“You definitely need to have a real and honest conversation with him about it, babe. Especially if you can see him as a long-term partner. Sex is important, so you have to be on the same page or it'll never work,” Max reaches over to squeeze my shoulder.
I let out a long breath, “I know. And I think I do see this getting serious, he really is a great guy. He messaged me within an hour of me leaving his flat to tell me he had a great night and missed me already.”
“That's sweet,” Elle sings.
My phone dings and I fish it out of my bag, smiling at the message on the screen.
“Is that him again?”
“Hmmm? No, it's Brad. He took Lizzie to feed the ducks this morning, and she ended up eating half the bread herself,” I lock the screen and when I look back up they're all sharing a look.
“What? What's that look?” I hate when they do this.
“Nothing, babe. So Jake cooked you dinner? What did he make?” Elle changes the subject.
I eye them for a moment longer before giving in, “He made steak with cheesy hasselback potatoes, roast carrots and asparagus. Although he undercooked my sirloin on purpose to prove that rare is king when it comes to steak. It was delicious, but I still prefer mine medium,” I huff a laugh and roll my eyes. Once again, they're sharing a look.
“What? Guys, don't say it's nothing. What is this look?”
Jaime, ever the veracious member of our group, pipes up. “Honestly? Jake sounds like kind of a dick.”
“What? Because he tried to prove a point about steak?” I'm truly baffled.
“Well, we've met him, for one, but even if we're just going from what you've told us,” she starts ticking off her fingers, “he told you how to eat your food, he didn't listen when you told him you weren't enjoying the sex, and he left you hanging off the back of the orgasm train. Twice! And that’s only from last night’s antics. I’m willing to bet he'll start love bombing you now in a bid to keep you on side.”
I'm stunned. I know she's protective, but she's not seeing any of the good and only focusing on her view of the bad things. What happened with Isaiah has only made her more jaded when it comes to men. It makes me feel oddly defensive of Jake.
“I think you're just picking out negatives wherever you perceive them, but that isn't how it happened,”is it?“Maybe you just need to get to know him better.”
Max watches me warily, “You're right. We've only met him once, so it's impossible to judge anything on one meeting. Andfrom what you've said, all your other dates have gone really well. We'd love to spend more time getting to know him. Right, ladies?”
“Definitely, babe! Maybe we can all do something without the kids next month?” Elle suggests.
“Yeah, that'd be nice! Ok, I need the loo, back in a sec!” I hop up and dash to the toilet. My bladder gives me very little notice now as a forty-two-year-old mother.
As I'm walking back to the table, I can hear Jaime say, “I just think he's bad news, and she's blind to it. I don't want to upset her but I'd rather Shari be pissed at me now, in the short term, than question why I wasn't honest with her when it's gone too far.”
Max spots me and very unsubtly indicates for Jaime to shut up.
“Ok, let's not pretend that I didn't hear that. I appreciate your concern and that you want to protect me, but I just don't see it the same way you do. I will keep my Spidey senses open, though, I promise,” I hold out my pinky.
Jaime eyes my finger with a scoff and stands up to pull me into a suffocating hug. “I’m just worried. I want the best for you and I fear that Jake isn't it. But you have to trust your own instincts, so...just know that if you ever come to the same conclusion as me, I will never judge you for it. And I hope we can dispose of his body together.”
“Deal,” I laugh.
It'll never come to that because I'm sure she's wrong about him.I think.
I decideto take Pickles out for an extra long walk after my lunch date with the girls, since the sun is out. It's cold, but at least it's not wet, which makes all the difference.
With both of us worn out from the exercise and frigid air, we're eager to get back indoors and so we jog the last fifty meters up the road to the house. There's a delivery van idling by the curb when we get to our driveway, and the driver gets out as we approach.
“Are you here for number fifteen?” I ask.
“Yeah, is that you? Good timing!” he opens the back of the van to sift through the packages whilst I let Pickles into the house, and as soon as I sign for my delivery, he drives off.
“I wonder what we have here, Pickles! I haven't ordered anything recently, I don't think.” Knowing me it could be special edition books I pre-ordered ages ago, but the box iswaytoo big and heavy to be just one or two books.
I gasp in surprise when I open the box to find a beautiful bouquet of red roses, carnations, oriental lilies and gerberas arranged in a gorgeous white vase with gold veining. There's also a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, a bottle of rosé prosecco, a cute little teddy bear with a note pinned to it that says “For Pickles”, and a jar of pistachios. Nestled amongst the petals is a card that reads:
