Excerpt from a book I'll never write
He politely pulled my chair back for me. I smiled as I sat down, and he pushed me closer to the dining room table. Everything was perfect. My hours of cooking had paid off; the Alfredo pasta and filet mignon were flawlessly prepared, accompanied by twin glasses of red wine.
My date settled down across from me. “You’ve really outdone yourself. This looks fantastic, better than a restaurant could’ve done.”
I laughed lightly. “And all in the comfort of home. You said you were a wine guy, right?”
“Absolutely. Honestly, you’re embarrassing me now. My past two two dates with you didn’t come close to matching what you’ve done for me. I have to up my game.”
“I suppose so,” I agreed. There wouldn’t be a fourth date.
The jingling bells of my ringtone began to sound, and I quickly took my cell out my pocket. The name that popped up sent a wave of irritation through me. “I’m so sorry, can I take this? My younger sister just got surgery, and my mom’s taking care of her.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Feel free to start without me, maybe try the wine. I have a different bottle, and I wasn’t sure if you’d like this one,” I directed as I walked out of the room.
Once I was out of hearing distance, I answered my call. “I’m almost done, and nothing has went wrong. Have some faith. Come in twenty minutes,” I hissed, hanging up before the person on the other line could even speak.
I returned to see him sipping his glass. “She wanted to buy my little sister her favorite candy and couldn’t remember the name. I thought it was an emergency.”
He chuckled. “Moms will be moms. I love the wine by the way. You have good taste.”
“Thank you,” I said as I sat down again. He would start feeling the effects within a couple of minutes.
I took a longer drink from my own glass. Dealing with my annoying boss later was less painful when buzzed. He and I dug into our food, enjoying light chatter. As I was twirling noodles around my fork, I began to feel lightheaded. It was if my thoughts were being bounced around between thick clouds, not able to form completely. My vision blurred, and I dropped the utensil. It clattered against the plate.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, my head just hurts abit. I have advil in the bathroom; I’ll be right back.” I excused myself, but the act of standing up sent a wave of nausea through my stomach. Forging on, I desperately tried to balance on unsteady legs.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. My date gently spun me around to face him, and he gave me a sweet yet patronizing smile. My feet tingled, growing numb. I couldn’t support my own weight and pitched forward. He caught me, picking me up bridal style. I was too weak to struggle, and I could barely comprehend his next words as he walked through my house towards the back door.
“First rule to poisoning someone, honey: don’t leave your victim alone with what you spiked. Your glasses might just get switched.”