AN: Big chapter around 2.8k words. Managed to complete the date. Got an electricity problem in the area. So, I couldn't proofread it. So, if you find any mistakes, let me know. I'll upload the next chapter soon, hopefully tonight.
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[Evening]
Chloe had just clocked out for the day when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took out her phone and looked at the caller ID, and smiled instantly.
Alex.
She took the call. "Hey, superstar," she said, leaning lightly against the wall.
On the other end, his voice was warm, calm, like he'd been expecting her to sound exactly that way. "Evening, Chloe. I'm calling because I remember a certain someone told me to ring her in the evening and if she was free, we might go on a date."
"Oh, you actually remembered?" She laughed softly. "I thought you'd be too busy being all director-slash-actor-slash-everyone's favorite person on set."
"Hard to forget something when it involves you," Alex replied without hesitation. "So. Are you free tonight?"
She hesitated for only a second, glancing toward the exit. "Well… Trixy's at her dad's tonight, so technically I could spare a few hours."
"Perfect," he said. "How about dinner?"
"Dinner sounds… doable," she said, her tone teasing.
"I'll pick you up at 7:30. Just send me your address."
Chloe chuckled. "Trying to find out where I live, Mr. Wilson? Should I be worried?"
"You should be," Alex said in mock seriousness. "I might show up with flowers. Or a kidnapping plan."
She rolled her eyes, grinning even though he couldn't see it. "You'd need a better getaway car than your eye-catching sports car."
"You underestimate my resources," he said, and there was that low, confident laugh again. "Text me the address. I'll be there."
"Alright. I'll meet you at 7:30."
"Great. See you in a bit."
She hung up and stood there for a moment, her smile lingering. It had been a long time since a conversation had left her feeling light like that. She headed straight to the parking lot while texting him her address, her steps quickening without her meaning to.
...
[Chloe's apartment]
Chloe's apartment smelled faintly of lavender from the diffuser she had left running that morning. She dropped her keys in the bowl by the door, kicked off her shoes, took off her clothes, and went straight to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the space as she twisted the taps, steam curling upward in lazy spirals.
She sank into the tub, letting the warmth wrap around her like a soft blanket. The heat eased the tightness in her shoulders, melting away the day's fatigue. She tilted her head back against the rim, eyes half-closed.
It had been a long time since she'd done this—really taken her time before meeting someone. Even longer since the anticipation made her chest feel light.
When her divorce with Dan was finalized, she threw herself into her LAPD work and her daughter's needs, leaving no room for thoughts about her own happiness. Nights were spent finishing reports or folding laundry, not daydreaming about dates or dressing up for anyone. Men came and went in her peripheral vision, none ever worth slowing down for.
But Alex…
She remembered the restaurant shootout vividly. The shock of gunfire, the chaos, the weight of certainty that they might not make it out alive. And the kiss with Alex before he stepped out from cover with nothing but a wine bottle in his hand like some cinematic hero. In the space of a breath, he had taken them all down.
It was ridiculous, the way that moment replayed in her head even now, sparking heat under her skin. He had looked so effortlessly dangerous, so utterly in control.
'So sexy,' She thought as she touched her lips for a moment.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she opened her eyes. Her gaze went down to her pubes.
"Humm... Should I trim it a bit? Not that I'm expecting to have sex with him on our first date. Haha..." She let a little laugh. "If this goes well, maybe I'll start to take care of myself a bit more. So, yeah. Why not start with tonight? Like it's no big deal. One must maintain proper hygiene. Yeah, that's it... Hygiene."
She stood, water running in rivulets down her skin, and reached for the small grooming kit tucked in the cabinet. A few precise minutes later, she admired her work in the mirror above the sink. A neat landing strip. Simple and classic.
Satisfied, she wiped her body and stepped into the bedroom, and stopped in front of the large mirror by the wall. She stood there naked. Her reflection felt like a stranger she was slowly reintroducing herself to. She wasn't twenty anymore, but she does yoga and occasionally hits the gym to stay in shape. She cupped her boobs and squeezed them a bit; they were nice and firm. Then she ran her fingers over her well-toned flat tummy. Then she turned around and looked at her butt cheeks. She gave them a little jiggle just for fun and chuckled to herself.
Chloe raised an eyebrow with a smirk, "Well, still got it."
Then, she walked to the wardrobe and flung open the doors.
The choices stared back at her. Black silk slip dress? Too daring. Navy wrap dress? Classy, but maybe a little too safe. The red off-shoulder? Definitely bold, maybe too much for a first proper date. She pulled each one out in turn, holding it against herself in the mirror. The pile on the bed grew.
The problem was simple. She wanted to impress him without looking like she was trying too hard. Something that said she was confident in her skin but didn't scream for attention.
She tried the black silk. The fabric clung in all the right places, the deep V neckline drawing the eye without being vulgar. But she frowned. It felt like a cocktail party dress, not a dinner date choice.
The navy wrap dress made her feel elegant, the kind of look that whispered rather than shouted. But when she turned in the mirror, she realized it also made her feel a little older than she wanted to project tonight.
The red off-shoulder, though… She slipped it on, feeling the way the color lit her skin, the way the fabric hugged her waist. Her reflection smiled back at her before she could stop it. Yes. This had the right energy. Not too much, not too little.
Decision made, she hung the other dresses back and laid the red one neatly on the bed.
She sat down at her vanity, flipping open the small makeup case. She wasn't going for heavy coverage—she wanted to look like herself, just more refined. A light layer of foundation evened her skin tone. A touch of bronzer warmed her cheeks. She blended a soft smoky brown along her eyelids, deep enough to make her eyes pop but still natural.
She leaned closer to apply eyeliner, steady hand tracing the smooth line. A few coats of mascara fanned her lashes. She considered a bold lip but decided on a muted rose instead, just glossy enough to catch the light.
Her hair was next. She blow-dried it into loose waves that framed her face, running her fingers through them for a slightly tousled, effortless look. She studied the effect from a few angles, tucking one side behind her ear.
Finally, she slipped into the red dress. She paired it with black heels that added just enough height. Then she put on a delicate silver necklace and earrings.
Chloe took one last look in the mirror.
It had been years since she'd dressed up for anyone, but tonight, she felt ready.
...
[7:30 PM]
The doorbell rang.
Chloe took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, and opened the door.
Alex stood there in a dark suit jacket over an open-collared shirt, hands in his pockets. For a moment, he didn't move, his eyes tracing from her heels up to her smile like he was taking in a painting.
Then he grinned. "You know… I was going to tell you that you look amazing, but that would be like telling the sun it's doing a good job shining. Feels redundant."
Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "That's the most over-the-top compliment I've had in a long time."
"Over-the-top maybe," Alex said, still smiling, "but accurate." He stepped aside and gestured toward the curb. "Your chariot awaits."
Parked at the edge of the street was a green Aston Martin, the kind of car that looked like it belonged in a spy movie.
Chloe raised an eyebrow as they walked toward it. "So this is your subtle getaway vehicle?"
"Tonight I'm taking you on a date," Alex said as he opened the passenger door for her. "Thus, the nice car. If I ever plan to kidnap you, then I promise to bring a mini white van."
She smiled as she went in and strapped on the seat belt.
Alex took the driver's seat and drove off.
On the way, conversation flowed easily—small stories about their week, little jokes about the chaos of film sets and Chloe's work at the LAPD.
They arrived at a quiet, low-lit Italian restaurant tucked between two tall buildings. Inside, the space was warm and inviting, with candles flickering on every table. The host greeted Alex, leading them to a table by the window where the city lights glittered in the distance.
The waiter approached their table, his notepad ready. Alex gave him a polite nod.
"Bring us the best wine you have," Alex asked. "Something red, smooth, and worth remembering."
"Of course, sir," the waiter replied with a small smile before stepping away.
Chloe leaned her elbows lightly on the table. "Do you just say that in every restaurant and hope for the best?"
Alex chuckled. "Only when I'm with someone I want to impress. Besides, good wine makes everything better. Conversation, food... Even bad jokes."
"I'll be the judge of that," she said, smirking. "So far you're batting… okay."
"Okay?" He raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I opened with the sun compliment. That's at least a home run."
"That was so over-the-top it looped back around into charming," Chloe admitted, her smile softening.
The waiter returned with a bottle of wine and poured for each of them, and left.
Alex raised his glass slightly.
"To… a night with no explosions or gunfire," he said.
Chloe tapped her glass lightly against his. "To something normal."
They each took a sip. The wine was velvety and rich, lingering on the tongue.
"Okay," she said, setting her glass down. "That is good."
"Told you," Alex said, leaning back slightly. "So, how about we start this from the beginning, since our steak dinner back then got ruined?"
"Okay," She said as she slightly leaned back. "I'd like that."
Alex swirled the wine in his glass, eyes still on her. "Alright. Let's pretend we're meeting for the first time. I'm Alex Wilson. I'm the owner of Titan Studios. I make movies and write books. And occasionally I get caught in shootouts. And you are?"
She laughed. "I'm Chloe Decker. I work for the LAPD, I'm a mom, and I occasionally have dinner with dangerous men in expensive suits."
"Dangerous?" He raised an eyebrow, amused. "That's the first impression you had of me?"
"Not exactly. My first thought after seeing you at that bar was… How the hell is he drinking that much and not getting drunk? Then after we talked... I thought you were confident and a little cocky. After that, during the attack, when you saved us, you looked dangerously se... I mean, dangerous."
He nodded, accepting it. "Fair. And my first impression of you… was that like, why the hell is that group of girls sneaking a peek at me? Then, when we talked, I kinda liked your confidence. And during the attack, when you were worried about your daughter and the civilians at the same time... It's kinda hard to put it into words, but all I can say is that you are a great mother and a great cop. I think it was around that moment I might have fallen for you."
Chloe's heart was pounding as she lowered her hands and began fidgeting her fingers.
"Might?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," He nodded as he took a sip of wine. "Let's go on a few dates and get to know each other. Then we'll see."
Her eyes warmed at that. "Not bad for a first round of introductions."
Alex smiled. "Better than talking about the weather."
She rested her chin lightly on her hand. "So if this is our first date all over again, what's your plan? Impress me with outrageous stories? Or charm me with that smug grin until I forget you haven't told me much about yourself?"
"I could," he said, tilting his head, "but I'd rather hear about you. What's Chloe like when she's not at work or chasing her kid around?"
She thought for a moment. "I read a lot. Cook when I have the time. And I'm good at trivia nights."
"Trivia nights?" He smirked. "That sounds like a challenge."
"You wouldn't win," she said, taking a sip of her wine.
"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I'd make you laugh trying."
Her smile lingered as she set her glass down. The waiter returned, menus in hand. They both glanced over them, making small comments about a few dishes until Chloe closed hers.
"I'm getting the mushroom risotto," she decided.
"Good choice," Alex said. "I'll have the Bucatini Carbonara."
The waiter took their menus and left.
"So," Chloe leaned forward slightly, "Tell me something about you. What do you do when you aren't making movies?"
"I paint, play guitar, or sometimes just sit on the balcony and relax with some nice classical music," Alex replied.
"Interesting. I didn't see that coming," Chloe said, tilting her head. She looked interested. "You don't exactly give off starving artist vibes."
"That's because it's just a hobby and something I like to enjoy from time to time," he replied with a playful smirk. "But if you ever see my penthouse, you might notice the walls are… full."
"Full?"
"Covered. Canvases everywhere. It's like living in my own art gallery—only half of it I'm still not sure is worth showing anyone."
"I'd like to see them sometime," she said before she could second-guess it.
His eyes softened at that. "I'd like that too."
Their food arrived, and for a few minutes, the conversation paused in favor of aromas and first bites. The risotto was creamy and the carbonara rich without being heavy. Alex watched Chloe take her first bite, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"What?" she asked.
"Just enjoying the view," he said casually, before lifting his fork again.
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed.
As dinner went on, the conversation flowed easily through travel stories, their most embarrassing moments, and a lighthearted debate about the best pasta shape. Chloe found herself laughing more than she expected.
When the plates were cleared, Alex leaned back. "Dessert?"
"I shouldn't," she said automatically.
"That's not a no."
She hesitated, then grinned. "Fine. Surprise me."
He ordered tiramisu for two, and when it arrived, they shared it straight from the center plate, trading playful jabs about who was getting the bigger bites.
Eventually, the check came. Alex paid even though Chloe wanted to split it.
...
[Chloe's apartment]
The car eased to a stop in front of Chloe's apartment. The street was quiet, the soft hum of the engine fading as Alex turned the key and the headlights blinked off.
He stepped out first, rounding the car to open her door. Chloe smiled faintly as she took his hand to get out, the cool night air brushing against her skin.
They walked toward the entrance, their steps slow, neither seeming eager for the night to end. At the door, Chloe leaned lightly against the frame and gave him a sidelong glance.
"You know," she said with a teasing lilt, "a guy like you… running a big studio, looking like that, pulling up in a car like this… you've probably got, what? Five girlfriends? Six? So why are you wasting time on a single mom who's a cop and older than you?"
Alex didn't miss a beat. "You really want the truth?"
Her brow arched. "Try me."
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