Dinner Date

Raissa was furious. And nervous. But above all she was exhausted. She opened the door to her apartment number 217, kicked off her Christian Louboutin high heels and sank on her large sofa. She looked at her clock above the television: 6:17pm. She grabbed her silk pillow behind her, held it firmly between her hands, pushed her face into it and screamed.

“You can do this, Raissa”, she said to herself. She looked at the clock again. She had about forty minutes to shower and get ready for Erik to pick her up at 7:00pm. He wanted to dine with her at the Ritz Restaurant, or was it Peridot at the Bentley Hotel? Raissa rolled her eyes and reminded herself that this date was only for one evening.

A date. Something she hadn’t had for 3 years since her previous relationship. Raissa always thought of herself as confident, wild and sexy. But this wasn’t an ordinary date - this wasn’t a colleague who flirted with her until he had the courage to ask her out, or a client who promised her dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant for resolving a difficult case. This was set by her father. A complex man with complex problems and habitually dependent on Raissa to help him resolve them.

“Oh, come on sweetheart”, Lyle pleaded.

“A dinner with the director’s son isn’t going to fix this, father. We need to discuss this in a board meeting, professionally. Or do you need me to remind you what the term professional means?”, Raissa said, tilting her head to the side with her arms crossed.

Lyle looked at her daughter. She was beautiful. Fearless. A rock in his turbulent world. A carbon-copy of her mother. “The director is away for two weeks; I’ll be away with him tomorrow. We can’t afford to wait for a board meeting, Raissa. The only remaining option is for you to resolve this with Erik”.

Raissa wasn’t convinced.

“A dinner, a date, a meeting. Its’s all the same”, he continued. “I thought maybe holding it at the main office was too… formal?”.

“So, you suggested that him and I confer this matter over dinner”, she said dryly, turning away to face the portrait of her father that hung loosely on the wall. “Are you sure you’re not trying to set me up with him?”, she muttered to herself.

Lyle sighed. “No actually, he was the one that suggested it. He told me to concentrate on my Tokyo trip and to leave it with him and yourself.” Raissa’s heart stopped. “It sounds like he wants to get to know you too. It might be nice.”

Lyle gently turned Raissa around, took her hands in his and lifted her chin so he could meet her eyes. “If you don’t enjoy dinner with him, at least you’ll know you gave it a chance. But I also need your help with this”. Raissa could see the distress in his eyes, his face pale and weathered, his hands squeezing hers slightly harder than they should’ve.

“I couldn’t do life without you, sweetheart.” She squeezed back and gave him a small, hesitant smile.

She got out of the shower. It was 6:37pm. Raissa wrapped the towel around her body and went into the bedroom. It was two days since she agreed to the dinner with Erik. Although she would see him around the office, they’ve never exchanged more than a few words. But Raissa knew everything – mostly everything - about him, and this increased her uneasiness. It wasn’t first date nerves; it was Erik himself that unsettled her. Perhaps she should have been honest with her father, told him why she couldn’t be alone with him…

The sound of the doorbell snapped her out of her thoughts. She stared wide-eyed at herself in the mirror and then glanced at the clock that read 6:40pm. “Twenty minutes early?”, she frantically whispered. “Oh God, oh no, oh no, oh no”. She went to peak through the blinds and saw him patiently standing with a carrier bag in one hand – grocery shopping? – and a bottle of alcohol in the other. She hurried back to the bedroom and shouted that he could come in, the door was open. Raissa heard the door slowly open and shut.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not ready yet”, Raissa continued shouting.

“No, my apologies. I’m always unnecessarily early”, Erik responded loudly.

She put on an emerald-green silk dress with a side split that showed off her tall, slender legs. She accompanied this with elegant pear-shaped diamond earrings, and her fiery red hair was sleekly tied back in a bun. Erik turned around, his mouth slightly gaping and fixated on her stunning, lean figure.

“Ready to leave?”, Raissa said, interrupting his thoughts.

Erik cleared his throat and pointed to the carrier bag he brought with him. “Actually, I thought maybe I could cook here tonight if it’s okay with you”, Erik suggested. Raissa looked at the bag sitting in the kitchen countertop next to the wine bottle and then back at Erik.

“Oh… I thought we were going to the Ritz?” Raissa enquired.

“You mean Peridot”, Erik said, smiling. Raissa grinned back and let out an uneasy laugh. “We can still go”.

Raissa was screaming inside, her senses telling her to say yes, we should go to a restaurant, he needn’t go through the trouble. She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again. The plan was to go somewhere public where everyone could see them. She anxiously rubbed her hands together whilst Erik continued to stare and smile at her, quietly waiting for an answer. Raissa was abruptly cautious about seeming wary.

“Sure”, was all she could say.

“It’s a date,” he said, his voice deep, his eyes gleaming. Erik’s hair was thick, curly, a dark brown colour synonymous with rich soil. His dimples were engraved deep into the sides of his mouth, his lips full and demanding. Raissa found herself examining his features more than she cared to and suddenly seemed terrified of letting her guard down.

Erik proceeded to open the bottle of Merlot. He helped himself to two empty crystal wine glasses and poured the velvet red liquid into both. The strong aroma of blackberries and vanilla enticed Raissa to grab her glass and take two large sips - the rich, delicate, fruity flavour left a dry aftertaste in her mouth, but she didn’t care. She needed the wine to calm her nerves. Erik took slow, small sips of his wine, his eyes firmly secure on Raissa.

“I decided on steak and creamy mashed potatoes. I hope you don’t mind,” Erik probed.

“No, you go ahead and get started. I’ll be back”, and she left the kitchen, entered her bedroom and locked the door. Erik’s eyes followed her as she left the room, licked his lips and placed the wine down.

Raissa could feel her heart pounding, her breathing deep and unsteady. She pressed in her pass code to her safe that was hidden behind her bookshelf and held the thick folder in her hand that was stamped “CONFIDENTIAL”. She carefully opened it, staring at the first document that was titled “Subject Information”, glancing at the black and white photo that was attached to the report in the top right-hand corner with a paperclip. She momentarily stroked the picture, his side profile accentuating his sharp jawline. This is what happens when she gets too invested in someone, Raissa thought to herself. She closed it and shoved it back in the safe. She didn’t have time to finish reading it, and she certainly couldn’t do it now whilst he was in her apartment. Raissa thought about whether she was foolish for keeping this to herself. No. She knew how damaging this would be to her father and the company he built over three decades.

“The mashed potatoes are nearly done, and the steak will be too in about 5 minutes,” Erik said cheerily as Raissa entered the kitchen again. He looked like he was in his natural habitat, the cloth draped over his left shoulder, flipping the sizzling steaks with the tong and then dipping his finger into the mashed potatoes before putting it in his mouth.

“I was almost worried; you were gone for a while. Take a seat, I’ll bring the food to you,” he continued. Raissa couldn’t get the words out of her mouth, the apology lodged in her throat and struggling to be articulated. She sat on the seat like a pet animal obeying his master and glared at him whilst he continued to cook in her kitchen.

The clock read 7:21pm. Erik was right; she was gone a while.

“I think we should start discussing business. That was the whole point of this dinner, right?”, Raissa finally said.

“No business talk during dinner”, Erik said. He carried one of the plates on his arms and the second one in his hand whilst holding both of the wine glasses in the other. He settled Raissa’s food and wine in front of her, placed the bottle of Merlot in the middle and sat on the chair opposite. He took the cloth from his shoulder and placed it in his lap.

“To good food, even better wine and excellent company”, Erik said, holding his glass of wine in front of Raissa. “Cheers”.

Raissa took hers and clinked it against Erik’s glass, forcing a smile. “I don’t think I agree that my company has been excellent”, Raissa said. Erik appeared to ignore this comment.

“I’m still trying to figure out why we didn’t do this sooner”, Erik responded instead, and they proceeded to eat their meal.

Raissa found the dinner to be excruciatingly painful. Erik, on the other hand, appeared to be enjoying himself. An outsider looking in would think they were perfectly suited for each other, a match made in heaven, “couple goals”. But only Raissa knew how deluded, psychotic Erik Quincey really was.

Raissa suddenly saw a shadow moving behind Erik but didn’t turn around. She broke out in a cold sweat and her stomach clenched with fear. She held the knife tightly in her right hand, her head still but her eyes examining for any more movement of shadows. Erik took the last sip of his wine before placing it back on the table and rubbing the cloth on his mouth. He got up and carried his plate and glass to the kitchen sink. Raissa quickly turned around to see if anyone was behind her, but no one was there. Maybe she imagined it, she thought to herself, her paranoia causing her mind to play tricks.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost”, Erik said, towering over Raissa and filling her glass with more wine. He then moved his chair to sit next to her, one hand holding the back of her chair and the other trailing her right thigh. He inched his face forward so that his eyes were level to hers, biting his lips as he examined her delicate features.

“If you were so interested in me, why didn’t you just ask?”. Erik’s voice was low and toneless, the back of his fingers caressing the outline of her lips.

“Erik…”, Raissa whispered. She suddenly felt terrified and stood up to run to the door. Her chair clattered to the floor, upended. The knife slashed against Erik’s arm as he tried to grab her from behind. Her hand was on the doorknob when she felt cold, rough hands grip her arms and pushed behind her back. The rope rubbed harshly against her soft skin and tightened around her wrists. The knife fell to the floor, and her body collapsed soon after. She wanted to scream but nothing was coming out.

“Leave her there. The toxicant from the wine should be kicking in soon,” Erik said, and that was the last thing she heard before her eyes became dazed and she drifted off into a deep sleep.