by Nina Kaye
Then Josh coming around last night. How he was able to distract me from all that, just through being so uncomplicated and attentive, and adorable. And unbelievably hot. We have such an amazing time together, and apart from the lack of interesting, brain-stimulating conversation, he’s everything I could possibly want.
But maybe that’s OK. Maybe he’ll grow into it. He is only twenty-three. Maybe it’s not actually that important; it’s just that having such incredibly thought-provoking, edge-of-your-seat conversation with Graham magnifies that one gap between Josh and me. Maybe if I didn’t continue my online interactions with Graham, I could be more settled with Josh. All I know for certain about Graham is that he has this one strength that Josh does not. What if that’s the only box he actually ticks?
My instincts immediately start to debate that point. I can’t believe that Graham is no more than a good conversationalist. There are clues all over our interactions that he’s more than that. I just don’t yet have the physical proof.
I realise I’m not just confused, I’m horribly conflicted. I don’t want to hurt Josh, and the idea of not being with him fills me with great sadness, but I know I can’t just turn off this online relationship I’ve developed either. Having slept on the disappointment of Graham telling me he couldn’t meet me just yet, I’ve woken even more determined that we will meet. Because that’s who I am. Who I learned to be at such a young age. No one was ever going to guide me or open the right doors for me. I had to do it all myself. And I’ll do it again.
Restless and not wanting to wake Josh, I gently slip out from under his huge muscular arm and pad along my laminate hallway floor to the kitchen living room. I make myself a cup of coffee and curl up on the couch with my laptop, deciding I’ll write a new blog post as a distraction.
As I’m creating a new file for my workings, I remember that my first blog-related payments are due from my advertising and affiliations. I quickly log into my bank account and see that they’ve actually been paid over the last couple of days. It’s not a lot, but I’m delighted that I’ve earned this money all by myself (OK, with a lot of help from Dylan), and that I’ve earned it because people enjoy my writing. I grab my phone and quickly tap out a text to Dylan.
I made £63.37 in my first month! It’s there in my bank account. I can’t believe it. xx
Expecting that he’ll be at work and unable to reply, I put my phone down and go back to preparing my new file for my blog post, but within a couple of minutes my phone lights up with a new message.
Nice one, Squirt. As long as you keep writing and getting more subscribers, that number will only go up. How much do you need to cover your monthly shortfall?
Good question. I do a quick calculation, taking into account the generous tips I get from wealthy clients in the bar, but being cautious and reducing that amount by around a third, as it’s not guaranteed income.
I think around £500–600 a month. Reyes says the tips at the hotel do fluctuate a bit, but are generally pretty good, and she’s been there quite a while.
Dylan replies quickly.
You could manage that level of income within a few months if all goes well. Maybe have a think about how you can diversify your portfolio. Like developing your blog site further and covering different topics, or maybe starting another blogging project altogether. Or look at alternative online options. You could have a few things on the go at once.
I screw up my face at his words. ‘Diversify my portfolio’? That’s not the way Dylan usually speaks. I quickly fire back a response to that effect.
Look at you using posh words! Something I should know?? OK, will have a think. Not so terrifying now I’ve done one. Maybe I can bounce my ideas off you?
His reply is almost instant.
Moving up in the world. Inspired by you. No probs. Happy to help. No need to do anything straight away. Keep your main focus on growing your blog site, just work on some ideas so you have them ready when you need them.
I smile at his words. Between us, Dylan was always the one who was less sure of himself. It was always me giving him advice and telling him he could be more than what statistics predicted for people from our background. Funny how things have switched recently. Now it’s him giving me advice.
I return to the empty file and start to type, but for some reason I just can’t get my words to flow. Still plagued by my own personal dilemma – who is the right man for me? – it’s almost impossible to focus on anything else. How can I solve this one? I need some advice, and not from Dylan or Reyes. They’re too close. They’ll automatically tell me to ditch Graham and stick with Josh. I need impartial advice.
Suddenly a thought pops into my mind. I know how to get my answer.
Chapter 24
It’s not often I see the same daters more than once, but occasionally I get such a treat. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been lucky enough to witness the dating antics of one particular woman several times. It’s like having access to my own private soap opera, only unscheduled, and I have to fill in a lot of the gaps myself.
‘She’s a Tinder fiend!’ I hear you cry. Actually, no. She’s been in eight times, four times each with one of two different blokes. Let’s call them Bill and Bob.
It’s becoming quite clear to me that this woman (let’s call her Amanda) is finding it difficult to choose between them. And to be honest, I can’t blame her. Here’s why:
Bob is super-smoking-hot. He’s the man almost every woman longs to be with. Dazzlingly white perfect teeth, tanned skin (from the actual sun, not a bottle), and (I’m making an educated guess here!) washboard stomach, complemented by a tank-like solid upper body. He oozes charm, leads the banter, draws Amanda in like some kind of industrial-scale magnet. No question: she is head over ballerina pumps in lust.
Now here’s the curious bit: our Adonis reincarnate (that’s assuming the God of Love was ever actually incarnate) has women quite literally wilting like day-old salad at the sight of him. But he doesn’t even notice them. I’ve watched as one sultry sex kitten after the next has tried to lever his attention away – when Amanda nips to the loo, checks her phone, even when he’s heading to the gents himself – but he doesn’t so much as register their existence. He is completely into Amanda – and Amanda alone.
‘Is there really a dilemma here?’ I hear you ask. Actually, yes. Because is Bob everything a girl could possibly want, that is, unless she wants a man who stimulates her mind as well as her libido. As much as Bob ticks almost every box, he’s not ticking that one. How do I know this? Because I’ve taken it upon myself to join Amanda in her quest to figure out which of these men is ‘the one’. Plainly put: I enthusiastically eavesdrop on all their conversations. And every time Amanda so much as dips her toe into the subjects of world politics, climate change, the growing chasm of inequality in the world, Bob either steers her back to lighter topics with a well-placed quip, or simply looks at her blankly and swiftly changes the subject. When he does this, I see the almost undetectable disappointment in her face.
So, on to Bill. Bill is not the total opposite to Bob. But he’s not nearly in the same league from a physical point of view – don’t think I’ve ever seen a man who is. Bill is just a normal bloke. Not ripped. No TV-ad pearly whites. He’s actually got a hint of a paunch he’s trying to hide under his shirt. He doesn’t have the easy charm that Bob uses to shower Amanda with endless innuendo-fuelled flirty banter, unrivalled affection and beautifully timed compliments. But he does have a secret weapon. He can engage – no – mesmerise Amanda with his mind alone. Because he does talk world politics, climate change, the growing chasm of inequality in the world.
‘But surely that gets boring quickly,’ I hear you say. Actually, no. Bill takes Amanda to places she’s been longing to reach with Bob – and she doesn’t just love it, she lights up like fireworks. Because Bill’s wit and humour are razor sharp. He has Amanda desperately clutching her stomach muscles as he takes her on an intellectual and rollicking roller coaster
every time they meet.
‘So, then Bill must be “the one”!’ I hear you cry. Actually, it’s not that simple. Because with Bill, Amanda is quite clearly not head over ballerina pumps in lust – not yet anyway. And as much as we all try to deny it to avoid seeming shallow, sexual chemistry is important.
Hopefully, now you see the dilemma. Amanda’s perfect man is in fact Bill and Bob combined. But as the perfect man doesn’t exist, she has to make a choice. Who to choose? I know I’d be struggling. Just when I find myself leaning towards one, I’m drawn back to the other. All I can really say at this stage is that it’s one of those nice dilemmas in life. But I’m glad it’s not mine.
This week I’m proposing a drink to toast each of Amanda’s wonderful men – because no matter who she eventually chooses, it seems she’ll be on to a winner. For super-sexy Bob, it’s got to be a Spicy Red Snapper (AKA gin’s answer to the Bloody Mary – a piquant blend of gin, tomato juice, fresh lemon juice, generous dashes of hot pepper and Worcestershire sauces, finished with a little seasoning), and for Bill, the mind-blowing-yet-sophisticated Earl Grey G&T (a simply genius combination of gin, chilled earl grey tea, simple syrup, tonic and lime peel to garnish).
As usual, featured cocktail recipes are below. Looking forward to your verdicts on the gin, the men and Amanda’s ‘dilemma’!
‘Chica, I am loving your new post.’ Reyes looks up from the phone screen. ‘But it is strange. This episode, it is like your life.’
It’s two days later and Reyes and I are doing the usual preparations behind the bar for our evening shift.
‘It’s exactly my life,’ I confirm, as Reyes hands my phone back to me. ‘Well, exactly in the sense that I’ve used my own personal dilemma as inspiration for this one. I haven’t watched this unfold in the bar – I’m living with it day to day.’
‘This writing is about you? But, why?’ Reyes looks confused as she pours ice into the ice buckets from a much larger container. ‘Are you not having enough ideas for your blog from the customers?’
‘Of course, I am.’ I pause momentarily from slicing the fruit garnishes. ‘There’s endless material in here. But I’m getting eaten up by this whole thing with Josh and Graham, my online… whatever he is. I wanted to get some advice… no, perspectives… from people who aren’t close to the situation – people who wouldn’t just automatically side with Josh, like you and Dylan.’
‘We are with Josh because he is real and we are knowing him.’ Reyes shrugs. ‘Josh is amazing. He is so into our chica. But this other hombre, he is not real – not yet.’
‘I know that.’ I nod. ‘And that did make things a bit more difficult when I was writing this blog post. I had to make up a physical appearance for Graham, which might be nothing like him at all. But essentially, it’s down to one thing – what’s more important to me? Is it the physical or the non-physical connection? My subscribers love to offer their perspectives and opinions.’
‘And you are getting this perspective that you need?’ Reyes asks.
‘Well… yes.’ I bob my head from side to side in a non-committal way. ‘They’ve commented in droves. But to be honest, I’m no clearer than I was. I had expected there to be a landslide in one direction, but there’s such a range of views, I’m no further forward. Take a look.’
I scroll down to the comments section at the bottom of my post and hand my phone back to Reyes. She starts to read aloud.
SexiBetti: Go for the hot ripped guy!! Especially if he’s a faithful one. That’s every girl’s dream!
Redhead93: No way! Amanda should hold out for the perfect guy! If all these characteristics are so important to her, she should try to find them all in one man – it might take a while but it’s possible. Never settle! I didn’t.
CandyCrushIcedTea: Did you find your perfect man then, Redhead93? Any tips?
Redhead93: Not yet. But he’s out there. I know it.
CandyCrushIcedTea: Right… Good luck with that…
TickTockClock: That earl grey g&t is rockin!! Found my new favourite drink. Ta, MissGinFizz.
Sugar’n’Spice87: Looks fade but a good mind can last a lifetime. It’s so obvious that this woman is better off with Bill. Otherwise she’ll live out her middle and old age bored and unfulfilled.
GemmaLC: Sure. But a lifetime of having to close your eyes during sex isn’t ideal either. Trust me, I know from experience…
Andy1996: Don’t choose. Have them both. Just don’t tell them. ;)
KitKatCat: Yeah ’cos that always works out well. You’re such a typical male chauvinist, Andy1996. Lucky for Amanda she hasn’t come across you.
Andy1996: I’m a woman, you idiot. Andy is a unisex name. Don’t be so judgemental.
KitKatCat: LOL. Sorry about that. Still think your idea’s stupid though.
Reyes reads right to the bottom of the comments, then looks up and regards me sympathetically. ‘I am seeing why this is not helpful, Chica.’
‘Right?’ I let out a sigh of resignation. ‘I’m even more confused than I was in the first place.’
‘This is because your opinion is what is important. The answer is clear. You must meet with this Graham. And then you know exactly who you choose.’
‘I want to,’ I say. ‘I’ve even suggested it. But he’s told me he can’t meet me yet.’
‘Why is this?’ Reyes suddenly looks suspicious. ‘What he is telling you?’
‘Just that he can’t meet me yet. That’s it. Oh, and that he has some complications in his life just now.’
‘He is marriage.’ Reyes’s eyes fill with concern.
‘You mean married, right?’ I cock my head to one side. ‘Not marriage material.’
‘Yes, yes. This is what I say. He has wife. And children. You must choose Josh.’
‘Hang on.’ I laugh. ‘That’s just one possibility. And one I’ve already considered. In addition to Dylan’s unattractive late middle-aged man, prison inmate and mass murderer theories. But that’s all speculation. Graham and I have been chatting since he told me that, and he’s asked me to trust him. I feel that I should. It just means I have to wait a bit longer – which isn’t easy at all. I’m not a very patient person.’
‘Chica, please.’ Reyes doesn’t look totally comfortable with this. ‘I am just asking that you are taking care. When you are meeting with him, Dylan and me, we will come and be near – we will keep you safe as housing.’
‘OK, sure.’ I laugh. ‘I know I’ll be in good hands with the two of you around.’
A few hours later, I head to the staff canteen for my break.
Once I’ve waited in the small queue and filled my plate with a rather delicious-smelling portion of steak pie, boiled potatoes and mixed vegetables, I settle into a seat at the far end, away from the other staff members who are also having some downtime. Before even my first bite, I unlock my phone, open up my blog chat app and send an instant message to Graham.
MissGinFizz: Are you there? I’m on my break. Got about 20 mins to chat.
I set my phone down beside me and take a mouthful of steak pie, which tastes just as good as it smells. Before I’ve even swallowed, my phone lights up beside me.
GrahamLeeton: I am indeed. How are you today? Still trusting me, I hope. :)
My stomach does a little flip as I read the words in front of me. I realise this is the first time that’s happened. Before I had always been thrilled, excited even, when Graham messaged me, but it was in more of a sucked into the conversation kind of way. This feels more like actual chemistry – like a full-on teenage crush. I tap out a response.
MissGinFizz: I’m still trusting you. But also impatient. Are you not?
He replies instantly, triggering an avalanche of messages between us.
GrahamLeeton: Of course I am. But I know that good things come to those who wait. :)
MissGinFizz: Ah, the slogan from the old Guinness adverts. You’re quite the literary genius. ;)
MissGinFizz: Also gives away that you were of dri
nking age in 1998 or thereabouts. Thank goodness I can now score ‘spotty teenage boy pretending to be grown man’ off my list.
GrahamLeeton: You have a list??
MissGinFizz: Yup. And you do not want to know what else is on it.
GrahamLeeton: Hmmm… think I need to take some remedial action here. Should I tell you a bit more about myself? So you don’t need to make it all up.
MissGinFizz: That would be nice. :)
GrahamLeeton: What would you like to know?
MissGinFizz: OK, err… what do you do?
GrahamLeeton: Seriously? You’re going to lead with that again?
I curse under my breath, realising my mistake. Why am I still so obsessed with position and status? Even now, after everything I’ve been through and learned about myself.
MissGinFizz: OK, start again… just give me a moment…
MissGinFizz: I know… what’s your favourite film?
GrahamLeeton: Easy. Star Wars: Return of the Jedi. Still remember watching it with for the first time with my dad.
I quickly look up the original Star Wars trilogy on Wikipedia, sucking in my breath nervously as I read the content. Return of the Jedi was released in 1983, which means he must be at least forty. Shit. That’s not a good sign. Chances are he’s probably a good bit older. The mature, balding man from Dylan’s musings returns to haunt me. I realise I need some reassurance – but without giving away my intentions.
MissGinFizz: Sounds like it’s a nice memory in more than one way. Did your dad take you to see it in the cinema? Were you one of those geeky teenagers who queued for hours?
Holding my breath, I await his reply.
GrahamLeeton: Nope. Watched it at home on a VHS recorder borrowed from my uncle (I assume you’re old enough to remember those?). Cinema trips weren’t something my family could afford. Same question back at you, what’s your favourite film?