𝒹𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝒾𝑜𝓇 .•* PATRICK BATEMAN

6. maybe you can sense that our lifestyles are probably comparable

An excessive amount of time went into working on your vanity; doing your hair and putting on just slightly more makeup than you normally would. Your nicest jewelry sparkled, adorning your neck and wrists. The effort going into this date was unprecedented for you, but then again, you'd never been with someone who you felt you had to impress.

Usually, it was the man impressing you.

Patrick's driver arrived at 7 on the dot.  By then, you were nearly jittering.  Sliding into the expensive car had your heart rate spiked, and you could hardly contain the smile as your eyes landed on Patrick waiting for you.

Patrick had a smile plastered on his face as well, all lips. He was dressed up nicely in a dress shirt and pants, his hair slicked back as it would be at work.

"Where to?" his driver asked. He had a driver. His eyes peeked at you in the rear view.

"Dorsia," you replied with a curt smile. "Thank you." You tried not to cringe as the thought crossed your mind to have let Patrick answer.

Patrick examined you closely, most likely taking in your appearance. He nodded to himself, making your nerves spike even worse.

"Is that Chanel No. 5?" he asked as the car began to move. 

"How'd you know?" you asked, your jaw dropping slightly.  It was a popular fragrance for sure but you had no idea Patrick would recognize it by smell.  Nobody ever had.

"My fiancé wears that sometimes," Patrick stated blandly.  "I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Fiancé?" Your eyes widened, failing to meet his gaze as the word caught in your throat. You shifted uncomfortably, dress crinkling.  "I'm not sure if we should be-"

The news didn't sit right with you.  This was a date and you weren't about to be some side piece.  A fight over a man was a battle lost before it began.

Not to mention you didn't really have a nicer perfume - if you didn't wear this one, he certainly wouldn't recognize the next.

"Evelyn," Patrick explained, cutting you off before you could complete the thought.  "Don't worry about it.  The only reason she's not my ex-fiancé is because it's impossible to break up with her."

Evelyn had came up in passing before for sure.  Multiple times, probably, although you were entirely never sure what relevance she had.   'Reluctant fiancé' would not have been your guess.

But girlfriend? Yes.

"How so?" you choked, trying to quell the jealousy nipping at your heart. And you still weren't sure how you even felt about going out knowing he had another.

Outside, skyscrapers flew past.  The driver navigated busy streets flawlessly, merging into the highway. Darkness began to set over the city, a fact you only knew because Patrick was suddenly difficult to look at.

Patrick grumbled, clearly having thought over that exact question a few times before.  "She's deluded herself into believing we're made for each other because our parents are friends and we run in the same social circle. She doesn't take me seriously in the slightest when I tell her I don't care."

"Mmm. Have you tried being blunt?" you suggested. It sounded like he'd been pretty blunt already, but he could be exaggerating. "Maybe she's not getting the hint."

"I've done everything except say 'I cannot fucking stand you'," Patrick replied. There was a smile on his face but the contrast of it to his words made it almost eerie. Humor barely showed in his voice.

"I guess that's an option," you replied, biting your lip slightly. Reading the room had just gotten a whole lot harder. Patrick was less and less linear the more you knew. "I had an ex who used to threaten to tell my friends I told him all these lies about them when I tried to break up with him. At least she's not doing that."