The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating: A sparkling and hilarious feel good romantic comedy

by Nina Kaye

  ‘A mineral water?’ She looks at me as if I’ve grown a unicorn horn.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Right. Still or sparkling?’

  ‘Sparkling, please.’ I smile politely at her. ‘With ice and a wedge of fresh lime if you can.’

  The waitress stares at me with a bored face, then walks off. There’s one possibility for my new blog site right there.

  Once the grumpy waitress has grudgingly delivered my drink, I sit back and take in my surroundings. There’s a female same-sex couple sitting side-by-side near the bar, completely engrossed in each other, giggling away. I feel a little pang of jealousy as I think how nice it would be to have someone I felt that way about. For a moment, my mind wanders to Graham, but I catch it quickly, acutely aware that I need to stay focused. While they are clearly relationship role models, I decide this couple don’t inspire me to write. My eyes roam past groups of work colleagues and friends; eventually landing on a rather frisky couple sitting in the far corner. Bingo. Exactly what I need.

  Presently glued together by the mouth, I can’t see much of them, but one thing’s clear: they’re not shy – my favourite source of inspiration. I surreptitiously observe them as they continue to devour each other; hoping they’ll come up for air soon, to give me something to work with. As I glance towards them once more, the surly waitress stalks past and clocks the direction of my gaze.

  ‘Mingin’ eh?’ She huffs. ‘Don’t know why they bother leavin’ the house. Like I wanna look at that all night.’

  I chuckle to myself. Thank you, surly waitress. You’ve just given me the beginnings of something to work with.

  After about ten minutes of steamy snogging, the couple finally pull apart. I take in their faces and feel the colour drain from my face. It’s Dylan and Reyes.

  ‘What the…’ Without thinking, I jump up and march determinedly across the bar towards them. ‘You two are so busted.’

  Having failed to notice my approach, they’re completely caught off guard.

  ‘Squirt! Balls! Didn’t realise this is one of your new haunts.’ Dylan’s face starts to colour. ‘You know Reyes, right?’

  ‘Hilarious, Dylan.’ I shoot him a withering look.

  Reyes, who isn’t remotely fazed by being rumbled cheating on her husband, hops off her seat and greets me with her usual continental kisses.

  ‘Chica. This is surprise! Nice surprise. You are good, yes?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ I’m now standing with my hands on my hips. ‘But I hardly think that I’m the surprise in all of this. How did… what’s going on… I mean… spill. Every last detail. Now!’

  ‘I’m not sure you want every last detail.’ Dylan gives me a cheeky wink.

  ‘You know what I mean.’ I flash him my death stare, wondering how he can be so blasé about getting caught with a married woman – and my good friend.

  ‘Chica, please. You must sit.’ Reyes sits back down and pats the cushion next to her.

  ‘Let me get my stuff first,’ I mutter.

  I return to my table to retrieve my jacket, bag and drink that I irresponsibly abandoned because of the shock, then join them once more.

  ‘Is that… mineral water?’ Dylan asks.

  ‘I can’t afford anything else,’ I grumble.

  ‘Let me get you something stronger.’ He signals for the waitress. ‘Think you need it. Anything you want.’

  Annoyed that Dylan has clearly been hiding this from me, while all the time lecturing me on my own questionable romantic choices, I decide he owes me one.

  ‘OK. I’ll have a Gin Fizz.’ I fix a smug that’ll-teach-you-to-keep-secrets smile on my face.

  He instinctively scans the open drinks menu on the table, and his face pains. ‘That costs nearly a tenner. For one drink. Not lost your taste for that poncey shit, I see.’

  ‘You said I could have anything I want.’ I shift my look to angelic. ‘And that’s what I want. Are you going to change your mind?’

  The touchy waitress finally appears, regarding me with confusion. ‘You know these two?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I do.’ I smile at her and shrug.

  ‘Poor you.’ She throws a filthy look in the direction of Dylan and Reyes.

  ‘Customer service really isn’t your thing, is it?’ I laugh.

  ‘Huh?’ She simply looks at me as if I’m irrelevant, takes the order from Dylan and stalks off again.

  ‘Right, you two.’ I turn my attention to Dylan and Reyes. ‘What the hell is this?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Dylan chuckles. ‘Or do you need a lesson on the birds and the bees?’

  ‘Don’t be a smart-arse, Dylan.’ I eyeball him. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’

  ‘Chica, do not worry.’ Reyes puts her hand on my arm reassuringly. ‘This. It is real. I am liking Dylan, and he is liking me.’

  ‘Well, that I worked out for myself.’ My tone is flat. ‘But, Reyes, you’re married. What about your husband? It doesn’t matter if you and Dylan like each other, someone’s going to get hurt here.’

  Dylan looks at Reyes. I sense an unspoken message pass between them, then Reyes nods agreement.

  ‘Chica, I am sorry. Yes, I am married, but I am also… separate.’

  ‘What?’ I look at the two of them, perplexed. ‘Like an open marriage – you see other people?’

  ‘No, not this.’ Reyes shakes her head. ‘My husband, he returns to Spain.’

  There’s a momentary pause as my drink is practically thrown in front of me by the waitress, her disgust at Dylan and Reyes’s behaviour now also directed at me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I absently acknowledge her, my attention still firmly fixed on my two friends. ‘Wait. Are you telling me you’ve separated from your husband, Reyes?’

  ‘This is correct.’ Reyes nods.

  ‘For him?’ I fail to hide my astonishment.

  ‘Hey! That’s below the belt,’ Dylan complains.

  ‘No. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.’ I take a sip of my cocktail and shake my head, trying to sort out my jumbled thoughts. ‘It’s just that Reyes’s husband is loaded. Look at the bloody rock on her finger. Reyes, why would you risk your marriage for an affair that you don’t know will go anywhere? You told me that love is so important. I just don’t understand.’

  ‘Chica, are you ever meeting my husband?’ Reyes asks me.

  ‘Well, no, but you told me—’

  ‘Why you think you are not meeting my husband?’ She searches my face. ‘We are spending this time together and you are not meeting him.’

  ‘I just assumed there was never an opportunity. Though, I suppose, other than when we first met, you’ve never really talked about him. What happened?’

  ‘He is not liking this life.’ Reyes shrugs. ‘His family is rich. He does not need to work like this. He does not want to. I am finding too late that we are too different. So, he go home.’

  ‘And you split up?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, but this is before we meet – you and me – by one month. I just am not wanting to talk about it. And the luck for me is that you are not asking. One day, when we play Snog, Marry, Avoid, I nearly tell you, but a customer interrupt us. Then I think it better you believe in our love, so you find your own.’

  ‘Right.’ I let out a huge sigh.

  I’m relieved this isn’t some sordid affair after all. But I am sad for Reyes that her marriage didn’t work out.

  As I take all this in, my eyes land on Reyes’s humongous diamond ring, glinting alluringly in the artificial lighting. She follows my gaze, answering my question before I can even ask it.

  ‘My husband is not wanting this – he tell me to keep it. What chica would not do this?’

  ‘Oh, I’m with you on that.’ We both gaze at it adoringly for a moment.

  ‘Chica, when I meet you…’ Reyes turns to me, her face serious. ‘I know that you need more in your life. You need fun and love. But you do not believe me. If I tell you that my husband is leaving, you will not think tha
t love is important.’

  ‘That would probably have been true.’ I smile at her knowingly.

  ‘But love is important.’

  Reyes gives Dylan a sickeningly love-struck look, which he returns. I realise this is real between them.

  ‘I am not stopping to believe in love just because my husband is leaving,’ she continues. ‘This is why, when you tell me that Dylan is liking me and he is online dating, that I have to date him before any other chica.’

  ‘Can you imagine how happy I was when Reyes turned up on the dating app I was on?’ Dylan’s grin is so wide, he looks goofy.

  ‘Oh, you guys.’ I feel an unexpected tightness in my throat. ‘You’re a bunch of buggers for not telling me… but I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘We didn’t want to tell you until we knew it really was something,’ says Dylan. ‘Because we knew you’d freak out. We were actually gonna tell you this week.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have freaked out.’ I suddenly realise I’ve done just that. ‘You realise the two of you can’t break up now. I am not going to choose between you.’

  ‘I think we’re probably good.’ Dylan pulls Reyes into him and plants a smacker of a kiss on the top of her head, while she giggles delightedly. ‘So, now we’re sorted, what about you, Squirt?’

  ‘What about me?’ I sigh.

  ‘Any more progress with your apartment? How’s the blogging going?’ he asks.

  ‘You are hearing anything from your online hombre?’ Reyes chips in.

  I slug at my cocktail to stall for time, while I consider my answers.

  ‘It’s actually good news with my apartment – if I can call it that. There’s already been quite a bit of interest, and it’s only been on the market for a week and a half. Apparently, my area of the city is having a surge: just been named as one of the up-and-coming places to live. I may get a little equity out of my sale after all.’

  ‘I know you really don’t want to sell, but that’s good news for your finances,’ says Dylan.

  ‘It is,’ I agree. ‘And my Gin Fizz site has continued to climb in subscribers; I’ve also gained followers on my new site much quicker by cross-referring. I’ll still be on your couch for a bit once my apartment is gone, but not too long, I hope. Especially if I can pick up a bit of bar work on the side.’

  ‘As long as you need,’ says Dylan. ‘Sean will just have to bloody deal with it.’

  ‘Chica, you come stay with me,’ Reyes says suddenly. ‘You must not be on this couch in a flat of hombres.’

  ‘What? Really?’ I look at her in hope. The thought of sleeping on Dylan’s couch not being something I was relishing; especially when one of Dylan’s flatmates has made a fuss about it.

  ‘I am insisting.’ Reyes puffs herself up in her seat. ‘I have spare room.’

  ‘There you go, Squirt.’ Dylan grins adoringly at Reyes.

  ‘Oh, this is amazing! Thanks, Reyes.’ I launch myself on her with a rather uncharacteristic and suffocating hug. ‘You’ve no idea how much I appreciate this.’

  ‘De nada, Chica.’ She laughs and hugs me back. ‘And the online hombre?’

  ‘Ah, Graham.’ I’m suddenly sobered by the change in topic of conversation. ‘I’ve still not heard a word from him. He’s just disappeared.’

  I feel a familiar sad, churning emptiness in my stomach at the thought of him.

  ‘Aww, I’m sorry,’ says Dylan. ‘It did seem like he might be a good guy in the end. It’s a shame it ended like that. But he did help you move on from something you’d been struggling with for years. Maybe he’d served his purpose. Like it was meant to be that way.’

  ‘What, you mean like fate, and being part of the bigger plan for me.’ I throw him a sarcastic look. ‘You don’t suddenly believe in stuff like that, just because you’ve bagged yourself a hot girlfriend, do you?’

  ‘What? No.’ Dylan’s face colours. ‘Shut it, you douche. I just mean that he maybe wasn’t going to be your perfect guy, and he knew that. So, he moved on – but he did have that impact on your life.’

  ‘Or maybe this complication in his life gets more complicated. He has to stop speaking with you?’ Reyes suggests.

  ‘I guess it could be either. Or neither.’ I sigh again. ‘I know I never met him in person, but I miss him so much. I really feel like I’ve been ditched by the man of my dreams.’

  ‘You will meet other perfect hombre.’ Reyes squeezes my arm. ‘I know this. I am so proud of you. You make big progress.’

  I laugh weakly. ‘You think? Because from where I’m standing, my love life looks like one big car crash. Speaking of which, how’s Josh doing?’

  ‘He is OK,’ says Reyes. ‘There is new receptionist who is liking him. He say he not ready but I can see he is already flirting with this woman in staff canteen.’

  ‘That’s good.’ I feel an overwhelming sense of relief, and just a smattering of unjustified envy. ‘I hope she’s nice. Josh is such a lovely guy. He deserves to find someone who’ll treat him really well.’

  ‘She is nice,’ Reyes confirms. ‘And so are you, Chica. You are also deserving of meeting someone good. Maybe you should try the online dating?’

  ‘Great idea!’ Dylan nods enthusiastically in agreement. ‘And we can vet them for you.’

  ‘OK, you two, calm it,’ I instruct them. ‘Just because it’s all worked out for you, doesn’t mean you need to push it my way.’

  Chapter 29

  6 weeks later

  ‘Guys, wait.’ I suddenly falter in my stride.

  ‘What’s up, Squirt?’ Dylan stops and looks at me with concern.

  ‘I… err… I’m not sure about this after all. Maybe it’s not such a good idea.’

  ‘Hey, you’re fine,’ Dylan soothes me. ‘You’re already here on the estate. You’ve made it this far. Just a few more steps, and you’re gonna be welcomed by people who have been dying to see you for years.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got the fairy tale all worked out in your head.’ I raise my eyebrows at him sceptically, feeling my pulse quicken. ‘But in mine, the story goes like this: Oh, there’s that snobby cow who thought she was above us all and has been pretending we don’t exist for the last eight years.’

  ‘Chica, no!’ Reyes approaches me and takes me by the wrists. ‘They are not thinking this. You let your mind drive you to crazy. Dylan is telling me these people are all friendly.’

  ‘If that’s the case, then where’s your big fat sparkler gone?’ I eye Reyes’s ring finger suspiciously.

  ‘Reyes isn’t wearing it out of respect for me,’ Dylan jumps in. ‘Nothing more than that. Quit looking for problems that aren’t there.’

  ‘Right.’ I feel my insides tighten. ‘OK… then just give me a minute.’

  As Dylan and Reyes obediently move away to give me some space, I take some deep breaths to calm my rising anxiety. The entrance to the Broken Arms is just as I remember it: in desperate need of repainting, the same sludge brown colour theme and dingy signage I remember from years ago. It’s like a time warp. I notice that one of the windowpanes in the door is broken, and has just been taped over. I wonder which of the locals put their fist through it, and for what reason. It really couldn’t be a less welcoming place if it tried. Even the draping of purple Christmas tinsel and the festive Christmas lights framing the entranceway do little to freshen its appeal.

  ‘This is Broken Arms?’ I hear Reyes ask Dylan quizzically from behind me. ‘This sign, it say Ridgemore Arms.’

  ‘It gained the nickname, Broken Arms, because of the number of fights that used to break out there.’ Dylan replies in a low voice. ‘It’s not like that anymore though, don’t worry.’

  Tuning them out, I continue to breathe deeply, inhaling the familiar smell from the nearby industrial bakery, memories rapidly flood my mind; some with a grim fondness. Rolling old tyres in the dusty, uneven car park as child: seeing how far they would go, and who could make them go the fastest. And as a teenager, whipping Dylan’s and most of t
he regulars’ backsides at pool; something they could never accept from a girl, driving them to re-challenge me over and over – though with little success.

  But mostly the memories are painful. A glass ominously smashing against the wall as my dad lost it with one of the locals yet again. Being dragged home, a vice-like grip on my arm leaving me with painful bruises that I ashamedly hid from my teachers and friends. Seeing the empty, soulless look in my mum’s eyes after years of drinking to escape the physical and emotional abuse.

  My brain hurts from trying to fight against the tidal wave of haunting, sinister flashbacks; my eyes sting and my throat aches from holding in the emotion. Voices circle like sharks in my mind.

  ‘Where the hell have you been, you nasty little waste of space. Put the pool cue down and get your arse home – now.’

  ‘Too good for this family, eh? I’ve got news for you, darlin’. You’ll no’ fit in anywhere outside this place, so don’t bother yer backside tryin’.’

  ‘Say that one more time. Go on, I dare you…’

  It’s almost too much. I’m dizzy with fear just at the thought of who’s beyond that door. Just as I’m on the brink of calling this off altogether, another voice creeps into my head.

  ‘My only true barrier is myself.’

  My mind suddenly switches to that moment of self-liberation on my balcony months before.

  ‘My only true barrier is myself.’

  How positive and free I felt. Like I could do anything. But I couldn’t because I still carried such a weight: a sack of shame that I lugged everywhere, that made me less of a person than everyone else.

  ‘Do not ever carry the shame of anything you had no influence or control over.’

  As Graham’s words pop into my mind, it’s as if a switch has flicked. What am I doing? I wasn’t going to let this rule me anymore. No apologies, or feeling inferior. I’m definitely not a wannabe snob either. I’m just me. Plain. A bit bashed and bruised. But strong and determined. I have nothing to be ashamed of, or to apologise for. I’m going in.

  Without even a word to nearby Dylan and Reyes, I take a final deep, solid breath and march through the doors of the Broken Arms.