Reilly, Happy Birthday.
Please have dinner with me. Friday?
Elton x
He actually managed to write please – at least he’s finding his manners. I tentatively stare at the card. I want to. I so badly want to. But it’s so complicated. We’ve already been at each other’s throats, and it is clear we both have issues that haven’t been properly worked through. Now is not the time to be focusing on unnecessary problems.
I’m striving for simplicity. Life with a man like Elton would be anything but. As much as my desire to see him again is swaying me towards accepting his invitation, I am wary. Sensible me doesn’t see how it will work. We’ve all seen this show before.
I am the product of an affair. I don’t judge my mum for it, she was young and naive. He told her he loved her, he told her she was everything. The man who fathered me was an entitled prick who took advantage of Mum, then cast her aside when he was done with her. I won’t be another woman taken in by the sweet charms of a handsome man.Again.
A text comes in from my ex, Tim.
Happy Birthday, Reilly. I’m still thinking of you. Let’s meet and sort this out.
Another excellent example of an entitled rich prick who never considers anyone but himself. I told him it was over but money can’t buy a stable mind and he is adamant we are only on a break. It was never going to work between Tim and me and the only reason he can’t let go is because I ended it. His pride has been hurt, and now he’s trying to drag me down with him.
“Go on, Reilly, have dinner with the man.” Dorothy is a romantic at heart and desperate to see me settled down.
“Don’t push her, Dorothy. Reilly is a smart girl. She knows what’s right for herself.” Mum gives me a pointed look. She would never tell me how to live my life, but I can tell when she is having opinions.
I grab my phone, choosing to ignore the text from Tim and politely decline Elton’s invite.
Thank you for the flowers, Elton. I appreciate the invite to dinner but as I said yesterday it wouldn’t be a good idea. Let’s keep things professional. Reilly
~
Saturday comes around quickly. My week has been filled with work, walks and baking. Anything to distract myself from flirty text messages with a certain man whose name I am trying desperately to forget. Despite my oh-so-polite and courteous decline of dinner, Elton has been persistent in keeping lines of communication open. And I have indulged. I couldn’t help myself. The man has a thing forSchitt’s Creekand has been keeping me entertained with gifs and memes. He’s been watching it with Neive, and the image of the two of them bonding on the sofa makes my heart flutter.
With my brain being in a man bog, I declined the idea of a night out with the girls. The only decent place to go out isSkyLounge, and I can’t bump into Elton right now. Especially liquored up, my inhibitions would be out the window, and I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back. I’m determined to stay strong on this despite my inner slut screaming for another go.
The girls have booked us a table at Ivy Asian, which has opened in Bournemouth. Their treat, and screw it, I need a little luxury at the moment.
We’ve been seated under the pink blossom tree and the kaleidoscope floor breathes life into me. Sarah and Thea are already arguing about what we are drinking, and I spend a few minutes in awe of the menu and the surrounding atmosphere. We order cocktails and the afternoon tea which turns up surrounded by dry ice. As it settles, it reveals a three-tiered stand filled with Asian delights, topped with the most beautifully striking macarons and little desserts.
I’ve had my fill and three overpriced and deliciously strong cocktails, so I put my sensible hat on and ordered water for the table. It is only lunch, and we’ve decided to head back to Sarah’s after for a chilled film night. I’m getting well into my thirties now, and heavy day-drinking does nothing good for the soul. Alas, my carefree and soul-warming afternoon is quickly dashed as Sarah and Thea both groan at the same time.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Sarah rolls her eyes.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Thea grabs my hand and nods over my head.
My not-so-subtle stalker is heading towards us with a smarmy smile on his face – Twatface Timathy. I’m starting to come around to Sarah’s nickname for him. He’s arm in arm with Lucy McCullen. She went to uni with us. Ran the cheerleading team. Yes, there was a cheerleading team at Bournemouth Uni. They would awkwardly cheer at basketball games, no one wanted them there. She thought she ruled the place. She never grew out of school theatrics.
We ended up caught on her radar after Sarah accidentally slept with her “boyfriend”. I say boyfriend in inverted commas as Lucy was the only one who thought of him as such.
She was a classic mean girl, with a smile that could cut your soul. You always knew that the way she would feign interest meant she was gearing up to slag you off behind your back. And by the looks of her stuck-up face, she hasn’t changed. It would thrill her to know she is on a date with my ex, and I imagine it wouldn’t change anything if she knew he had been blowing up my phone all week.
“Ladies, oh my gosh. What are you all doing here?” Her voice was two octaves too high to be sincere, a hand flat against her chest in mock horror. “I wouldn’t think this would be your sort of place. No two-for-one offers here.” The little titter after really drives the point home. Considering Thea has a trust fund and Sarah a steady, well-paid job at a private school, that little jab was aimed at me.
No harm, no foul. There is no part of me that cares about her opinion.
“Lucy, Tim. Nice to see you both. I didn’t know you knew each other.” I’m being as polite as I can, as Thea scowls at them both and says nothing. Sarah goes for complete ignorance and orders another round of cocktails.
Lucy runs her hand down Tim’s arm. “He slid into my DMs, and I couldn’t deny him a little date after the lovely things he said to me.” She leans into him. Tim hasn’t moved his gaze from mine. His hands are clenched at his side, his eyes narrow.
“Rumour is you’re dating Elton Fox.” He finally speaks. Lucy gasps and sneers at me. I’m not surprised she knows of him.
“Odd rumour,” I retort, taking a leisurely sip of my drink, not feeling the need to deny it.
