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‘Oh?’ he prods with disinterest as he settles himself in an alcove closer to the band. His shadows fan around him. I watch one curious tendril reach out to me, before it straightens a crease in my skirt and whips back into place. Like father, like shadow.

‘Who can say no to an old widow who’s also a hopeless romantic?’

‘Only monsters, and ageists,’ he answers.

‘Hm, yes. See, that’s the problem.’ I wave. ‘He’s nothing like you.’ I side-eye Walker.

‘I’m not ageist.’

‘No, you’re a terrorist.’ He doesn’t deny it, which only furthers my reservations about his occupation.

‘Who’s the unlucky victim?’ He changes the subject.

Right on cue, I hear a familiar ‘Hey!’ come from my left.

Walker’s lip twitches as he regards Hot Face. ‘You’ve been summoned.’

‘I heard,’ I snipe.

‘You’re not moving,’ Walker sasses.

Yes. Why am I not moving? ‘I am, I’m just⁠—’

‘Hey! I was worried you didn’t hear me. I got us a seat over here.’ Hot Face has arrived. Walker has disappeared. ‘Are you okay? Who are you looking for?’

I snap myself out of it. ‘No one.’ I smile, and then amend, ‘You.’

‘Here, come save our spot and I can get us some drinks.’

He’s got us a seat right in the centre, in front of the band at a bar table. I eye the retro lounges with longing as I take one of the stools and force a smile while he pushes my chair in. What can I say, I’m a creature of comfort.

‘Shiraz?’ he asks.

‘I’ll just take a beer, thanks. Whatever’s on tap.’

‘Beer girl! Sure.’ He nods and takes off with a skip in his step.

Ick.

Shit. What is wrong with me? I should be thrilled right now. I should be happy. He *technically* asked me on a date! It’s just that… It’s almost like his happiness is a turn off. Maybe because it feels disingenuous. Maybe this is a pity date. Maybe that’s why he’s being so overly nice – he thinks he’s fulfilling the dying wish of an elderly woman. I wouldn’t put it past Aggy to manipulate a man into loving me.

‘Your date looks like it’s off to a riveting start.’

I fix my frown and flick my hair. That same rogue strand springs free. Again. Ugh.

‘It’s not a date.’ I pat my hair back down.

‘It definitely is.’ He kicks a leg over his knee.

‘You think so?’

‘He certainly does.’ Walker nods back towards the bar, back to where Hot Face is trying to catch the attention of the bartender.

Ick.

Damnit! Another one?

‘You don’t think it’s out of pity?’