The First Date

The First Date

6:38 PM, and Claire was only wearing a watch.

At promptly seven, she was to meet her date before the tram leading toward the main hotel so they could have a nice, intimate dinner.

Perks of running Jurassic World, she supposed.

If only she could figure out what to wear.

What did one wear on a humid night off the coast of Costa Rica? First date, with an ex-Navy man who was training Velociraptors... How should she act around someone so... rugged? Claire blushed as she realized that the glistening muscles and unshaven face were, in fact, features she found attractive, but Claire was used to dating preppy men with Master's degrees and sharp suits. The change of pace felt like a risk, a challenge.

Or maybe it might have been because that pretty, young, blonde intern was starting to take interest, and Claire asked him out as soon as she noticed this. The stunned look on his face showed that maybe she shouldn't have sprung it on him as quickly as the blink of an eye, but he agreed, amused that she'd asked.

Okay, definitely not black undergarments. Black suggested daring, promiscuity, almost.

White suggested purity.

Deep red didn't match her hair.

Beige. But she plucked out the matching pair with cream lace adorning the bra and waistband of her underwear. Classy, but it hinted that she wasn't opposed to that sort of fun.

But no sex on the first date, of course.

After her undergarments were secured in place, Claire straightened her drying hair, hoping the humidity didn't make her bob frizz. It was bad enough that she had been born on the more orange side of the redhead spectrum.

Which made choosing an outfit that much more difficult.

Something immaculate, but edgy. Something that stated her professionalism, but had been had been accessorized with something a little daring. A little black dress stated nothing original, and most colors didn't agree with her pale complexion or, again, her hair. And given that her underwear boasted beige, that color was out of the picture.

6:47. Time to think, fast.

White was a no-go, unless Claire had something to offset it.

Aha.

Black pumps, black boat neck top, white pencil skirt. Accessorize with a delicate chain-link belt and simple platinum necklace. Keep makeup minimalist, and carry around anti-frizz spray in a small white purse for her hair, just in case.

A spritz of Chanel No. 5, and... Perfect. Her date wouldn't be able to resist. Quickly Claire made her way down to their meeting spot—the monorail entrance—and hoped that the park could run without her for its closing hours. Then again, her phone was on hand, just in case, and she had e-mailed her date a copy of what she wanted to do tonight, with a few backups in e-mail and the Notes app.

She needed this date, if only to prove to herself that she still had "game."

--

Board shorts.

He had the audacity to show up for this date in a Henley and board shorts. Granted, it was a warm, humid evening, but Claire could survive in her pumps and skirt. Surely he could have cleaned up.

"Whoa." His eyes widened as he looked her up and down. "Either I'm grossly underdressed, or you're..."

"Overdressed?" Claire forced a smile and handed Owen a printed copy of the itinerary, as she noticed he had completely ignored the e-mails she'd sent him prior.