouth.  I slowly traced the outline of my lips once, then went back over them, defining and exaggerating the thin upper lip.  Once satisfied, I puckered up and blew a kiss at the mirror.  My hair was blonde today, shoulder length and curly, with bangs that brushed my drawn-in eyebrows.

I stood up from the vanity and walked over to the closet.  My legs were weak underneath me, and I wobbled a little in my heels.  They were taller than the ones I usually wore.  Thumbing through the dresses in the closet, I tried to decide between a knee-length black one and a short red one.  I wasn’t exactly sure where my date would be taking me this evening, but I didn’t want to give the wrong impression.  I didn’t want to tempt him in to trying to take me back to his place afterwards.  I decided on the black dress, and slipped it over my head.  As an afterthought, I tossed a gold wrap around my shoulders.  You never want to reveal too much skin.

After dressing, I glanced in the mirror once more to make sure my hair was still straight.  I had to admit, I looked pretty good tonight.  The intercom buzzed, announcing my date’s arrival at the apartment complex’s front door.  What was his name again?  Todd?  Tom?  I couldn’t recall from his profile.  I pressed the button to open the door and hunted around a little for my purse.  I thought I’d left it in the foyer, but ended up finding it stuffed underneath the couch cushions.  I hadn’t remembered putting it there.

“Hi, Michelle, right?”  He was handsome.  He had short, curly brown hair and bright blue eyes with an olive complexion.  His dark suit fit him perfectly, showing off his tapered waist and large biceps.  The only noticeable flaw was the fact that he was approximately two-and-a-half inches shorter than me, but then again, I was in four-inch heels.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you…” I let my voice trail off.  I hoped my voice didn’t sound too husky.

“Tim,” he said, smiling at me.

“Tim.  Can you give me just one more second?  I’ll be right back, make yourself at home,” I said, guiding him towards the couch.  Without looking back, I ducked into my room and slid out of my stilettos, searching for my pair of black kitten heels.  There was nothing I hated more than being taller than my date.  I hoped my changing shoes wouldn’t embarrass him.

“Sorry,” I said, as I reappeared in the living room.  “Those were new shoes, I could tell they were going to kill my feet.”  Tim smiled again.  He didn’t look embarrassed.

“Shall we?” he asked.  I smiled in response and he followed me out the door.  “I have reservations at La Lune, do you like French food?”

***

The date went surprisingly well.  I almost wished I could see him again, but I knew that would be impossible.  He held my hand as he walked me to my door at the end of the night and gave me a shy peck on the cheek as we said our goodbyes.  I told him I looked forward to hearing from him again as he programmed the number I gave him into his phone.  If he tried calling it, though, he would get the Automated National Time Service.  At least he’d be able to set his clocks appropriately.

I slipped off my shoes and walked barefoot up to my apartment.  The kitten heels were definitely more comfortable than the stilettos, but they still made my feet ache after walking three miles.  Once inside, I slid out of my dress, took off my undergarments, wiped off my makeup, placed the silicon bust enhancers I liked to wear back in their box, and put the curly blonde wig on the shelf with the others before getting in the shower.

I stood underneath the hot water for a few minutes, letting it work the tension out of my shoulders and back and reflected on the night.  Tim had been amazing.  In the back of my mind, I felt guilty all throughout dinner.  He was probably thinking about how well the date was going, probably even thinking about a second date.  Maybe more.  We’d gotten along so well.  That just made the guilt worse.  But I enjoyed myself nonetheless.  After years of this, I was good at compartmentalizing.  After this shower ended, I would never think of Tim again, just as I never again thought of all the other men I’d been on dates with.  When I woke up in the morning, it would be as if tonight had never even happened.

Once I was ready, I turned off the shower, said a mental goodbye to Tim, and toweled off.  My flannel pajamas were warm when I put them on, which was nice since the apartment was so cold.  I hung the black dress and the gold wrap on their respective wooden hangers.  I put the shoes (both the stilettos and the kitten heels) back on the shoe tree, and closed and locked the closet door.  I put the small gold skeleton key in the bottom drawer of my bedside table before turning off all the lights and climbing into bed.

***

The next morning, I woke up, made eggs and toast for breakfast, worked out in the complex’s gym, showered, and got ready for work.  I decided to treat myself and wear my new suit to work.  I had been saving it for something special, but today just felt like a good day.  On my way out the door, I straightened up the living room a little.  I found a small black purse on the couch.  Odd.  What was that doing there?  Something told me to stuff it underneath the couch cushions and out of sight, so I did.

The subway ride was smelly and hot as usual, but it beat walking any day, especially since my feet were so sore.  As I walked in the front doors of my office building, an odd sensation came over me.  It felt a little like déjà vu.  I glanced around, looking for whatever caused it.  I took a step backward and brushed against a man in a tan suit.  He had curly brown hair and bright blue eyes, and seemed oddly familiar.  Our eyes locked, and I could tell we were both trying to place each other.  I shrugged and gave him a hesitant grin (more like pulling the corners of my mouth back a little) and made my way to the elevators.

“What floor?” the lady in the lift asked.

“Twelve,” I responded as the doors slid shut.

After a few seconds of the awkward silence that always happened in a lift in office buildings, I stepped out of the elevator and made my way to my cubicle.

“Morning, Mike,” a passing coworker said.

“Hiya, Paul,” I replied.

I put my briefcase down on my desk.  As I straightened my tie, I felt a little stubble underneath my chin.  Damn, I knew I’d forgotten to do something this morning.

—————————————–

Prompt:  Write about someone who is pretending to be someone or something they are not.  Note, this is fiction!

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