Kissing Frogs

by Tori Turnbull

  “I thought you just said you’d seen the posters in the Underground station,” I deadpanned.

  He flushed a mottled red. “Very funny, Hate.” You couldn’t tell from his tone. “Of course, you look way better in the flesh.” He smiled, a patently false and ingratiating smile. “You didn’t say what made you decide to come to speed dating.”

  “The same reason as everyone else, I guess.” He seemed so disappointed. He was the last date of the night. Mr Perfect hadn’t shown up. I decided to give him what he wanted. It wasn’t like I was going to “yes” him for another date. “You know, I’m not getting any younger. It’s my birthday soon, and…” I sighed and shrugged. “You know how it is…”

  I let the sentence run down and waited for Johnny4* to hang himself. “You don’t look a day over… thirty-five?”

  I bit my tongue to stop myself screaming, I’m only twenty-nine, you money-grabbing bastard!

  This was war.

  I leant across the table, using my elbows to squeeze my boobs together so they hovered on the edge of my bodice (I failed GCSE drama, so I needed to keep his attention off my face), glancing around to be sure no one was close enough to hear us. “Can I trust you, Johnny?”

  Johnny4* dragged his eyes up from the girls and leant in. “Of course.”

  “It’s just, you know, I wouldn’t like it to get out…”

  He leant forward confidingly. I sat back before he could touch me, covering the action by smoothing a hand over my stomach like I’d seen pregnant friends do.

  His eyes widened and he paled.

  I managed not to smile. If only Mr Blythe could see me now. This was Oscar-worthy. “I find that I’m at the point in my life where I need a partner. Someone to share the… the responsibilities of family. I can tell that you’re a man to be relied on.”

  His nod this time was less enthusiastic.

  I ran a finger under my eye, wiping away an imaginary tear, and gave a little sniff, enjoying the look of panic that lit his eyes. Ah, men and tears.

  “It’s so hard, you know? Now that my father’s no longer with us…” I squelched the tingling of guilt. It wasn’t like I’d said my dad was dead, just that he wasn’t with us anymore, and technically he wasn’t. California was a long way away. “He had such old-fashioned ideas about some things.” Not marriage and fidelity, of course.

  Johnny4* nodded patronisingly. “You miss having a male influence to guide you.”

  Seriously? “Ah, yes, Johnny. Yes. That’s it. Especially when it comes to handling the tricky legalities and money–”

  Ding. Ten minutes was up already? I couldn’t have timed it better if I’d tried.

  I dodged his outstretched hand and held my stomach as I rose from my chair – possibly overkill, but it was the only thing stopping me from laughing until I cried.

  * * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, the crowd had thinned. I stood by the reception desk in the lobby finalising my comments card. I had one “yes” – Damien666; I didn’t fancy him any more than he fancied me, but you could never have too many drinking buddies – several “nos” and one “God no” for Bible-bashing Luke. I was debating how to grade Mark and, more importantly, if I should just “yes” everyone, so I could see who liked me.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “Hey.” I clutched my card to my chest. “Stop looking, Mark. That’s cheating.”

  “It’s not a test, KT.” His arm looped around me, pushing my score sheet down so he could see. He settled his chin on my shoulder, reading my responses. “Why haven’t you put yes next to me? You said I was your second-best date.”

  “You were my third date.”

  “So?”

  “Fine.” I marked him a “yes” then went back to the to “yes” or not to “yes” internal debate.

  “I wouldn’t,” he said. “Natalia was pretty clear earlier.” So everyone kept telling me! I was beginning to wish I’d listened. “She said that if you put yes next to everyone then your male matches would call you and you’d have to go out on a date with all of them.”

  “Surely she can’t make that stand once we’ve left?”

  “If you don’t, you’ll be banned from ever attending another speed-dating session.”

  I snorted. “Being banned from ever attending another speed-dating session is less of a repellent than having to go out on a date with Archie, or Luke, or Lesley, or Johnny.” I dropped my card in the box. Done. Finished. There wasn’t exactly much to hold out hope for, but I wouldn’t mind seeing Damien again, and there might be someone who’d seen me across a crowded room during halftime and ticked me…

  “Just one second, before you leave,” Godzilla called after Mark.

  I turned for the exit, leaving them to exchange numbers. “If you’re going to stick around here and flirt, give me your car keys and I’ll go and warm up.” Did my tone sound sulky? I was aiming for disinterested.

  “Actually, I think Natalia is talking to you,” he said.

  “Me?” Wow, had someone seen me during the break ticked me as a date? That was fast. I wondered who it was.

  I turned, waiting impatiently for Natalia to shimmy over to me. She was no longer flashing the Godzilla teeth of earlier in the night. Her tone was serious. “I’m sorry to say I’ve had several complaints tonight.”

  “I didn’t think you’d done that badly,” I responded. It always hurt to get negative feedback. “I mean, it would’ve been better if you’d–”

  “About your attitude,” she snapped. People had complained about me? “It seems that a few of your dates have noted that you were rude.”

  “Who?” Mark slid his rough palm down my arm. Shivers raced across my skin in his wake. Our palms met, his thick fingers sliding between mine, his presence bolstering me when I staggered from the verbal blow. I could feel him shaking with amusement through the contact. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

  “I have to tell you that I will be withdrawing your card,” Natalia said.

  “What? You can’t do that. I paid to come here.”

  “My decision in these matters is final. It’s in the contract you signed when you registered.”

  “I didn’t read it.”

  Natalia’s lips pinched. She didn’t look surprised.

  I turned to Mark. “Did you read it?” He shrugged and gave a short nod. Traitor.

  “I won’t be able to match you up with anyone, and you won’t be able to attend another speed-dating session with us here at QuickDate.”

  I slowly blinked, too shocked to speak. Mark finally stopped laughing long enough to ask Natalia, although his voice still trembled with amusement, “You’re banning her from dating?”

  “It would seem so.” Unlike Mark, she clearly didn’t see the humour in the situation. Finally, we had something in common. “I don’t like doing it. I know she’s your…” She stumbled over our relationship before giving up and moving on. “I have to admit in all my years with QuickDate, it’s not something I’ve ever had to do before.” Her tight expression relaxed. “But you’re more than welcome to come along again by yourself.”

  She was kicking me out and asking him to stay?

  He wasn’t even looking for a date.

  “We come as a package deal, I’m afraid, Natalia.”

  He released my hand and wrapped his arm around my hunched shoulders – I wasn’t feeling so hot right now – and walked me out.

  Godzilla called after us, “I’ll let you know which ladies’ cards match with yours, Mark. Don’t forget to call them. It would be unfair for them to be disappointed because of your… friend.”

  * * * * *

  After a cold, silent (I refused to talk or be cajoled out of my depression by Mark) ten-minute walk to the car, I slumped in the bucket seat and cranked up the car’s heater. Why was I putting myself through this shit? I asked myself the same question every night as I lay in bed, the latest dating disaster playing through my mind. Finally, I’d r
ealised that what scared me the most wasn’t the blackmail or the risk of going bikini viral – although that was pretty terrifying – it was dying a lonely old spinster living alone in my mother’s basement flat. I wanted a boyfriend. Someone I could snuggle up to at night, go out with, stay in and watch TV with… It was just so hard.

  I honestly didn’t remember the whole manhunt thing getting me into so much trouble in the past. First, I was banned from Pimlico Underground Station, and now from speed dating. If this kept up, soon I wouldn’t be able to leave the flat. “Mark, what’s wrong with me?” My voice wobbled then edged up into a pitch only dogs could hear.

  “You mean apart from calling Shaun a git and falling asleep during your date with Luke?”

  “Ugly-face Thor was… Shaun was mean, and Luke was boring, and I haven’t been sleeping well, so…”

  “It was only ten minutes.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if he’d been preaching at you. I didn’t ask Lesley#1 if he was a man or a woman.”

  “That’s too kind of you.” He laughed.

  I turned to the window, so he couldn’t see my tears, and waited for him to put the car in gear and pull out into traffic.

  “Are you crying?”

  “No.” I sniffed, proving myself a liar.

  He stroked the bare skin on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Come on, KT.”

  “Now I’ll never know if any of them liked me,” I wailed.

  “You didn’t fancy any of them anyway.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  The engine fell silent and Mark released my seatbelt, pulling me across the seat over the handbrake and onto his lap. I buried my face against his chest, taking comfort in his spicy scent, as he wrapped his arms around me. “Nothing, honey.” His words rumbled through his chest against my ear. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  My lips brushed the warm skin in the crook of his neck, where I’d buried my face. “Then how come my mother advertised me and I still can’t get a date?”

  “You’ve had dates.”

  “Nothing real. Nothing serious. Maybe if I was pretty and skinny and blonde…” Why the hell was I comparing myself to a plastic doll come to life?

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve got T and A.”

  “Throughput accounting?”

  “Tits and ass.” He laughed, which was mean. I’m an accountant; it was a reasonable assumption. “A guy likes a girl with T and A. Your problem is that you keep sabotaging your dates. You just need to let down your guard. You do that and follow your heart and you’ll see what the rest of us do, and you’ll find love.” He smoothed my hair again.

  Something squiggled around inside. I squeezed my legs together, squirming on his hot, hard thighs. It had been a while since my intimate parts had been this close to hot, hard male thighs. Clearly too long, if I was reacting to Mark.

  “KT?”

  I sniffed, shrugging against his chest, bringing myself back to the conversation. “I just get nervous and then my mouth starts to run away with me.”

  “What does a gorgeous but grumpy woman like you have to be nervous about?”

  I shrugged again. I was scared of falling for some guy like my father – opening myself up to them, only to have them fuck off, taking my self-respect with them.

  “Stick with it, KT. There are only a few weeks left. If you haven’t discovered your dream man by then, I promise I’ll do everything I can to talk your mum out of the videos. Of course, you’ll have to agree to an arranged marriage, but I’m willing–” I hic-snorted, laughing and crying at the same time. “Come on, honey, climb back over into your seat and let’s go home.”

  * * * * *

  It was a couple of days after speed dating, and I was lounging on the sofa after a long, dull day at work. Mark was banging around the flat getting ready for a night out, or something. I didn’t glance up from my phone as he walked into the room. Kanchan was messaging me. She was on again with Vincent, but still badgering me to invite her over for dinner one night, so she could ogle Mark.

  “Right, honey. I’m off on this date.”

  I looked up. Wow. He was looking hot, in dark blue jeans that clung to his thick thighs and a short-sleeved shirt that moulded his broad chest and showed off his powerful arms. I was wearing leggings and a ratty, outsized jumper with a tear in the cuff and paint splashes on one sleeve. “The big-boobed, stick-thin American blonde from speed dating?” I asked.

  “Yep.” He half smiled, his eyes slightly dazed, no doubt recalling her assets. He dropped down onto the sofa beside me. “Seems we both ticked yes. I thought the men had to call the women, but she called me.” I bet she did. Natalia had probably made an exception. “You know, I wouldn’t, especi–”

  “You don’t have to explain to me.” His eyebrows rose at my snappy tone. Okay, so I was a little jealous… I need a date way more than him. He wasn’t at risk of going viral. I shuddered. “What’s her real name, anyway?”

  “Barbie.”

  “Uh-huh, and her surname’s Mattel.”

  “No, it’s Ellison.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d ask how you’re feeling, but I can tell from the bitching you’re back to your old self.” I shrugged. I wasn’t apologising – bitching at a Barbie doll lookalike was allowed. “So, your mother had the police around last night.”

  “What?” I jerked up from my slouched position on the sofa. Why hadn’t he told me this first, before the update on his love life? I might want to kill my mother sometimes, but she was still my mother.

  “Don’t worry, she’s fine. She saw a prowler. Stalker John, as it turns out. He was trying to look in the windows. He left you another carnation.”

  I collapsed back against the sofa cushions, pounding heart slowing.

  Mark dragged my feet from under his thigh (where I’d tucked them for warmth), cupping them in his palms and massaging them, his thumbs smoothing over the curve of my arch before digging into the balls.

  I groaned. It felt sooooo good.

  “He told the police you were his girlfriend and he came over to leave a surprise flower for you.”

  “His girlfriend?” I shuddered again. I’d rather go viral in the dateless and desperate video then go out with Stalker John again.

  “I explained that to the police. Of course, they’d already heard all about the whole Underground station situation.” Great, that was all I needed. “They want us to go over to the police station later, so you can give a statement and see about applying to get a restraining order.”

  “Maybe I should just give up on trying to find someone to date me and go for an arranged marriage. At least I wouldn’t have to go on another date.”

  “You do know that with arranged marriages, it’s your parents who do the arranging, don’t you? I’m sure Muriel would be all for the idea, but you find it hard enough when she encourages you to go on a date.”

  He grunted when my foot accidently on purpose made contact with his family jewels. Wincing, he moved my foot to a less delicate area. There was no encouragement. It was blackmail, pure and simple. He knew it. He was actively participating.

  “It’s blackmail, and you’re her henchman, spying on me,” I said. “If you hadn’t forced me to go on that date with John, I wouldn’t have a stalker.”

  “Hey, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” His jaw clenched briefly, then he cut me a look, navy eyes homing in on mine. “Don’t be pissed because I wouldn’t let you stand up the best offer you got.” He wrapped a warm hand around my cold feet.

  Insensitive git. “It was one dinner, and I paid half.”

  “Did you make it clear you weren’t interested in seeing him again?”

  “Yes.” I left an hour into our date.

  He did the irritating eyebrow hitch. “Uh-huh.”

  “I did. When he said, ‘Maybe we could see each other again?’ I said ‘maybe’ in a no tone.”

  “May
be. In. A. No. Tone. Seriously?”

  “Yes!”

  He frowned at me like I was some sort of alien being. “Funnily enough, KT, ‘maybe’ doesn’t mean ‘no’ in guy speak, no matter what tone you use. Maybe means maybe, as in a guy has a chance.”

  “I was letting him down easily.” In spite of what Mark might think, I didn’t like being catty. “We didn’t exchange contact details. I even went halves on dinner, so we didn’t have to meet up again to even things out.”

  He shook his head, blinking at me slowly. “You kissed him.”

  “He kissed me. On the cheek. Mostly.”

  He shrugged. “Mixed signals.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. If he thought there was something between us, he could have asked me out again. If he ever does, I promise to say no in a tone even the densest of men can understand.”

  “Hmm.” His lips were pressed together in way that didn’t bode well for Stalker John’s chance of ever getting close enough to ask me on a second date.

  * * * * *

  “Why are you doing clattering around here half-naked?” Yawning, I stretched out the kinks from my post-Nashville series four marathon nap. It had taken over a week of stress and a court appearance, but I was now the proud owner of a restraining order.

  “Ironing.” Mark grunted, abs rippling, tanned bicep bunching as he ran the iron over his shirt. Hmm. Yummy, muscles.

  “I thought you were setting up home with Cindy tonight.”

  “Funny. You should write jokes for the Christmas cracker people – you’re that good.” He didn’t fool me. I could see the twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “There’s nothing for you to get jealous about, KT. We’re just going for a date. We’re not making a lifetime commitment.” I didn’t care if he was just waving at her in passing. I didn’t like it. Or her. “And her name is Barbie.”

  “I knew it was something American, fake, and plastic.”

  “Whereas you’re more of a Bratz girl.”