Jason, the Elite Private Security CEO, arrived back at his immaculate Aethel City apartment late that night. He bypassed his routine, standing in the middle of his living room, replaying the evening's events.
He hadn't felt this disoriented or delighted since closing his first major security contract a decade ago.
The scent of Alicia's sophisticated fragrance still lingered on his linen shirt, a quiet reminder of their brief, warm hug. He was determined not to let the pressure of his high-stakes profession—or the relentless seven-day clock—ruin this rare, genuine connection.
Knowing the inevitable barrage of calls, he preemptively switched off his phone. He needed no interruption; he had earned this private moment.
Alicia's confession—that she was completely new to dating—had completely changed his perception of the formidable woman. She was not just a beautiful challenge, but an emotionally vulnerable one, which made her all the more compelling.
*****
Alicia, too, found an unusual calm. After a long, hot shower, she dropped onto her bed and followed Jason's example, silencing her phone. Lucy and Kristen's frantic interrogation could wait.
Reflecting on the date, she noted it was far less disastrous than expected. Her initial choice of a simple dinner, the Grilled Salmon, had surprisingly hit Jason's weak spot.
More importantly, the warmth of the hug lingered, promising a thaw in her years of emotional coldness.
.
.
.
She finally woke slightly late, the internal alarm of her military conditioning failing, though her digital clock showed an already reasonable 6:30 AM.
After her intense morning regimen, she reluctantly powered on her cell phone. The expected flood of ten missed calls—five from each friend—appeared instantly. Before she could even initiate the counter-attack, the phone rang again.
She answered without checking the display.
"Guys, I am not in the..."
"Mood," Jason's voice finished her sentence smoothly.
"Oh, sorry. I thought it was my friends," Alicia stammered, a slight, involuntary flush rising to her cheeks.
She was instantly alert, military precision returning, but overlaid with a new, feminine excitement.
"How are you doing?" He asked.
"I'm doing great. And you?" she managed.
"Same. Since today is Day Two of the seven, the planning and logistics fall to me," Jason said, his professional, decisive tone returning.
"I'll pick you up at two."
"Will you?" She corrected herself immediately.
"I mean, that sounds... lovely."
A familiar, confusing silence stretched between them. Jason, accustomed to commanding boardrooms and elite security teams, felt his script fail when talking to her.
Alicia, trained for combat and strategy, felt a crippling inability to make simple conversation.
"Alicia," Jason prompted.
"Huh..." she snapped back to attention.
"I know you prefer things planned, but I promise this will be worth it. No cooking, no cleaning, just you being you. I want you to step away from all the complexity of your life for an afternoon," he said, gently suggesting she relax her guard.
"Yeah, feel free," she replied, injecting a manufactured casualness into her voice.
"I am the security type, remember? I like to keep things secure and private," Jason replied, a playful reference to his role as a high-profile CEO.
Alicia stifled a laugh, a rare sound. "You sound like Chris."
"I assure you, I am far more charming than Chris," Jason said, laughing openly.
"Just be ready at two, Alicia. I'll handle the rest."
He was taking control. Alicia felt herself relinquishing a sliver of her carefully guarded autonomy, and instead of fear, she felt anticipation.
"Bye, I'll see you at two." She hung up, preferring a sharp exit to a lingering, awkward conversation.
She quickly conferenced with her friends.
"Finally, something hit that head of yours to call," Kristen announced instantly.
"He liked the Grilled Salmon," Alicia reported, skipping the preamble.
"I knew it!" Kristen shouted. "Jeez, next time, leave your phone on! I need to know all the juicy details!"
"I'm keeping my phone off, Kristen, and you're not getting details now. He's taking me out at two."
"Where?" Lucy demanded.
"He won't tell me. It's classified." Alicia smirked, enjoying the dramatic secrecy. She then hung up, knowing she had successfully ignited their curiosity.
Jason arrived precisely at 2:00 PM. He was dressed in tailored slacks and a sharp blazer—formal enough for his status, casual enough for a date. He was waiting by the passenger door when Alicia emerged.
She stopped him dead in his tracks. Alicia wore a sophisticated blue cocktail dress with tiny silver accents that glittered with every movement. It was modern, elegant, and perfectly showcased her incredible form.
"Exquisite," he murmured, genuinely breathless.
"Hi," she greeted, walking toward him with newfound confidence.
"Hi," he repeated, reaching for her.
Jason quickly wrapped a hand around her waist, and before she could brace herself, he gave her a swift, warm peck on both cheeks. Alicia, recalling his previous hug, returned the simple gesture easily.
"You look amazing," she complimented him.
"I slept soundly last night, thanks to a very good date," he admitted, his eyes holding hers.
"As did I," she winked, and he led her to the car.
Jason drove them to a highly exclusive, private dining establishment in the cultural district of Aethel City. The venue was secure, discreet, and expensive—a perfect reflection of his status as an Elite Security CEO.
The hostess led them directly to a secluded table. The staff were professional, discreet, and did not recognise Alicia, which suited her perfectly.
"I never knew a man in your line of work would frequent such a quiet place," Alicia observed once seated.
"Privacy is my greatest luxury, Alicia," Jason replied, leaning forward.
"This place provides impeccable security and even better food."
When the waiter arrived, Jason smiled. "We'll both have the Filet Mignon with Rosemary Butter and Creamed Spinach, please."
"Filet Mignon? You seem to have a preference for classic, powerful choices," Alicia remarked, amused.
"Only the best, Alicia. I assumed a woman who can grill salmon that perfectly also appreciates quality protein."
.
.
.
They settled into comfortable conversation, discussing everything except their most closely guarded secrets. Jason talked about the challenges of protecting high-value clients and anticipating threats in Aethel City.
"I'd love to meet the woman who owns Alicia Kara Enterprises someday," Jason mentioned casually over their coffee.
"Her enterprise is worth billions of Apex, yet she maintains complete anonymity. She's a logistical genius."
"She sounds very private," Alicia agreed, barely suppressing a smile. She was enjoying this delicate game of hidden identities.
Later, as they walked out into the cool evening air, Jason draped his jacket over her shoulders. The black wool provided a stark contrast to the blue fabric of her dress.
.
.
At her front door, Alicia was preparing her formal "thank you."
"Thanks for tonight," she said.
"Tomorrow is Day Three," he reminded her.
"The challenge continues."
As they stood admiring each other, the space between them seemed to crackle with unresolved tension.
"Alicia..."
Jason didn't speak the rest of her name. His lips met hers in a soft, questioning peck.
Alicia instantly pulled back, her internal alarms momentarily screaming.
"Did I do something wrong?" Jason asked, concern etched on his face.
She shook her head, unable to speak. Jason took her face in his hands, closing the gap, and kissed her again. This time, it was longer, bolder. Alicia's hands moved to his powerful chest.
He kissed her with deliberate slowness, aware of how new this was for her. He tasted the sweetness of the wine and the lingering sweetness of the Filet Mignon on her lips. His hand cradled her head, while the other secured her waist. His tongue sought hers, gently parting her lips.
Alicia kissed him back with a fierce, surprising intensity. The sensation was overwhelming, electric, shattering the last vestiges of her emotional fortress.
When he finally released her, they were both breathless.
"Good night," she managed, her voice a strained whisper. She handed him back his jacket, her fingers lingering a moment too long.
He smiled, a deep, satisfied grin, and walked away. The date was a success, and the countdown had been momentarily forgotten in the rush of the kiss.