‘No, no, no,no!’ She waggled her finger. ‘Your age isextremely, highly,exceptionallyrelevant! You’re practically young enough to be my son!’
‘Hmmm.’ I straightened myself in my seat. ‘Although of course it is not impossible for a girl to have a child at the age of thirteen, it is extremely rare, so I am technically too old to be your son.’
‘Even if you were in your thirties, I still couldn’t date you! Your mother, she… she has…expectations. She’s excited about becoming a grandmother. She said you’re getting back with your ex! This is… if she ever found out that I, that we… that the two of us were evensittinghere together, all hell would break loose!’
‘Do not worry about my mother.’ I blew out a frustrated breath. ‘This is my life, not hers. I am very happy to have been matched with you. This was fate.’
‘Fate?’ Laila’s eyes narrowed.
‘Hundreds of people apply for this hotel every week and despite the fact that we live in different countries, the matchmaking experts put us together. So, like I said – it is fate.’
Now that I thought about it more deeply, I was foolish to doubt that this could happen. The odds of me becoming a multi-millionaire at twenty-seven were also stacked against me but I did it. I truly believed that anything was possible. And this had just proved it.
‘It’s notfate! It’s a disaster! You’re what? Twenty-nine? Thirty?’
‘Twenty-seven.’
‘That’s evenworse!’ Her eyes were now the size of saucers. ‘I’ll be forty-one next week. That’s afourteen-year age gap, not thirteen! What could we possibly have in common? We’re at completely different stages in our lives!’
‘Laila.’ I paused. ‘I understand why you have concerns, but the Love Hotel matchmakers are the experts,non? They have put us together for a reason. So instead of worrying about something that you believe would be a challenge, let us focus on the great things that could happen instead.’
She eyed me suspiciously for several beats.
‘I…’ She went to speak and then her phone chimed. ‘Sorry. I thought I switched off my mobile. I’ll do that now.’
When she took her phone from her handbag, Laila’s face fell.
‘Oh, no!’ Laila squeezed her eyes shut.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘It’s a text. From yourmother. She wants to know about my match and is asking for photos!’ Laila’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her head in her hands. ‘Ihaveto tell her.’
‘It is better if you do not,’ I said firmly. ‘You know what she is like. She will be on the first Eurostar here. I meant what I said: this is none of her business. Do you remember the conversations we used to have when I visited?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘We used to speak for hours. I enjoyed talking to you and I assume that you enjoyed our discussions too?’
‘Even if I did, that was what, seven or eight years ago! We’re probably completely different people now. And that wasn’t a romantic situation.’
‘Forget for a moment that we’ve met. If you saw me in a bar and I offered to buy you a drink, would you accept?’
‘I…’ she stuttered.
‘Let me put it another way. Are you attracted to me?’
Laila’s eyes bulged and her lips parted.
She had very, very beautiful lips.
‘You can’t ask me that!’
‘Why not? I am very attracted to you. And let us be honest, when we meet someone for the first time, attraction is important. Let me make this easier for you.’
I dropped my napkin on the table, then got up and left.
When I reached the restaurant door and turned around, Laila’s mouth was on the floor.
