When Eric insisted on footing the bill for our first date, I thought I’d found a real gentleman. He showed up with a bouquet of roses, a small thoughtful gift, and effortless conversation that made the evening feel straight out of a romantic comedy. I could already hear my best friend Mia smirking in my mind, “Told you so,” since she had orchestrated this meeting.
Mia was confident. “Trust me, I know you better than anyone—and Chris vouches for him. They’ve been friends forever.”
Her endorsement made me hesitate. Chris, her boyfriend, had a sharp eye for character. If he approved, maybe Eric was worth a shot.
“Alright,” I said reluctantly. “At least show me a picture.”
Moments later, my phone buzzed. I scanned the photo—Eric looked clean-cut, well-dressed, with a warm, inviting smile. Not bad.
“Okay,” I admitted. “He’s cute.”
Mia squealed in triumph. “Text him! Set it up! You’ll see.”
After a few casual messages, I agreed to meet Eric at a new Italian restaurant by the river—fancy enough to feel special, but not so intimidating that a first date couldn’t go smoothly.
I arrived five minutes early, nervously adjusting my hair and checking my reflection on my phone, when I spotted him. He looked exactly like his photo—polished, business-casual, and attractive. And then I noticed the bouquet of roses he carried, a detail I hadn’t expected.