Part 2: Always Make a First Impression

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Once Bryce Finley reaches the last few steps of the stairway, he nearly trips, catching himself on the rail, completely distracted by seeing a woman he hopes is his date. Bryce looks around; partly because he is making sure no one else noticed he nearly tripped down the stairs and also to see if any other women are waiting. Only one. He looks at her again with curiosity. He can tell that she is nervous by the way her hands are stuffed into the back pockets of her dark jeans, and her eyes scanning the room but somehow skipping over him. She is rocking slightly back and forth on her tennis shoes, not enough to draw attention, but enough motion for him to catch, which causes him to smile. He hopes she is his date. He decides to try his luck, and pray he is right.

As he approaches her, she doesn't seem to notice, but his employee does. The young boy backs off as if Bryce is going to yell at him to get back to work, which he wouldn't have done anyway. When he gets close enough, he sees her ears twitch slightly with the sound of approaching feet. He watches as she stills all motion except the rise and fall of her taking a deep breath. "Chelsea?" He questions softly, knowing she can hear him. He feels himself hold his own breath, praying she will reveal herself to be his blind date. Her head turns in his direction and her dark honey eyes lock on to his. His entire world falls still. She is beautiful, in the most simple and adorable way possible. She is shorter than him by nearly a foot, her eyes are playful and haunting, and her lips dare him to make a move, though he won't.

While Bryce's mind runs wild, Chelsea's own mind starts to register her mysterious date. His black hair falls a little shaggy, but in no way looks bad in her opinion. A few strands are long enough to hit just under his eyebrows, drawing attention to his dark grey eyes. His chin holds stubble, and his ears stick out ever so slightly. He is dressed similar to herself, in the casual way. She is glad he isn't in a suit, or even a nice blazer. His charcoal black shirt buttons up in the front, and he left it untucked. She thought back to what her friend had called him. Good looking, was it? No, he was more than that. He was handsome, in his own slightly dorky, awkward way. "You must be Bryce." She greets shyly.

"I am." He replies, holding out a hand for her to shake. She hesitantly takes it, a small smile forming on her lips. They stand there for a moment, hand in hand, before they realize they are still touching, to which they both draw back awkwardly. Chelsea wonders when the last time she has felt this awkward and wonders what he must think of her. In his own mind, Bryce wonders the same thing. After another few seconds, he offers his arm for her to take. "Shall we?" He asks politely, to which she nods, taking his arm. He leads her to one of the front booths, with a clear view of the band, and the dance floor. After they order, there is a few minutes of awkward silence, but neither of them seem to want to be the first to say something. Chelsea shifts slightly, not wanting to meet his gaze, though she can feel his eyes on her, watching her and studying her. Bryce is amused and intrigued by her, so he patiently waits for her to talk.

It works like a charm. She sighs, and finally meets his gaze. "Um...I think my friend is having her rehearsal dinner and reception here, now that I think about it." She remarks casually, glancing around again.

Bryce smiles, and gave a nod, which causes her to look at him again. "Indeed it is." He can't help but ask himself how much they told her about him.

"I wonder what made her chose this place." She responds back, trying to keep the conversation going. She hates awkward silence, but her own dislike of conversation often puts her right in the middle of awkward silence.

"She is pretty close with the owner." He reveals with a shrug, but Chelsea sees that he is hinting toward something. She has always been good at reading between the lines.

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