‘I followed it!’ I exclaim. ‘I hit myself in the face with a bat! I bought blister-inducing tango shoes! I went on a fucking cruise!’
He looks like a scolded child, his eyes never leaving his coffee cup. Until I start to laugh.
‘I went on a cruise,’ I repeat, my eyes starting to water. ‘I invented a sibling to chat up a man! Christ, I applied to go onFirst Dates. Thank God they didn’t respond.’
Slowly he starts to laugh with me. ‘Um, why are we laughing?’
‘Because everything about this is ridiculous. I had to sit across from a client at speed dating. Mortifying.’
‘Shit. I feel bad now.’
‘You should!’ My laughter begins to subside. ‘I’ll admit, I feel a bit better knowing that I’m not the only one this didn’t work for.’
He shakes his head. ‘Even though it didn’t go your way, you still came closer than I did. I’d say that’s better than nothing.’
He has a point. I did come close. That week I felt excited about love again. Optimistic. I’d like to feel that again, even if it’s not with Ellis.
‘Do you think you’ll date again anytime soon?’ he asks. ‘Or has this scarred you for life?’
I shrug. ‘I’m sure I will. When? I have no idea.’
‘Well, how about now?’ He smiles enthusiastically.
It takes my overworked brain a second to realise what he’s suggesting.
‘You mean us? Here?’
He nods. ‘Well, unless you’d rather go somewhere else? I just thought since we’re here. . . and, well, your email did suggest that you might be up for it.’
‘What email?’ I reply. ‘I don’t remember any emails, you must be mistaken.’
He laughs. ‘More coffee?’
We chat for another hour and it’s easy. No pressure, no pre-date nerves and no need to pretend we’re someone we’re not. He’s a loser who made up a girlfriend and I’m a loser who makes up siblings.
Alex is a great guy. Smart, easy to talk to and even easier on the eye. However, two coffees and a slightly stale pastry later, it’s clear that we’re not remotely compatible. Unsurprisingly, along with his passion for fitness, his first love is sports. Kayaking, tennis, wall climbing, anything that might break a sweat. Britain’s Strongest Man is his Eurovision (which he cannot stand, or country music), he’s definitely more right wing that I am, would still like to have three kids and tends to go for women in their early thirties.
‘You do realise I’m forty-five?’
‘I didn’t actually. . . Wow, OK.’
Rude.
But more importantly, and the real dealbreaker, is that he doesn’t make me laugh. Not properly. Not like Naomi, or Kieran or Eesha. Not like Ellis.
As we say goodbye, neither of us mention a second date, which is a relief. While my deal breaker was his sense of humour, I could absolutely tell that his was age. Maybe we’ll meet again for coffee but as far as romance, neither of us is saying yes.
Chapter 58
I’ve been at the Flirt First launch night for forty-five minutes before Eddie Bailey swans in. Idiot thinks he’s the celebrity guest of honour rather than the founder of this godforsaken app. If this were my business, I would have been here early, hands on, making sure everything was perfect before the door even opened.
The warehouse looks just as Eesha intended and better than I’d imagined. In just three days, everything is installed, decorated, hooked up and ready to go. Staff showed up on time, merch and catering are on point and the bouncers have been told to strictly adhere to the guest list.
‘Looks like you have everything under control, babe,’ he says, surveying the room. ‘Really impressed you got Calvin Harris to DJ.’
‘No. . . that’s Calvin Sizemore. FromEx on the Beach,’ I inform him, wondering why he ever thought global superstar Calvin Harris would have nothing better to do. ‘He’s standing with Anwar Khan. . . wonBritain’s Got Talent. . . He’s doing the PA later.’
He looks at me like I’ve just spoken Swahili. He has no idea who any of these people are. Luckily for him, I do. I’m a reality TV aficionado.
