Hmm. Is Mike really the right guy to take with me? I mean, I don’t actually want a date-date – I just need someone to senda message. They can have their own hotel room, do their own thing, but show up for the wedding events, show their face… or their cucumber, in Mike’s case.
This isn’t a stupid idea, is it? I know I’m upset, acting on pure emotion rather than logic, but Faye and Molly think I should go for it, and Fergus thought I should be going even harder… although I’m not surethiswas quite what he meant by that.
‘Lana,’ Mike’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I look up at him and smile.
‘Yeah?’
‘Sorry,’ he says with a big sigh. ‘I can’t come. My wife says no.’
His wife?
I blink, trying to process what he’s just said.
‘That’s okay,’ I manage to reply, and it really, really is. He’s married? And on Matcher? I’m shocked right now, although not surprised generally – there are always plenty of married men on Matcher.
As Mike sits back down, looking almost apologetic, I decide it’s definitely time to end this weird date. If only there was an app for that…
It’s silly, but it’s true, that despite the fact he just told me he was married, being a woman it still feels so scary, to knock someone back. You never know how a person will react, no matter how justified you are.
I would rather be embarrassed than unsafe.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I need to go,’ I tell him.
‘What, really?’ he replies. ‘Is it because I’m married, because we?—’
‘Oh, no, nothing like that,’ I insist. ‘Just… period stuff. Like, it’s come on thick and fast. I mean, I’m relieved, because I’d been checking my calendar in a bit of a panic, if you know what I mean but, yeah, I need to go sort it.’
He looks genuinely violated at the mention of that word.
‘Yeah, right, you should go,’ he tells me.
I stand up, grabbing my coat and bag – more than happy to be leaving.
As I walk out of the restaurant, I can’t help but laugh to myself. This guy was more of a walking red flag than I expected – literally. Which reminds me, on the bus home, I should probably go on Redflags, and update the thread about Mike. Because being married is a way bigger deal than smuggling salad in his pants.
20
What is it they say about getting back on the horse?
Unwilling to be put off by my bizarre date with Tragic Mike, and with time running out before the wedding, I’ve already dived back into the murky waters of Redflags. This time, I’ve found another potential wedding date – a guy who works at a bar in town, and honestly, he sounds like he could be perfect. Or at least, perfect enough for my current needs.
I pick up the pace as I try to dodge a slow-moving group of schoolkids, clearly on their way to the Armouries, all suitably hyped to go and look at old weaponry.
I glance at my watch, swearing under my breath when I see the time. I’m here, at the bloody dock, it’s just like trying to walk through quicksand, getting to the office door.
Late again – that’s what Jennifer will say. She is going to have a field day if she catches me strolling in after 9a.m. I really hate working for her. It’s always supposed to be temporary, just until she finds a decent temp or her real assistant stops having babies to avoid her, but it never seems to end fast enough.
I finally make it to the office, a little breathless, and slide into my chair, trying to appear as though I’ve been there for ages.
‘Morning,’ I mouth to Faye and Molly.
Faye is on the phone, so she gives me a wave. Molly whispers good morning back.
Now that we’re friendly, they don’t judge me for things like being late, which is nice. Actually, no, we’re not friendly, we’re friends – and I really appreciate having them onside. Most of my friends are strictly night-out buddies, the kind of people you rarely see in the daylight. But with Faye and Molly, I have someone to talk to during the day, someone to hang out with, who I can tell all about my stupid problems – and they actually want to help me fix them, not just drink with me to forget them.
I mean, yeah, it does feel like they’re egging me on with this whole wedding date thing, but isn’t that what friends are for? To back you up when you’re on a mission, no matter how ridiculous that mission might be?
