Chapter 13 - THE FIRST DATE WITHOUT A CONTRACT
Their first date took place at a small Italian restaurant in Greenwich Village.
No private dining room.
No bodyguards.
No photographers.
Bennett arrived early.
Clara arrived exactly on time.
He stood.
“You look beautiful.”
She smiled.
“Thank you.”
They ordered pasta.
Shared dessert.
Argued about whether the restaurant's music was too loud.
Bennett discovered Clara loved old bookstores.
Clara discovered Bennett had never learned to cook anything more complicated than scrambled eggs.
“You're a billionaire,” she said.
“That's not a cooking qualification.”
She laughed.
He smiled.
For once, he didn't check his phone.
Didn't discuss quarterly projections.
Didn't ask about contracts.
He simply listened.
After dinner, they walked through Washington Square Park.
Clara looked at him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why me?”
Bennett stopped.
“What do you mean?”
She looked down.
“You could date anyone.”
He considered.
“Clara, I've spent most of my life surrounded by people who told me what I wanted to hear.”
She looked up.
“You were the first person in years who told me I was wrong and didn't seem particularly concerned about the consequences.”
She laughed.
“That's romantic.”
He smiled.
“I'm trying.”
Then his expression softened.
“You're brilliant. You're kind. You're stubborn. And you make me want to be better without ever asking me to pretend I'm someone else.”
Clara's eyes filled.
“Bennett.”
He stepped closer.
“May I kiss you?”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
May you like
He kissed her beneath the park lights.
And for the first time in years, Bennett Caldwell understood that the most important moments in life rarely arrived with a contract.
