Alex looked at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she had overdone it. She had called Clara last minute to get some tips at applying makeup. Alex thought she looked pretty good if she did say so herself. Getting up, Alex smoothed down the curve clinging dress and let out a breath. She couldn't believe she was nervous. Well yes, this was the first time she was going out with someone so good looking, but Alex didn't think she would be such a nervous wreck.
It was 4:30PM and Blake would be calling her in about half an hour to say he was there to pick her up. So Alex took a seat and decided to wait for his call. She turned on the TV and flicked through the channels. She stopped on the news channel. She watched and listened as they talked about some political figure or another coming from Russia. Bored, Alex flicked to the next channel and decided to watch the Discovery channel instead. As she sat there watching, she could have sworn her clock was broken. The minutes were passing by so excruciatingly slow.
Alex checked her cell at least half a dozen times to see if she might have missed Blake's call or if her phone wasn't on loud. But nope. No call. When 5:10 rolled around Alex was afraid something might have happened to Blake. She finally decided to call him at 5:45, but she instantly got his voicemail.
"Hey Blake...um, it's me, Alexia Whitt. Well it's almost 6 and I was just hoping that everything is alright. Call me when you get the chance so I know that you're safe. Thanks." Alex hung up the phone and nibbled on her lower lip. No doubt she'd have to reapply her lipstick. Heaving a sigh when the clock read 6:30, Alex wondered if Blake stood her up.
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"Damn it." Blake cussed under his breath as he looked at his watch. Alex was going to kill him. Well probably not. She was too nice for that. But he wouldn't doubt she probably wouldn't speak to him Monday at work.
Just his luck there would be an unexpected visit from a Russian delegate. Blake was disguised as one of the waiters at the high class restaurant the meeting would be held at. Seemingly this man, Mr. Lev Petrov, was a player in the black market arms deal that was associated with the case Blake got kicked off of. Seeing as Blake was the closest operative on such short notice, he was ordered to go. No questions asked, Blake went to do his job.
He left everything back at his apartment, picking up his new identity at a disclosed location. As Blake got dressed in his waiter get up, he was being briefed about his job by Matt. When he was told about this inside job, it had been about 4AM and Blake had all but forgotten the plans he made with Alex the night before. By the time he remembered, he didn't have his cell with him and had no time to call her and cancel.
Blake was only at the meeting to make sure everything went over well. If any of the men messed things up tonight, the men in the black market arms deal would disband and then Blake's organization would never catch them. The meeting would take two days and Blake was grateful that it fell on the two days of the week that Blake didn't work. He glanced at his watch again and groaned. The play would be starting about now.
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Alex glanced at her phone again. Since she didn't know whether or not he was safe, she couldn't be upset with him. Right now he could be lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life because he got into a car accident. Well that would be believable if Alex didn't check the traffic reports and saw that there weren't any terrible car accidents. The play had already started and Alex was disappointed that instead of going alone and one of the tickets going to waste, both of the tickets went to waste.
If Alex didn't have such an aversion to alcohol, she would be out getting drunk tonight. When 8:30 came by, Alex washed off her make up and ordered in some Italian. She took off the form fitting dress that honestly was painful to wear and put on a tank top and sweats. Taking out her contacts, Alex put on her glasses and sat in front of the TV. She watched Sleepless in Seattle for the hundredth time. It was silly, but Alex was eating her spaghetti and bawling her eyes out at the same time. She barely caught the middle of the movie because she was crying and choking on her food. Alex really didn't know why she was so emotional about being stood up. She really shouldn't have expected so much. But how awkward would Monday be?
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The weekend meeting went well. No one dropped dead at the table, so that was a plus. Of course it did get a little tense when one of the American representatives for the illegal bargain made a comment about one of the African representatives. Blake thought the men would come to blows if not pull out their hidden guns and shoot some shit up. The weekend kept Blake in constant tension. When the last foreign representative finally boarded his private jet back to where he came from, Blake's mission was done.
By the time Blake got back to his apartment, it was nearly 1AM and he had to go to work in about seven hours. Alexia now had both Saturday and Sunday off, but Blake went into work on Sundays. Not too many people were scheduled to work on Sundays which meant privacy for Blake to do some snooping. But seeing as he was busy for the weekend, he'd have to snoop some other time.
Blake checked his cell and listened to the one message left by Alex. It made him feel even worse than he already had. There she thought something bad must have happened to him when in the simplest terms, he stood her up. Trying not to dwell, Blake undressed and took a shower. When he finished writing his report, it was close to 3AM and Blake was exhausted. He slid under the sheets and fell sleep.
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Alex walked into the office at 7:30AM. She overslept, but wasn't expecting anyone to notice she came in about half an hour later than she usually did. It wasn't until that morning that Alex realized how exhausting crying could be. She had wasted her entire weekend being lazy and depressed. Her tears weren't provoked by the fact that she was stood up, more so because she realized she couldn't have a normal relationship. When Alex got older, she pushed away her parents. They wanted so much to reconcile, but Alex just kept pushing them away. On one of their anniversaries, her parents went on a trip to Hawaii and died on one of those helicopter tours.
There was a knock on her door and Alex jumped. When her door opened, she was at least pleased that Blake looked like shit. "I'm really glad to see that you're not bleeding to death in a hospital bed or anything." Alex meant it as a joke, but somehow, it didn't quite come out that way.
Blake looked as though he cringed. "Alexia...I'm really sorry about the other night and not calling you yesterday. Something came up and I couldn't make it to the dinner or opera." Obviously. "I know I should have called you and I'm not trying to make excuses, but it was just really hectic and our date slipped my mind until it was too late for me to do anything about it. I didn't have my cell with me and I didn't know your number off the top of my head."
Alex straightened things out on her desk, refusing to meet Blake eye-to-eye. "It's fine." Alex said coolly. "Really, don't worry about it." Gods, Alex thought, was it just her or did she sound not only bitchy, but fake too?
"No, it's not fine." Blake interjected. "I really feel horrible about it. And if you'd let me, I'd like to take you out to dinner tomorrow night. I would have loved to take you out tonight, but the first directors have a board meeting until 8 and it wouldn't be fair to make you wait so long." Blake put on his best pleading look. "Please, Alexia. Go out with me tomorrow night and let me make it up to you."
Looking up from straightening her paper work, Alex sighed. How could she tell him no? She nodded. "Alright, Mr. Xander. Dinner tomorrow night at what time?"
"I'd like to make it up to you that you missed the opera also. So dinner at five like we originally planned at Jean Georges. Then we'll go see Madame B at seven-thirty."
Alex blinked a couple times, surprised at how quickly that was over. "So dinner at five tomorrow at Jean Georges and Madame Butterfly at seven-thirty." Alex scribbled down on a post-it. As if she could forget.
