Ex, The

by Moriarty, Nicola

  She was trying to figure out the best way to deal with them. Should she get physical? Jab them in the ribs with her elbows so she could make her escape — the same way she used to when she was young and her brothers were wrestling with her?

  But then another voice intruded. ‘Hey guys, how about you give her some space?’

  Georgia twisted around and saw a third guy with blond hair standing behind them, taller than either of them, although he didn’t look as well-built as Checked Shirt. If the three of them got into a fight, she wasn’t sure how well he would fare. He gave her a quick smile before focusing his attention back on the two blokes and Georgia felt an unexpected jolt. She wanted to see that smile again.

  ‘Get lost, mate, she’s fine,’ said the paunchier one.

  ‘How about you let her speak for herself?’

  Her confidence bolstered, Georgia spoke more firmly. ‘Yeah, actually. What he said. I’d like you to give me some bloody space, thanks.’

  A bartender appeared in front of them. ‘Everything okay here?’ He threw a tea towel over his shoulder and folded his arms as he looked between the four of them.

  Her would-be saviour spoke up. ‘It will be, once these two morons get the message they’re not wanted here.’

  ‘Gentlemen?’ The bartender eyed them and then nodded his head towards the door, where a stocky security guard was stationed. The message was clear, and the two guys threw him a filthy look as they admitted defeat and headed for the door.

  The bartender turned his attention to Georgia. ‘Really sorry about that. I’ve been keeping an eye on those two all night but I got busy and didn’t realise they’d started hassling you. It was Burning Man you were drinking, wasn’t it? I’ll grab you one on the house.’

  Georgia was about to decline, but the thought of heading out alone straight after those two wasn’t appealing. ‘Okay, thanks,’ she said.

  The blond guy gave her a sympathetic look. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine,’ she told him, but there was a slight wobble to her voice.

  ‘Really?’ His voice was soft and knowing, and Georgia gave in.

  ‘Okay. I didn’t love the fact that I had to be rescued just now.’

  She was rewarded with another one of those quick smiles and she saw a deep dimple appear on his left cheek. Was that what made his smile so appealing?

  ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘You didn’t need rescuing. You looked like you were about to handle them yourself, but you were outnumbered so it was hardly fair.’

  ‘Thank you, that was really kind of you. I’m Georgia, by the way.’

  ‘Luke.’

  Georgia offered her hand and it was enveloped in a warm, firm grip. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘You too. I’ve seen those blokes hassling women here before,’ he added. ‘Hopefully they won’t let them in again.’

  ‘So, you just hang out here rescuing people?’

  ‘Ha! Not exactly. I was here tonight with a few work mates and hung around for one more drink after they left — found myself people-watching.’ He nodded his head at the stool next to Georgia. ‘You mind?’

  ‘All yours.’ Georgia couldn’t help noticing the movement of his biceps under his shirt as he sat down and leaned his elbows on the bar. Maybe she’d been wrong when she’d thought he wouldn’t have been able to take on those other two idiots.

  ‘Are you here alone?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I was meant to . . .’ Georgia felt her cheeks warm slightly at having to admit she’d been stood up, but Luke jumped in for her.

  ‘Don’t tell me — some Tinder wanker stood you up?’

  She couldn’t help laughing. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Because it’s totally happened to me. And it sucks. Wow, what a shitty night for you.’

  ‘Yeah, kinda has been.’

  The bartender placed her cocktail in front of her. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘just shout if you need me to get rid of this guy for you next.’

  ‘Oi,’ Luke protested.

  Georgia laughed. ‘Nah, he can stay.’ She stirred her drink with her straw then picked it up and sipped it.

  ‘So, who was he?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The guy you were meant to meet.’

  ‘Oh right. His name was Brett.’

  ‘Brett? Rubbish name. That was your first mistake.’

  ‘Rubbish? What’s rubbish about the name Brett?’

  ‘The fact that he stood you up.’ He grinned and the dimple returned, but this time she noticed that it was his eyes. That was what made his smile so hot — his eyes crinkled and they were a pale grey-green and Georgia had to look away and clear her throat before she could respond.

  ‘I don’t think he stood me up because his name is Brett.’

  ‘How do you know? It could be a character trait closely associated with the name.’

  ‘All right, well, what was the name of the girl who stood you up then?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know when. You said it had happened to you.’

  ‘Oh, no. No one’s ever stood me up, I was just trying to make you feel better. You really think anyone’s going to stand all of this up?’ He motioned to himself and Georgia reached out to whack his arm with the back of her hand.

  ‘Are you kidding me right now?’

  He dodged her and laughed. ‘Yes. I’m kidding. Her name was Laura.’

  ‘Laura? Well there you go. Lauras definitely stand people up. Laura and Brett should probably get married.’

  ‘Actually, I have a feeling Laura was a sixty-year-old man named Bruce. I did a reverse Google image search on her picture afterwards and it turned out to be a stock photo.’

  ‘Hey, at least you didn’t get conned into competing with fifty other guys for a date with Laura like that weird Tinder date in New York.’

  ‘What? What happened?’

  ‘I was reading about it on Facebook the other day. This model invited a whole heap of guys she’d connected with on Tinder to the same date, and then when they arrived she made them all compete “Hunger Games” style to go on the date with her. Apparently she had them doing push-ups and sprints.’

  ‘Oh my God, that is weird.’ He paused. ‘Hey, you want another drink?’

  Georgia looked down at her glass. She hadn’t even realised she’d downed it so fast while they were chatting. ‘Yeah, why not? But I’ll buy, I owe you one.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  ‘Yes, I do. You rescued me from a shitty, shitty night, so let me buy you a drink.’

  They motioned to the bartender and ordered. Georgia managed to pay only by throwing out an arm to stop Luke from passing his card across. ‘I told you, my shout,’ she said crossly. ‘What it is with men and their determination to pay for everything? You can buy the next round.’

  ‘All right, all right. As long as you let me get the next one, then fine. Hey,’ said Luke as they waited for their drinks, ‘have I ever run into you here before? I’m suddenly thinking you look a bit familiar.’ He stared right at her and Georgia felt herself warming under his gaze.

  ‘Umm, I’m never actually been here before. My usual is the Bella Vista Hotel.’

  ‘Ah well, maybe I’ve just spotted you there. Although . . .’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘Although what?’

  ‘Well, it seems wrong. See, if I had spotted you before I’m pretty sure I would have tried to hit on you. Hope you didn’t shoot me down.’

  ‘Oh my God, imagine if that had happened.’ She gave Luke a smile. ‘Although . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have.’

  Luke smiled back at her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Georgia was feeling very 1990s Disney rom-com when she stepped inside her tiny one-bedroom apartment, the smile on her face making her cheeks hurt. Any minute now a small blue cartoon bird would land on her shoulder and she’d burst into song. Although her apart
ment wasn’t really large enough or tidy enough for her to start spinning around in circles, singing about meeting Prince Charming. She’d probably trip over a basket of dirty washing and break a lamp.

  They’d stayed at the pub chatting for a good two hours. She’d learned that Luke worked as a sales rep for an office supplies company, that his favourite music was R’n’B, and that he liked weightlifting and cycling. In response, she’d made him flex his biceps so she could see how genuine he was. It was an excellent excuse to touch his arms, and she’d conceded that he was, in fact, quite genuine. She liked that his muscles were lean like Ryan Reynolds’ rather than bulging like The Rock’s.

  In return, she’d told Luke about her job as a nurse, that she loved getting to know her patients even though there wasn’t usually the time, that she had four brothers, and also that she could recite every word to Salt-N-Pepa’s ‘Shoop’. Obviously, she had to back up her claim by immediately reciting the lyrics while Luke looked it up on his phone to check her accuracy.

  When they’d eventually decided to call it a night, he’d walked her home and kissed her chastely on the cheek before calling an Uber for himself.

  Stop it, she reprimanded herself now. Do not get carried away. She lifted her hands to her face to massage her cheeks and try to wipe the smile away. Just because tonight went well didn’t mean he was going to end up being ‘the one’. How many times before had she met a guy and thought they’d hit it off, only for him to ghost her out of nowhere? And why did they so often end up doing that after one, two or even three dates? Probably because she chased them away with her own fears and insecurities. You have a shitty history with men, Georgia, never forget that. Luke might not even call.

  As if on cue she felt her phone buzz with a text message. She pulled it out to take a look.

  Hey Georgia, this is Luke . . . from the pub . . . from tonight . . . from like, five minutes ago, actually. And now I’m saying that, I’m realising it’s way too soon to text you, right? Oops.

  Georgia couldn’t help laughing out loud. She pushed away the nasty thoughts and took herself back to the place where she’d been when she first walked in the door. Blue cartoon birds of happiness. She kicked off her heels and walked over to her couch where she sat down with her legs tucked up underneath her before tapping out a reply:

  Yep. You’ve blown it. Shown all your cards. Bugger. What are we going to do now?

  Luke shot back:

  Well clearly, you’re going to have to show me some of your cards.

  Georgia stared at her phone trying to think of a reply that was somehow witty and sexy and clever all at once. Did she keep the whole card analogy going? Did she turn ‘showing him her cards’ into a metaphor for something more explicit? God, flirting was hard sometimes.

  Okay, I’ve got it. I’m going to have to even things out by asking you out for a drink before you ask me. Sound good? Puts us back on a level playing field.

  Oh my God she’s a genius. And I would love to . . . but how about we make it dinner?

  Sold.

  The smile was back. Georgia couldn’t help it. It had been such a long time since she’d met a guy and it had been this much fun. And really, why shouldn’t she feel optimistic about the potential for things to go well? You’ll meet someone when you least expect it. That’s what her mum always said when Georgia complained she was sick of being alone. Although this was often alternated with, however, solitude really is a wonderful thing.

  That was kind of what had happened tonight, wasn’t it? Well, she was expecting to meet someone; she’d just thought it would be Brett. She wasn’t annoyed with him for standing her up anymore, she was glad. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have met Luke.

  She lay back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, then immediately realised the ceiling was swaying. She’d had way too many cocktails to lie flat on her back yet. She sat back up again, burped loudly and chuckled to herself. Glad I didn’t do that in front of him.

  She headed into the kitchen for a glass of water, which she forced herself to drink in one go before refilling it and taking it back to the couch where she picked up her phone again and texted Marcus. You up? A few seconds later, the phone was ringing.

  ‘What’s up?’ he said. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Why do you assume there’s a problem?’ she asked. ‘I just wanted to chat while I wait for the room to stop spinning enough that I can go to bed.’

  ‘Ah, now I see. My little sister has gone and got herself scuttered. Georgia Fitzpatrick, tut, tut, tut.’

  ‘Have not. Well, maybe a little. Well, maybe quite a bit. Is scuttered even a word anyway? I don’t think it is. What’s happening in your world?’

  ‘Not much, you know, work, gym, the usual. Oh yeah, and that whole “I’m getting MARRIED in a month” thing.’

  ‘Are you stressed? No cold feet, right?’

  ‘Nope, I’m all good. Bianca’s super organised so there’s not really much that I have to do — apart from wear a nice suit and show up.’

  ‘You typical bloody bloke. Man, I can’t believe you’re getting married and I haven’t even met your future wife yet.’

  ‘You’ve FaceTimed her.’

  ‘Not the same as meeting in person. Anyway, she might have it all under control now, but make sure you’re ready to help in case there’s any last-minute panic. Remember Troy’s wedding? Mum was meant to pick up the cake but she forgot and Chloe had a major meltdown.’

  ‘All right, I’ll make sure I’m ready to swoop in and save the day if needed. Room stopped spinning yet? I need to get to sleep, early start in the morning.’

  ‘Yeah I’m good. Night.’

  ‘Night, little Fitz.’

  Georgia hung up the phone and was about to head to bed when she thought of something. She found a scrap of paper and a pen and scribbled down the words: You might have met someone tonight! Then she found her ‘happiness jar’ and pushed the note inside before replacing the lid. Once upon a time, she needed to find reasons to write notes for this jar as often as possible. Anything to help her believe that her life was good. But she’d actually forgotten about it these last few months. It was nice to add a new reason to be happy to the jar tonight.

  *

  Throughout the week, Luke messaged her the perfect number of times. Not so many that it felt over the top, considering they were only just about to have their first date. But he didn’t go so quiet for her to worry he’d lost interest. Just the odd, ‘looking forward to Friday’ messages that made her skin tingle with anticipation.

  As promised, she’d been in to see Jerry to tell him how the failed Tinder date had gone. He’d been so cross when he heard she’d been stood up that she was worried his blood pressure was going to spike. But when he heard about Luke’s chivalrous actions he’d calmed down and listened quietly as she told him all about Luke.

  ‘Sounding a bit smitten,’ he said when she was done.

  ‘Not smitten . . . yet,’ she replied. ‘Just hopeful.’

  ‘Well, don’t forget that it’s fine to take these things slowly.’

  ‘Trust me, with my track record, I’m all about taking it slow.’ She’d meant for it to come out sounding light-hearted, but from the creased lines on Jerry’s forehead, she realised she’d sounded more bitter than she’d intended. ‘Sorry,’ she said quickly, ‘I just mean that . . . I umm, I’ve had my fair share of mistakes.’

  ‘What happened?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘Oh, no, nothing in particular, I just mean the usual kind of dating stuff.’

  ‘Georgia, respectfully, that sounds like bullshit.’

  ‘Jerry!’ Georgia laughed. ‘Okay, okay, there’s a story, but it’s not something I’m all that fond of chatting about, so we’ll leave it there.’ She kept her tone firm so for once Jerry knew she meant business and didn’t try to push her on it.

  *

  When Friday finally arrived, Georgia was the most nervous she’d been before a first date in a long time. Amber sat c
ross-legged on the bed while Georgia changed into black jeans and a silvery top. Her bed was the one indulgent thing she owned in her apartment. It was a king-sized four-poster, with sheer purple curtains, and it made her feel like a princess. Her parents had bought it for her for her birthday four years ago. It was the most extravagant birthday gift they’d ever given to one of their children and Georgia knew full-well the purchase had been fuelled by pure guilt because they weren’t there at a time when she most needed them. But that wasn’t something Georgia liked to think about. The bed left little space for much else in her room but she didn’t care, she adored it.

  She and Amber had been out that afternoon for coffee and Amber had invited herself back to help her get ready.

  ‘Amber, I’m a grown woman, I don’t need “help” to get ready for a date,’ Georgia had said as they’d left the coffee shop.

  ‘But that’s what the best friend always does in movies,’ Amber had protested. ‘And besides, I have nothing else to do because you’re ditching me tonight.’

  ‘I’m not ditching you. It’s not like we had plans.’

  ‘Well, it’s more like a standing arrangement for Friday night drinks,’ Amber grumbled.

  ‘How can there be a standing arrangement for Friday drinks when half the time our shifts don’t even line up?’

  Amber often seemed needier on the weekends she didn’t have Violet.

  Now, as Georgia got down on her hands and knees to find her favourite heels at the back of her cupboard, Amber let out a huge yawn.

  ‘Doesn’t sound like you’d have been up for a big night out anyway,’ Georgia said as she crawled back out of the cupboard with her shoes in one hand.

  ‘I would have rallied. What are you doing with your hair? Up or down?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Georgia gathered her long curly hair up with one hand to demonstrate.

  Amber twisted her face in thought. ‘Drop it back down again.’