Chapter 567 David's Mask
In the upscale restaurant, soft ambient lighting created an elegant atmosphere while a subtle fragrance lingered in the air.
The man wore an impeccably tailored suit with a silk tie, exuding confidence and composure. His handsome features were sharply defined, with an air of maturity and experience that drew admiring glances from other diners.
Yet there was one flaw that marred his otherwise perfect appearance—he walked with a noticeable limp.
David settled into his chair across from a woman, offering her a warm smile. "Ms. Bennett, pleasure to meet you. I'm David, your blind date for this evening."
His gaze was soft and sincere, and in those eyes, Calliope caught a fleeting glimpse of the quiet kindness and unwavering integrity that seemed to define him.
What infuriated her, however, was that her family had set her up with a cripple. Had she really become so desperate that she was reduced to dating someone with a disability? The thought made her blood boil.
She shot David a withering look. "Let's just get this meal over with. I have other commitments."
"Of course. Are there any foods you particularly dislike, Ms. Bennett?" David's voice was soft and incredibly gentle.
David handed her the menu before gracefully pouring her drink and arranging her silverware with practiced ease. Every gesture radiated refinement and unhurried elegance.
"There's plenty I won't eat!" Calliope rolled her eyes, making things difficult on purpose. "I don't want anything too hot or too cold. I can't handle spicy food, but don't give me anything bland, either. And I refuse to eat cilantro, celery, carrots, or anything with onions, ginger, or garlic."
"Understood." David nodded thoughtfully and studied the menu.
Calliope scrutinized David with calculating eyes, as if appraising damaged goods. She was determined to see how long his patience would last.
Several minutes passed, and just as Calliope's irritation was mounting, David finally looked up with a smile as warm as spring sunshine. "I've placed our order, carefully excluding everything you mentioned and asking them to hold all those seasonings. Though I'm not certain the dishes will retain their signature flavors without those ingredients."
"Whatever. It's just food." Calliope's expression flickered with uncertainty.
David nodded graciously. "No worries at all. Give it a try, and if you don't care for the cuisine here, we'll choose a different type of restaurant next time."
Just as the atmosphere threatened to turn pleasant, Calliope complained petulantly, "What kind of place did you choose? This music is so loud—how is anyone supposed to enjoy their meal?"
David raised his hand with a subtle gesture, and the violinist who had been serenading their table immediately withdrew.
"Better now?" David smiled.
Calliope was speechless.
Her expression shifted as panic crept in—she hadn't expected David to accommodate her every whim so readily.
Calliope lifted her water glass, took a sip, then slammed it down on the table with unnecessary force. "What's wrong with the service here? Don't they have any professional standards? This water is stone cold—don't they know to replace it? How am I supposed to drink this? What if it upsets my stomach?"
"The water's too cold?" David signaled the waiter again. "Excuse me, could you please bring the lady some room temperature water?"
"Certainly, sir." The waiter didn't dare meet their eyes as he quickly replaced Calliope's glass.
Calliope's confidence wavered—this wasn't going according to plan at all! Was David truly so desperate for companionship that he'd tolerate even her most unreasonable behavior?
David's gentlemanly conduct caught her completely off guard. He wasn't just courteous to her, but extended the same respect to every member of the wait staff.
Throughout the evening, no matter how unreasonably Calliope treated him or the servers, David remained unflappable. He never showed anger or impatience, simply listened to her complaints with understanding and addressed each concern methodically.
When Calliope criticized her steak as overcooked, David smiled and politely asked the waiter to prepare a fresh one. When she declared the wine subpar, he courteously inquired whether they had a superior vintage available.
Calliope found herself completely bewildered. Coming from wealth and privilege, she was accustomed to temperamental rich kids and nouveau riche social climbers with explosive personalities.
A man like David—well-bred, devastatingly handsome, and emotionally stable—was an extraordinary rarity.
Calliope bit her lip, realizing that her attempts to provoke him had only highlighted his remarkable maturity and composure.
Gradually, almost without realizing it, Calliope's defenses began to crumble. She discovered that David possessed not only striking good looks but also a gentle, considerate nature and a thoughtful intellect.
Their conversation flowed from shared interests to life philosophy, growing increasingly engaging with each exchange.
As they talked, Calliope found herself drawn into David's magnetic gaze, losing herself in those captivating eyes. She cut a piece of her perfectly prepared steak and asked, "Do you believe the most important factor in marriage is being equally matched?"
"Absolutely."
Calliope felt a stab of disappointment—apparently David's gentlemanly behavior stemmed purely from her family's status and her appearance.
But she despised that kind of mercenary arrangement.
David's smile deepened. "Though my definition of 'equally matched' isn't about family background or professional achievements."
Calliope looked at him with curiosity. "Then what is it?"
"Shared dreams and aspirations for a beautiful life together." David's eyes held hers with unwavering sincerity. "As long as our fundamental values align, I believe love can overcome any incompatibility."
Calliope felt her heart skip—his philosophy perfectly mirrored her own!
Her entire perception of David transformed in that moment, and she finally understood her parents' words when they'd introduced him. They'd called him the finest man in the world—kind-hearted, unassuming, so perfect that even God grew jealous and took something away from him.
Calliope's pulse quickened, and she felt an unexpected surge of gratitude for his disability. Without that imperfection, a man this extraordinary would never have been within her reach.
His physical limitation made David's perfection feel genuine and attainable rather than impossibly idealized.
Calliope could hear her heart hammering against her ribs—she was falling for him.
She opened her mouth to speak when David's fork suddenly slipped from his grasp, sending sauce from his steak splattering across his trousers.
David's expression showed genuine chagrin. "My apologies—I was staring rudely. Let me excuse myself to the restroom."
Calliope assumed he'd been distracted by gazing at her and blushed crimson. "Of course, please be careful."
"Thank you for your concern."
David rose slowly and made his way toward the restroom. The moment he turned away, his gentle smile vanished completely, replaced by a cold, calculating expression that would have chilled her to the bone.
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