Chapter 17

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Delilah brushed off the skirt of her O-neck, black dress and looked in the mirror. "Gosh, I hope he likes this outfit," she said quietly with a small sigh.

Just then, there was a soft knock on her door, which interrupted her thoughts. With another sigh, which she immediately answered.

"Hi," Ella grinned. "You look pretty."

"Thanks," Delilah said with a nervous little smile. "Do you think you could braid my hair?"

Ella nodded. "Have a seat. Is your curling iron in here?"

"Yes, it is. Would you like me to plug it in?" Delilah asked as she sat down at her vanity.

Ella nodded and pulled up a step stool behind her sister's chair, hopping on. "I want it to heat up while I braid."

"Okay," Delilah nodded as she reached over and plugged the curling iron's cord into the outlet. "Done."

"Perfect," Ella smiled as she quickly ran a brush through her older sister's hair. After making sure it was perfectly smooth, Ella separated out a section on the left side of Delilah's head, which she then split into three and began to braid. Carefully, she folded the piece on the right side under the middle strand, and did the same with the lock of hair on the left, repeating the process until the braid reached the middle of her sister's head. After doing the same thing on the right side, she braided the two braids together and secured it with a clear elastic band. "There. Now I just have to curl the rest of your hair."

"Ella, this looks amazing," Delilah smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ella grinned as she took the curling iron in her hand and set to work.

After about twenty minutes, she finished and Delilah stood up, grabbing her clutch purse. "Thanks, Ella! I have to go. See you later."

"Bye," Ella smiled, waving at her sister before unplugging the curling iron.

Delilah quickly put on her black, double criss-cross strapped pumps and left the house, hopping into the passenger seat of her father's car.

"Hi," Dylan grinned.

"Hi," Delilah replied with a giggle. "How'd you get my father to agree to letting you drive his car?"

"What can I say? Your dad likes me," Dylan chuckled. "Probably because I mowed the lawn for him."

"Ah, I see," Delilah laughed. "Where are we going to eat?"

"That high end restaurant you like but never go to because it's really expensive," Dylan smiled, pulling out of the driveway and heading off in the direction of the restaurant.

"You're kidding!" Delilah exclaimed excitedly.

"Hello, it's me. I never joke about food," Dylan smirked.

"Fair enough," Delilah chuckled, growing a bit suspicious.

What was Dylan planning? After all, it seemed so sudden. First, he flew all the way out to New York City without telling Delilah, and now he was taking her to a very expensive restaurant? What was all of it for?

—————

"Dylan, dinner was lovely. Thank you so much," Delilah smiled as they got into the car.

"The night isn't over yet," Dylan smiled. "We're going out for coffee."

"Oh, we are?" Delilah chuckled. "You really know you're way to a girl's heart."

"You have no idea," Dylan thought to himself.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a little café in the heart of the city and went inside. When they were shown to a table right by a small platform, Dylan held out the chair for Delilah, who immediately sat down. Instead of joining her, though, Dylan stepped up onto the stage and adjusted the microphone before grabbing a guitar -which Delilah immediately recognized as his own- and sitting down on the stool. "This is a song I wrote to someone who is very special to me," he said softly into the microphone, sending a smile in Delilah's direction as he began to strum the melody.

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