bsp; “Seemed more practical. And don’t get me wrong, I love numbers. They never lie, and they will always tell you more than any person ever will. They’re telling that way, and I like that. They don’t try to attempt to be anything other than the sum of their parts. Or the subtraction of their parts. Or the multiplicative.”
“You are the weirdest person I have ever met,” I said, chuckling.
“I try my best,” she said.
“I meant that in a good way.”
“Not sure how being weird is a good thing,” she said.
“It means you’re different, and that’s always a prize,” I said.
Her eyes lit up just for a moment, reflecting the serenity of the ocean. Fuck, what was this woman doing to me? The serenity of the ocean? Where the fuck had that come from?
I understood her a little more now. She wasn’t really weird, she was just artsy. Alternative. A gentle soul with a completely different language of expression. The pieces of her that were scattered about slowly started to fall into place, and the more she talked about her love of graphics design the more her eyes lit up. They sparkled with a passion that was even impressive to me.
It had been a long time since I had found someone who was genuinely passionate in anything.
“Come to dinner with me sometime,” I said.
“What?” Delilah asked.
“You just spent the last twenty minutes droning on about color palettes and your first ever graphic you created. And for some reason, I want to hear more about it.”
“Does this language usually work on women for you?” she asked. “Because right now, all I am is a little offended.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just…shocked.”
“At the fact that I…what? Actually have some substance to me?”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” I said.
“Then say what you meant.”
Her eyes were hardening and I could feel myself losing control. What in the actual hell was going on? I never fumbled the ball like this. I was always smooth with women. I asked them out once and they were putty in my hands. I had the perfect date I wanted to take this woman on. I knew exactly what would get Delilah going. She was the kind of woman whose mind needed to be stimulated before her body could be.
I just needed to get her to say yes.
But first, I had to fucking figure out how to speak the English language again.
“I have to say, for being a playboy, I’m really not impressed with your tactics,” Delilah said.
“Not going to lie, I don’t blame you,” I said with a grin. “But how about this? You give me the week. This entire work week. And I promise you I won’t screw anything up at this business.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” she said.
“Or in your eyes,” I said.
“Now that I don’t think I can see.”
“Oh really now? Fine. If I can go this entire week without screwing up in your eyes, then you have to go on a date with me. No questions asked.”
Delilah giggled and shook her head, but I could tell she was pondering my deal. I sat there with a half-eaten plate of food in my hands just screaming for her to say ‘yes’. My heart was slamming against my chest and my mind was swirling a thousand miles a second.
And I could’ve sworn my fucking palms were sweating.
“Okay,” she said. “If you can keep from screwing up in my eyes this week, then I’ll go to dinner with you.”
“Then let the business commence,” I said.