Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating (33 page)

Kate stood outside the Seven Eleven and checked her watch again. It was 7.30 p.m. and she was now officially on time. She could finally enter the pub.

She’d been loitering for ten minutes to make sure she wasn’t early for her date with Tommy. Lou had instructed her to arrive at least twenty minutes late, but that didn’t sit right. What if he got fed up and left? And anyway, since when was Lou an expert on dating? A world authority on no-strings sex, yes. But on dating?

Kate checked her reflection in the Seven Eleven window, and took one last look at her silk tea dress and Mary-Jane heels. She smoothed down her hair, took a deep breath and walked the last few steps to the pub, trying to look confident as she swung open the door and stepped inside.

A man who could only be Tommy was sitting near the door, engrossed in a book. She looked at him, taking advantage of the few moments before he sensed her presence and looked up.

He wasn’t her kind of man at all, but despite that, he looked
good
. His suit jacket was thrown on the seat next
to him, his tie was off and his sleeves were rolled up revealing muscular forearms. He filled out his shirt in the best possible way, the material pulling tight over his wide, strong chest and the neck open to reveal a tuft of chest hair. Kate couldn’t see much of his face, but he looked as though he’d once broken his nose, and his jaw was strong and shaded with five o’clock shadow. He certainly wasn’t model pretty, not like Sebastian. He looked like a fireman or an off-duty rugby player – one hundred per cent alpha male.

Something stirred in Kate. She had a bizarre urge to lean forward and stroke the roughness of his stubble. She suddenly imagined being enveloped by those muscular arms and held tight against the wall of his chest.

‘Kate?’

Tommy was smiling at her.

Kate jumped guiltily.

‘Wow, hello!’ He looked surprised. He stood and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Now I see why Steve does it! I wasn’t expecting . . . I mean, it’s one thing having a laugh mucking about with internet dating, but I thought women who joined
actual
dating agencies would all be a bit . . . you know,
desperate
. But, wow . . .!’

Kate blushed furiously and felt lost for words.

‘Not that you are, of course . . . Desperate, I mean. A woman like you . . . far from it,’ he offered in embarrassment. He laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m going to put my spade away now. I got you a glass of champagne.’

It was only then that Kate noticed a glass of champagne fizzing energetically next to his pint.

‘Thank you,’ she said in surprise.

They sat down.

Kate’s mouth felt dry. She tried to think of something to say.

‘So, you’re a friend of Steve’s?’ she asked nervously.

‘’Fraid so!’ Tommy grinned mischievously. ‘He was really annoyed when Alice told him you weren’t interested! And he’s not happy that I’m seeing you tonight either. Reckon I’m off the Christmas card list.’

Kate sipped her champagne, feeling quietly chuffed that she was a subject of rivalry. She could feel Tommy’s eyes taking her in, moving across her face and body. She felt strangely excited. She sat up straight and tried to suck everything in.

‘So, what made you give it a go? Be set up, I mean?’

‘I met Alice the other night, with Steve. She came to the pub to see how his dating was going – although I think she was really just checking up on him . . .’

Kate couldn’t stop peeking at the small bit of chest at the top of his shirt. Normally she didn’t go for hairy chests, but far from being a turn-off, it just made Tommy seem even more manly.

‘. . . She asked if she could set me up; and I thought, why not? It’s only one night. And I wanted to see what kind of woman an expert thinks is right for me. My beer goggles aren’t exactly twenty-twenty.’

‘Oh!’ Kate fought a sudden sinking feeling. ‘You, er, you wear them often, do you?’

‘Beer goggles? I’ve updated my prescription, but it’s still always a nasty shock when daylight sets in!’

So he was promiscuous, Kate thought in dismay, mentally unticking a box. But she still couldn’t help but blush as he smiled at her.

‘Well, you’ve tried to impress me by buying me champagne,’ she heard herself saying flirtily. ‘So, let me guess. I bet you’re a stockbroker. Or maybe something big in oil.’ She gave what she hoped was a sassy smile.

‘I’m a salesman for a company that collects credit information.’

Kate struggled to hide her disappointment.

‘Oh, that’s . . .’

‘. . . the most boring job in the world?’

Kate tried to smile. She didn’t know what to say.

‘I can see you’re impressed!’ Tommy joked. ‘But I’m sure you’re far too open-minded to judge someone by their job. Only shallow people and air-kissing media types do that. As if what you do between nine and five has any bearing on whether you’re an interesting person or not!’

‘That’s so stupid!’ Kate agreed hastily. And she did agree. It certainly sounded stupid when he put it like that. She remembered with an inner wince the rigid partner criteria she’d given Alice. What had she said about her perfect man’s job? Didn‘t he have to be a top-earning manager with board potential? She hoped Alice hadn’t mentioned it to Tommy.

‘Do you like being a salesman?’ she asked politely.

‘It’s a job. What about you? What do you do?’

‘Ah, well, I’m an air-kissing media type.’ Kate laughed. ‘I work in PR. I haven’t kissed an actual cheek in years!’

‘Whoops!’ Tommy grinned sheepishly. ‘And do you like working in PR?’

‘I love it!’

‘It’s weird meeting people who love their jobs. I thought you were an urban myth. I don’t think I could love
any
job. When I was ten, our teacher asked the class what we wanted to be when we grew up. I told her I wanted to be a playboy. I didn’t know what it meant. It was the word “play” that hooked me.’

An image swamped Kate’s vision of Tommy in a jacuzzi with a bevy of scantily clad babes. She wasn’t going to be his type, she thought with a pang. He clearly liked easy women with big boobs and tiny morals, even if he had only been ten at the time.

‘So, what made you become a salesman?’ she wondered aloud.

‘It pays the most money for the least effort. I just go in, do my stuff and get out! I’ll never be rich. I’d rather be happy . . . You know, work-to-live not live-to-work.’

Kate froze. A tower of ticked boxes suddenly turned blank. He was lazy.

‘I’m not lazy,’ he laughed, as though reading her thoughts. ‘I just don’t see the point in working unpaid overtime when there are so many better things you could be doing!’

Kate wasn’t so sure. What other things were there? She was more of a live-to-work kind of girl. But even as she thought it, she realized she didn’t like the description. Nobody wanted to be a live-to-work kind of girl. Certainly not the sort of woman Tommy would want for a girlfriend. And looking at
him, with his strong arms, laughing eyes and easy manner, she suddenly realized that – despite herself – she
did
want to be his girlfriend.

But did she really want to be with a womanizing underachiever?

But how many underachievers had bodies like that? He looked like he could lift her up with just his left hand – and still keep his pint steady in his right. Kate spent every day feeling just that bit too curvy. But sitting across from Tommy she suddenly felt small and dainty and feminine.

She was confused. She couldn’t stop smiling, and her body felt tingly, like she’d put her finger in a plug socket.

When their drinks were finished Tommy suggested dinner. As they left the bar, he took her hand in his. It felt warm and strong and big around hers.

They arrived at the restaurant and sat in the window, a candle flickering between them. Tommy ordered the wine whilst Kate studied the menu, quickly ticking off the dishes she shouldn’t pick. Spaghetti was out: too messy. So were the garlic mushrooms: breath death. Lobster was definitely off the agenda. And salads were too insubstantial after all that champagne. She ordered steak and chips with a Béarnaise sauce.

‘Good choice!’ Tommy approved. ‘I like a woman who likes her food. I’ve never gone for skinny women. It winds me up when they order a perfectly good dinner, take one mouthful and then pretend to be full.’

‘God, yes! It drives me
nuts
when skinny women say, “Oh, I forgot to eat lunch,”’ Kate agreed hotly. ‘It makes me want
to batter them with a chunky Kit Kat. I’ve never forgotten to eat a meal in my life!’

‘Glad to hear it,’ Tommy appeared. ‘You look good on it too. You’ve got a great figure.’

‘Oh! You think so?’ Kate was taken aback. No man had ever complimented her figure before.

‘Absolutely! Curves in all the right places. It’s the kind of figure men really want.’

They chatted easily. Kate told Tommy about her job, and how she was on a mission to make dog food sexy. And then she told him about Lou and how she wished she could be more like her; how Lou was the crotchless knickers type, but that Kate was stuck being a pyjamas girl at heart.

‘I’ve met Lou’s kind before,’ Tommy observed. ‘They come over all confident and man-eating, but they’re just over-compensating. I’d bet she’s a softie underneath and really wants a boyfriend. You say you’d like to be more like her, but she probably wants to be like you!’

‘No, not Lou,’ Kate said certainly. ‘I’m the last person she’d want to be like. We’re total opposites. She’d be bored out of her mind being me. And she thinks I’m a real idiot for joining Table For Two.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say you’re an idiot,’ Tommy said smiling, ‘. . . but I have been wondering why.’

He looked at her intently. Kate felt her breath get shorter.

‘I don’t get it, Kate. You’re beautiful! You’ve got a cracking figure, you’re good company and you like your food. You could have any man you want. So how come you’re single?’

‘I, er. I don’t know. I guess I’ve just not met the right man.’

‘Or Lou’s scared him off.’

‘No, it’s not that.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘I probably work too much. I don’t get out enough.’

‘Ah!’ Tommy exclaimed confidently, refilling her glass. ‘Well, I can help you with that one.’

Later, at home, Kate was too excited to sleep. Her chin still tingled from the roughness of Tommy’s stubble and her lips felt exotically bruised. She sat on her bed, hugged her knees to her chest and grinned.

The night had flown by in a whirr of drinks and compliments. Eventually, after they’d both gorged on highly calorific puddings, Tommy had guided her out of the restaurant and into a taxi. It had been most unlike her, but she’d let herself be pulled onto his lap, enjoying succumbing to his hard, muscular arms and not even worrying if her hips were crushing his legs. Tommy’s legs were as strong as tree trunks.

They’d snogged deliciously as the taxi sped across the city centre. Kate’s nipples had felt like fizzing bullets and she’d been so turned on she’d wanted to ignore the taxi driver, throw caution to the wind, rip off her clothes and demand instant ravishment.

As the taxi pulled up outside her flat Tommy had looked her in the eye and said:

‘You know you’re going to be my girlfriend, Kate. Resistance is futile.’

She’d felt her whole body light up at his confident assertion.
He wanted her to be his girlfriend!
He’d just come right out and said it!

‘I’m going to ring you,’ he stated meaningfully and the taxi whizzed off, leaving her grinning girlishly on the pavement.

She had to hand it to Alice, she thought as she snuggled happily into bed, not caring that her silk dress was in a pile on her bedroom floor, her teeth were unbrushed or that for the first time in ten years she hadn’t cleansed, toned and moisturized. She really knows her matchmaking stuff. And she turned out the light, falling into a contented, dream-filled sleep within seconds.