Don't Even Know His Last Name || Corbett and Riyane
thecabaretman
After sending Corbett her address, she couldn't stop herself from chewing on the inside of her lip. She'd been here a year and with no luck in the dating department. That was mostly because she was too busy with work but, now that there was a lull in her job, she was glad an opportunity had arisen.
She was mostly put together. Her hair had been curled, but she pinned it out of her face while letting most of the curls tumble around her shoulders. Her clothing choice was easy. She slid herself into a skintight, black dress with lace caps for sleeves and simple red heels to match. The look was subtle and classic without being too modest and she almost made herself blush when she looked at herself in the mirror.
"Get your shit together, Verday. No one likes a girl with two left feet." She inhaled deeply and smoothed her hands against the fabric before grabbing a gold clutch and a black leather jacket off her vanity table. She had her ID (which she would need because no one ever believed she was 22) as well as her phone and money for dinner. She felt like Corbett would try to be a gentleman, but she had invited him out to dinner. She would be paying for the meal.
Giving herself one last look, she heard the buzz of the intercom and knew Corbett must have already been in the lobby. Once she was out of her apartment, she took the elevator down. She silently gave herself a pep talk as she made her way down to him.
When the door open, she stepped out and smiled. "I didn't think you would be so tall." She jested to hide her nervous, laughing slightly. "Are you up for a walk?"
