The adventurous cream dress

"Fuck it," Brooke finally said, grabbing the cream dress and putting the others back in her wardrobe. Putting the white showstopper back was especially painful - she had never even worn it. Then again ... it wasn't really her style. Sure, it would look amazing, but she wasn't the type to draw that kind of attention. No, the cream was definitely the right choice for her.

Just as she finished applying a finishing touch to her lipstick, her doorbell rang. Suddenly breathless, Brooke slipped on her high heels and trotted to the intercom. As she passed the bathroom, the door opened and her flatmate Saara poked her head out, hair dripping from the shower. "Is that him?"

"Yeah." Even on the small screen, the sight of Cameron made her heart flutter. She pressed the button for the intercom. "Hey," she said. "I'll be right down, but I'll, uh, let you into the lobby and meet you there?"

"Okay," Cameron said.

Pushing the button on the intercom to let him into the building, Brooke grabbed her handbag, checked that she had her keys, phone, wallet, and emergency tampons.

"Knock him dead," Saara smiled.

"Thanks," Brooke said. "See you later."

"See you tomorrow," Saara corrected.

Brooke crossed her fingers and hurried out into the lift. Glancing at herself in the lift's mirror, she finally admired her choice of dress. It was raunchy enough to show that she was making an effort without going overboard.

The lift dinged, and as soon as she stepped out, she was met by Cameron's charming smile even as his eyes roamed her body. "You look ... amazing," he said, stepping towards her.

Brooke appraised his outfit - an elegant purple shirt and a well-tailored jacket. "You too," she said, forcing the words out of her lips and trying not to sound like a sycophant.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to greet each other, before Cameron offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he asked, with that well-practiced, seemingly effortless charm. Brooke knew better, though. After all, she had seen him after enough board meetings to know that that really meant he was nervous.

She took his arm and smiled, trying to put him at ease. "So, where are we going?" Brooke asked as he led her out onto the street and into the waiting taxi, which hummed quietly.

"A Moroccan restaurant just around the corner," he said. "They do a brilliant falafel and rice dish ... well, I guess that's what you'd expect ... but they also do - you know what, I'll let you read the menu and decide."

Brooke laughed. "Okay."

As promised, the drive was barely two minutes, and they stepped out and straight into the restaurant. Instantly, the rich smell of intermingling spices hit her nose, and she breathed it in deeply. Brooke had been here once before, for a friend's birthday, but it was well outside her usual price range.

The waitress led them upstairs to a window table overlooking the street, and as they sat down, Brooke noticed that he was just as flustered as she was, ordering a bottle of white wine with a slight stutter.

Watching the waitress leave, Brooke tried to break the ice. "So, what do I call you now, sir?" she asked, a playful smile on her lips. "Cameron? Babe?" She leaned over the table and whispered quietly, "Daddy?"

Cameron burst out laughing, his dark eyes twinkling. "How about 'Master'?"

Brooke giggled. "Hmm ... that would indicate a somewhat lopsided power balance in this relationship, which might not be the best starting point."

"And 'Daddy' doesn't?" he smirked.

She conceded his point as the wine arrived. "Cheers," she said, clinking her glass against his. Perusing the menu, she asked, "So, is this the sort of date where you know the owner of the restaurant, like in those old romance movies from the noughties?"

Cameron chuckled. "No, I haven't got a clue who they are. I know one of the sous-chefs, though, if that counts? She's my friend's niece."

"Yeah, close enough," Brooke said, looking into his eyes. She bit her lip and resumed reading the menu.

The starters came and went as they chatted about mundane subjects like the weather, the recent resurgence of chauffeurs over self-driving cars, and the elections. Halfway through the main course, however, Cameron turned the conversation to more personal matters.

"Okay, so we know each other fairly well. You've been working for me for ... what, seven months?" he asked. Brooke smiled, impressed by his memory. "But I still don't know you. What do you geek out over?"