Date with Daniel

As I stepped outside, I saw Daniel waiting for me in front of my house. He stood next to his deluxe car, a sleek black BMW, its polished surface reflecting the morning sunlight. Despite its elegance, I couldn't help but compare it to Carmen's Lamborghini. Carmen's car had an undeniable allure, a combination of power and sophistication that Daniel's BMW simply couldn't match.

Daniel exited his car, dressed in a chic yet simple outfit: a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with tailored navy blue trousers. His shoes were polished to a shine, and a silver watch gleamed on his wrist. His smile was broad and confident as he looked me up and down, clearly impressed.

"Wow, you look stunning," he said, his eyes lingering.

I wore a simple yet elegant outfit: a light blue dress that fell just above my knees, with a delicate floral pattern. My hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and I wore minimal makeup. It was a practical choice, more about comfort than impressing anyone.

Daniel reached out to take my hand, but I subtly pulled away, opening the car door and slipping inside without a word. He cleared his throat, a bit flustered, before getting back into the driver's seat.

The drive was mostly silent, and I could sense Daniel glancing at me occasionally, perhaps trying to find the right moment to start a conversation. After a few minutes, he spoke up.

"I'm really glad we could meet today, Elena," he said, his tone warm. "I know things have been... tense."

I nodded, not really trusting myself to say much. My mind was focused on figuring out how to steer the conversation towards Clara without making it too obvious.

After about fifteen minutes, we pulled up in front of a luxurious restaurant. The exterior was grand, with large glass windows and an ornate sign that read "La Belle Époque." As we entered, I was struck by the opulence of the place.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the richly decorated interior. Plush velvet chairs surrounded elegantly set tables, each adorned with a single rose in a slender vase.

The sevant greeted us and led us to a table near the window, offering a view of the bustling street outside. Once seated, Daniel picked up the menu, his eyes scanning it quickly.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, looking up at me.

"It's beautiful," I admitted, genuinely impressed despite myself. "Definitely a step up from the usual places."

He smiled, clearly pleased. "I thought you'd like it. Let's order, shall we?"

As we perused the menu, I decided to ease into my questioning. "So, Daniel," I began casually, "how's everything going with Clara? You two seem to be pretty close."

He glanced at me, a bit surprised by the question. "Clara? Oh, she's great. She's been a big help with a lot of things."

The waiter arrived to take our order, interrupting the conversation momentarily. Daniel ordered a filet mignon, while I chose a grilled salmon. As the waiter left, I continued probing.

"She seems really competent," I said, trying to sound merely curious. "What do you like most about working with her?"

Daniel leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. "Well, she's incredibly organized and always knows how to handle tough situations. She's also got this calmness about her that I really appreciate."

I nodded, storing that information away. It was clear that Daniel valued Clara's professional skills and demeanor. But I needed to dig deeper.

Our appetizers arrived, and we started eating. Daniel seemed to relax a bit more, the formalities of ordering out of the way.

"You know," he said, leaning forward slightly, "I really enjoy spending time with you, Elena. You're different from anyone else I've met."

I forced a smile, feeling a twinge of discomfort. "Thanks, Daniel. But what exactly do you mean by 'different'?"

He shrugged, giving me a charming smile. "You're honest, even when it's tough. And you're passionate about what you believe in. I admire that."

I took a bite of my salad, thinking carefully about my next move. "Speaking of honesty, Daniel... how do you really feel about this whole engagement thing? Do you think it's what you really want?"

He looked a bit taken aback, clearly not expecting such a direct question. "Well, it's complicated. Our families have a lot of history together, and there's a lot of expectation. But honestly, I do want to make it work."

I could feel the frustration building inside me. He was clearly trying to toe the line between duty and desire, but it wasn't fair to either of us. I needed to steer this conversation towards a more definitive conclusion.

I decided to be bolder. "Daniel, you know Clara is really in love with you, right? I can see it every time she looks at you."

He looked up from his steak, surprise and confusion crossing his face. "Clara? In love with me? I don't know about that, Elena. We're just good friends and colleagues."

"Come on, Daniel," I pressed. "You must have noticed how she acts around you. She's always there, always supportive. It's more than just being a good colleague."

He seemed to ponder this. "I guess I never really thought about it that way but you know that not something you should care for."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "So, about Clara," I said, bringing the conversation back on track. "Do you think there's any chance you might feel something more for her if you gave it a chance?"

Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Elena. Maybe. But what about us? What do you want?"

I looked at him, feeling a mix of annoyement and determination. "Honestly, Daniel, I think we both deserve to be with someone who truly makes us happy. And I don't think that's each other."

He laughed, though it sounded strained. "You're really fixated on this, aren't you? Clara is great, but she's not you, Elena."

His attempts at charm were lost on me. I kept my focus, continuing to ask about Clara, while Daniel's frustration grew. By the time our main courses arrived, I was no closer to finding out why he seemed interested in Clara, and his attempts at flirting had only increased my irritation.

As we were about to start our main courses, a waiter approached with a bottle of wine. It was an expensive vintage, the kind you only see in high-end restaurants.

"I didn't order this," Daniel said, frowning.

The waiter smiled. "It's a gift, sir. From the lady over there."

I turned to look and saw Carmen sitting at another table, elegantly dressed and looking straight at us. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I felt a strange mix of emotions—confusion, curiosity, and something else I couldn't quite place.

"What is she doing here?" I wondered aloud, my mind racing.