“Is this too much?” I asked as I stepped from the hallway and into the bedroom where Olivia and Aleah were literally playing cards on the floor. Olivia looked up at me and let her eyes wander up and down my outfit; it was a strappy dress that came down to just above my knees.

“For a first date? With Shawn Derringer? Girl he’s lucky to be in your presence, you should just wear a t-shirt,” Olivia snorted at me and went back to her hand.

“Or a burlap sack,” Aleah laughed.

“Okay, first of all,” I lectured and pointed at Oliva. “You don’t get to judge anyone on their taste in men. And you, a burlap sack? Please, that is SO last fall.”

Olivia shot me a dirty look. She should have expected it after her boyfriend beat the living crap out of Audrey in a public bathroom. She still wouldn’t leave him.

“Speaking of which,” I interjected to break the silence. “Has anyone seen Audrey since the chocolate syrup thing? I need to give her that stupid packet.”

“It’s not STUPID,” Aleah said. I couldn’t tell if her seriousness was exaggerated or if she was actually offended. “It’s Les Miserables, and it is a very important part of French culture.”

“You literally just heard about it yesterday.”

“Les…what?” Olivia asked quizzically. I guess I could make a crack about theater not being her forte but you know what? It wasn’t mine either really. Or at all.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Aleah promised. “Oh, and uh…Audrey should be around the house tomorrow.”

“How do you know that?” I wondered.

“We have her doing some chores around the house,” Aleah shrugged.

“More slave labor?” I turned to the vanity mirror and inspected my lipstick.

“No we hired her to replace the house boy…you know, the one who was supposed to be mowing the lawn for us?”

“Hope she doesn’t quit then,” I said. “The last one was SO unreliable.”

“He wasn’t unreliable,” Olivia said. “You screamed at him for an hour because he got grass on your car.”

“An hour he got paid for,” I said defensively.

“I don’t know why you’re going on this date,” Aleah said. “He’s the president of DEM, he’s just going to use you somehow.”

“He’s kind of cute,” I shrugged. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt us to have an ‘in’ over there, would it?”

“What is this, a royal wedding?” Olivia laughed.

“AGAIN,” I said to her. “Talk to me when you take out your own garbage, okay?”

If she hadn’t been wearing enough foundation to open her own Sephora, she probably would have been turning ten shades of red.
I felt my phone buzz in my hand. He was outside.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go,” I said. “Take care of the house for me.”

“Hey, Tiffany,” Aleah called out to me as I turned to go.

“Yeah?”

“Have you thought about what I asked?”

“About what?” I asked innocently.

“You know what,” She said. “I need a vice president.”

“Don’t think it’s for me,” I shrugged. “I got a lot of my plate.”

“Just think about it, okay?” She was desperate, it seemed.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Promise,” She stared at me intently.

“Promise,” I nodded as I turned and exited the room.

I walked downstairs and past the couch, throwing open the front door and walking down the steps. The first thing I noticed was that the lawn had finally been mowed, the second was the really, really impressive Ford Mustang sitting in front of the house. It would have been perfect if not for Shawn leaning against it as if he were someone. You know, other than the president of DEM, and probably living on his dad’s spare change, which was a huge hunk of change, don’t get me wrong. Looking at him, I immediately felt overdressed. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt and khaki pants, like he was going out for a few drinks at a country club instead of on a date. With me. Wow, I suddenly felt undervalued.

“Hey there,” I waved with a slight smile.

“Hi,” He said. I tried to figure out if he was nervous. He should have been, dressed like that. “You look amazing,” He said, mentally drooling already.

“I know,” I said matter of factly and walked right past him, around the car and stood at the passenger side of the vehicle, looking at him expectantly. He didn’t waste any time walking around and holding open the door for me. I ducked into the car, smoothing my skirt out beneath me as I settled into the posh leather seat. The inside of his car was clean, sterile almost. Mine was pretty clean too but I would have been embarrassed for him to see it.

“So,” He said settling into the driver’s seat and shifting the car into gear. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking a GAT girl out. Word the street is you’re the toughest sorority on campus.”

I smirked.

“Is that what they’re saying?” I said. “Well you’d better watch out then.”

“I guess I’d better,” He laughed.

We drove in silence for a few minutes; we’d planned this date weeks ago but I guess neither one of us really had anything to say.
“So um…what do sororities do…all day?” He asked. Seriously? That was his ice breaker?

“Well what do you guys do all day?” I quipped, trying to sound cute.

“I guess…go to class and do guy stuff,” He laughed.

“Kinda the same thing,” I grinned. “But you know, more girly.”

We pulled up to a restaurant, it was one of the nice ones. Hazelrod’s. A five star establishment, if I remembered correctly. My family was well off, but definitely not well off enough to eat a restaurant that served a $200 steak. He was really trying to impress. He wasted no time stepping out of the car, walking to my side and holding the door open for me. A perfect gentleman I guess. Time would tell if there was anything else to him. I didn’t bother thanking him as I stepped out. No point in saying ‘thanks’ for something he was supposed to do. I simply rose from the seat and strode past him, my heels clicking against the sidewalk. I could feel him staring at me.

“Mr. Derringer,” The waiter said as we walked into the restaurant. “We have your reservation, please, this way.”

This place was everything I would have expected, honestly. Oak wall panels, hold fixtures, very old-timey. We walked through a dining room that was mostly empty, all of the tables covered in pristine white tablecloths with place settings. Crystal glasses sat upside down on each table, waiting for someone to sit. I shouldn’t have been surprised; this was the middle of the afternoon; a weird time for a date really, but it was Saturday, so why not?

We didn’t sit at one of the tables in the dining room; he’d reserved some private space off in the back. Semi-private, anyway. It was this quaint little covered area with a noise divider, perfect for a private conversation in an empty restaurant.

“May I start you off with something to drink?” The waiter inquired.

“I’d like a bottle of the house wine,” Shawn said. Was he old enough to drink? I sure wasn’t.

“Are you sure?” The waiter raised an eyebrow. Shawn paused for a moment, pondering.

“Pick one for me,” He said finally.

“As you wish, sir,” He turned to me. “and for you?”

“I’ll...um…” I had no idea what to order at a place like this.

“She’ll have what I’m having,” Shawn said smoothly.

“Very good,” The waiter said as he strode off, not even writing anything down.

“Are you old enough to drink?” I teased. He laughed.

“Of course not,” He said. “But my dad owns this place.”

“You brought me to a place your dad owns?”

“What can I say, I get a discount.”

Strike one.

“So tell me,” I said, as I started to find him a lot less cute than when I’d asked him out. “What does the DEM president do all day?”
“Well,” He said, placing his hands on the table and leaning in. “You know, the same things yours GATs but…you know…manlier.”
I chuckled. That was kind of funny, I had to admit.

“We lost a pledge, though. Not the first time, but at least it didn’t happen during a hazing this time.”

“Lost a pledge?” I smirked. “Did you misplace him?”

He suddenly leaned back in his chair, a perplexed look crossing his face as the waiter returned with the bottle and two glasses. I watched as the bottle was put on ice, the wine poured and the waiter disappeared.

“Weirdest thing, actually,” He said to me as he began to browse the menu. “He made it past rush, pledged and everything but…he just never showed up to the first meeting. I haven’t had that happened before.”

“Well not everyone is cut out for Greek life,” I shrugged and tilted my head.

“I guess, but it means we’re down a pledge and I’m kind of pissed.”

“Who was it? Maybe I’ve seen him around.”

“Uh…some guy named Todd,” I nearly spit out the wine I’d been sipping.

“Todd, huh,” I said. “Weird name.”

“That’s…really not weird,” Shawn said. “What’s weird is he never showed up. Anyway, what do you think about spaghetti?”

“Not really my thing, honestly,” I said. “They have this parmesan chicken, though.”

“That they do,” He nodded in agreement.

“So what else does your family do, besides own this restaurant?” I asked, genuinely curious, and trying to put Audrey out of my mind.

“Well, I mean, you’re from here,” He said, raising both eyebrows. “So you kinda have an idea.”

“Your dad has his hands in everything, yeah.”

“You could say that.”

The waiter came back, we ordered. He got the spaghetti, I got the parmesan chicken. Two different tastes I guess.

“So your father,” He said to me after the waiter had left. “He has his hands in a few things too I hear.”
I nodded.

“He’s the CFO of some big company, you know.”

“Some big company, that’s what you’re calling it.”

“They make cars,” I shrugged. He laughed a bit.

“One of the top automakers in the United States, that’s not something to shrug at. Those profit margins are really up from last year.”

“Is this what you do?” I grinned, taking a sip of my wine. “Do you research your date’s dad before you take them out?”

He laughed a little and said, jokingly, I hope. “Well, I’ve gotta see what kind of genetic material I’m working with.”

I smiled and nodded.

“Well cheers to that,” I raised my glass a bit in a faux gesture and took another sip. “I hope you like what you’re working with.”

“We’ll see.”

I smiled and pulled out my phone as I apologized for being rude and shot a text off to Audrey: GAT house, 6 PM. It definitely wasn’t a suggestion.