8|Be Myself

“What the hell are you wearing?” Eloisa’s voice echoed from the open screen of my laptop.

I should’ve known that telling her about Eli’s invitation was a mistake. The moment I hit the send button on my reply to her question on what I’m doing tonight, f’acetime won’t stop notifying me about her call. I gave in and answered her call, already dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks.

The clothes I was wearing were very unflattering, and it looked as though I was going to interview a suspect rather than going to dinner with that gorgeous Italian. It’s one thing I have to be sure of - if he’s Italian - but the accent gives it away already.

“What?” I said exasperated. Even with my side facing Eloisa while I check if I tucked in the dress shirt properly in the tall mirror beside my closet, I can hear my best friend cursing under her breath. “I don’t want to seem too eager to be out with him.”

I updated Eloisa on everything that’s happened since I lost my journal, apart from the fact that I only agreed to this date to get more information on Eli Valentin. Eloisa is more like a sister to me, but telling her about my weird dreams gave me an unsettling feeling in the pit of my belly. There was this strange urge in me to keep everything to myself for now, at least until I knew more. I don’t even know what I’m looking for if I’m being honest.

“For the love of god,” Eloisa groaned, “you look like Ms. Matilda from seventh grade!”

Just like Paul, I’ve known Eloisa since forever. And her comment on our old maid homeroom adviser made me chortle in a very unladylike manner.

I turned to face her, and she’s also suppressing a laugh and failing. Her husband, Ethan, waved at me behind Eloisa, kissing her on the crown of her hair. He must’ve just come home because he was still wearing his suit. Ethan is a family lawyer working for Eloisa’s family own firm. Their love story was that kind of whirlwind romance. They met one summer in Florida after college and stayed together since then, got married, and from the way Eloisa’s cheeks glow, I can picture that there’s little Eloisa or Ethan on the way.

They’re a gorgeous pair. Ethan had that boyish charm that swooned my best friend at first glance. Blue eyes, body of a quarterback since he played as one in college, a dazzling smile which certainly got him out of trouble in more than one situation for sure. Eloisa, on the other hand, is a redhead that has the body of a model. I envy her metabolism. She can eat like a man and stay slim, an anomaly I’ve still yet to uncover.

“Got a date, Rory?” Ethan asked, neck free of the necktie now while he set his hands over Eloisa’s shoulder, giving it a gentle massage.

There was a pinch in my chest at how sweet they were. I wanted that kind of love. I thought I’d be married before I turned twenty-five, but that seems to be an impossible dream.

I hummed, turning back on my still open closet, choosing on my wide array of suit jackets.

When I pulled on a black suit jacket, the same color as my slacks, Eloisa cursed loudly. “Jesus, please tell me you’re just playing me right now, Rory.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked innocently.

Ethan waived at me, sensing that Eloisa is about to burst with the way her cheeks are reddening. She gripped her red locks as though she wanted to pluck each from her scalp, green eyes narrowing as she glared at me.

“You know very well what’s wrong with what you’re wearing. Are you going to cross-examine your date?” I wanted to say yes, that’s the purpose of this dinner, but she continued. “Let me see your closet. I’ll choose something slutty, not slutty detective.”

After ten minutes of Eloisa ordering me to pull out a few clothes from my closet, I ended up wearing black fitted jeans paired with an off-shoulder white long sleeve top. My ankle boots create a silent tapping sound against the carpet in my room as I pull my hair up and down in front of the computer.

“Down it is,” Eloisa smiled, satisfied at what she saw.

She was right, though. I look sexy yet not slutty in the clothes she matched together. The white top hugged my curves in ways that reminded me I am still a woman with a gorgeous body. I’ve given up on dressing up since it had been two months since I last went out with anyone. And while I was on duty, there’s really no need to dress up fancy.

“You can never go wrong with cherry lips. And guys like it sweet,” she said. My hands halted from smudging the cherry chapstick on my lip.

“Hold up, who said he can have a taste of these lips?” I narrowed my eyes at Eloisa and she merely rolled her eyes.

“Of course he will. How will you find someone if you’re so closed off to taking chances, Rory?”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know a thing about him, except that he is gorgeous.”

Eloisa hummed. “What’s his name again?”

“Eli Valentin.”

She held her phone to a gesture of what I assume was stalking the man on social media. “That’s strange. I can’t find anything about him.”

“It’s not strange. Some people just want to keep their private lives private.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like you, I know. I know. I want a full report on this date and if he makes a move to kiss you, don’t push him away okay? It’s about time you move on from the cheating bastard.”

“I can move on on my own. I don’t need a man to do that.”

“Your vagina does, though. It must be filled with cobwebs by now.”

“God, Eloisa!” I playfully threw a pillow towards the computer and her giggling echoed. She was about to say something just in time for the doorbell to ring. My heart jolted out of my chest. “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck,” she said, giving me a thumbs up. “You got this. Just be yourself.”

Be ‘myself.’ Yeah, like that would keep men from running away from me. “Thanks. Laters.”

We ended the call. I grabbed my coat, keys, cellphone and debated on whether to bring my gun or not. When the doorbell sounded again, I settled on tucking one small dagger in my boots.

I took a fairly deep breath in and out, resting my hand on the doorknob, calming myself. I don’t even understand why I’m always nervous about seeing Eli.

When he knocked on the door, I opened it and was met with his slowly becoming familiar scent. I really like the way he smells. It warms me inside whenever I get a whip of his cedarwood and spicy perfume.

“Hey,” I smiled, keeping a curt smile even if I felt like grinning like a Cheshire cat, admiring how his blue button-up shirt and flannel jacket complimented his gray eyes. He paired this with fitted jeans and a coat that reached below his knees - a vampire coat - his curly locks combed back to perfection, framing his sharp jaws and high cheekbones.

“Hi,” he smiled, and I felt my heart leaping miles away from my chest. He had a bouquet of lilies, offering it to me. It must be just a coincidence because I really love white lilies. “You look beautiful, Rory.”

It’s not often that compliments warm my cheeks, but his words did.

“Thanks.”

~~

Unlike the usual dinner in a romantic restaurant, Eli brought me to a local pub named Irish. We talked about the basics over a plate of pasta, burgers, and fries. I liked the laid-back feel of the booth he chose for us. We are seated in the far corner of the pub. Even though the place was busy, we still had the privacy we needed.

There was soft Irish music playing. I know so because Eli informed me. The soft flickers of the flame from the fireplace close to our booth made his eyes sparkle like glowing silvers. I was distracted the entire time because it reminded me of those silver eyes in my dreams.

I tried my hardest to keep those dreams at bay, preventing them from affecting my reality.

We are on our glass of Guinness now and I have to admit, I’m having a really good time with his company.

I learned he is living with his cousin Henry, the one I met in the mansion, and they moved here from Italy last year. His family ventures on real estate business and he’s a descendant of the original Vitale clan, one of the oldest families who lived here in Salvatore Hills.

Out of curiosity, I asked. “Is Eli really your name?”

My question seemed to surprise him since his body slightly stiffened. He recovered fast like my eyes were playing tricks on me. “Why?”

I gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I don’t know. Eli seems a bit off.”

“Off?” his brows were almost meeting together now. Great. I knew my natural curious streak would ruin this night.

I sipped my beer, shaking my head as I set the glass down. “Nothing. Forget about it.”

He tilted his head to the side, studying me. His gaze was searing. It made me feel hotter than the warmth provided by the fireplace. Not all people can make me feel uncomfortable, but the way he stares at me, it’s like he wants to read my soul.

I squirmed in my seat, tucking my hands under the table so I could rub my sweaty palms over my jeans. I was on the brink of bolting out of the pub, ready to walk back to my apartment, when he said. “Elijah.”

“Hm?” My eyes darted from counting the bubbles from my glass to meet his.

“Elijah,” he repeated with a serious look on his face. “My name.”