She thinks I don’t know. I do, but I’m choosing to stay quiet until she comes to me. By all accounts, he’s married with a daughter. The thing I struggle to understand is how someone who has always had such high morals can be stupid enough to have an affair with a married man? Okay, it might be exciting for a while, but I know Izzy, and I know she must be racked with guilt over this. So why is she doing it? My worry grows daily, and all I can do is keep a close eye on her, because I’m sensing from the sad sighs here and there that all isn’t quite so rosy.
Besides, I appear to have a problem of my own that goes by the name of Wayne. It turns out the local shopkeeper is the lead singer of a band by night. I took him up on his offer of catching my breath, but I didn’t realise he meant from watching him rock out on the stage at a bar in town. I can’t lie and say I don’t have a major crush on him, because I do, and when I’m around him, all I want to do is flirt with his charm and tease his tamed side. His girlfriend goes by the name of Poppy – a tall, leggy blonde who’s stunningly beautiful and irritatingly nice. Too nice sometimes, to the point I just want to scrag at her perfectly tousled curls. I get the impression he likes me, but honestly, I don’t blame him for being with her. She’s all the things I’m not and deep down; I want him to be happy, just like I want Izzy to be happy.
He’s constantly telling me I need to quit the one-night stands and find something more permanent. If only it was that easy. I struggle to talk about my feelings, I struggle to love and I struggle to accept love. When you’ve been hurt the way I have, a million and one doubts float through your mind in every aspect of life. I question every move I make. That’s why with men, I shut down. If I don’t know them and they don’t know me, then they can’t hurt me. Wayne is the only one who I’ve found myself wanting that little bit more with and even then, he’s unattainable.
So today I had an idea.
I need to learn to love again. I need some responsibility in my life to build up my confidence. What I need is a pet, or more specifically a dog. Everyone loves a puppy, right?
“Purrrrrlease, Mav?” I beg and bat my pretty eyelashes.
“No. No way are we getting a dog. You can barely wipe your arse, Goose, let alone clean up after a dog.”
“But I swear I will. This is just what I need. Think about it…” I slide onto the chair she’s sat on in front on the laptop and bump her off a little. “It’s about time I got some responsibility in my life. I’m thirty years old. If I can’t look after a pet then what good am I?”
“You killed the fish we had by feeding them burnt pizza,” she says flatly, turning to me and raising her brows as if that’s the end of the argument already.
“That was a simple mistake. How was I supposed to know they only ate fish food?” I shrug.
Her shoulder bumps mine hard and knocks me back off the chair. “Exactly. You don’t have a clue. The answer is no. You’ll get bored and I’ll be the one left looking after it.”
“Mav-”
“No,” she cuts me off and starts to tap at the keys.
“But…”
“Fuck off!” she snaps through a smile as she continues to write.
Just then the door to her bedroom flies open, and in bounds a fourteen-week-old Corgi. It’s a male with tanned fur and a cute pink tongue, which flaps out of his mouth when he runs. He jumps into my lap where I’m sat on the floor and starts to lick my face, making me giggle.
I see her head slowly turn from the screen to glare down on the pair of us. “What the hell is that?”
“A dog.” I cringe.
“No shit, Sherlock. What is it doing in our house? Goose, you better not have got a dog without me agreeing.”
I cup my hands under the front of his legs and turn him around to face her. I take one of his paws and start making little movements in the air, coupled with a soft voice and puppy dog eyes. “N’aww, but Auntie Izzy, how can you resist this cutie-wutie face?”
“You’ve lost the plot.”
“Go show Auntie Izzy some loving, TJ.” I kiss his furry cheek and place him back down on the floor.
“Oh, no, no, no. Emotional blackmail will not work.”
Until he jumps up and paws at her leg.
“See, he likes you.”
I watch her watching him, and I can see the sparkle in her eyes. She likes him; she just doesn’t want to admit it. As she bends down to pick him up, I don’t miss the small up turn of the corner of her lips.
“I can’t believe you got a dog,” she says, holding him up in the air in front of her. “So she called you TJ, huh?”
“Trouble Junior.”
Her head tilts to the side to look past him and straight at me. “Fitting.” Then she moves back to start talking to him. “Listen, little dude, you can stay on two conditions. One, no pissing on my carpets and two, no chewing my socks.”
“He can stay?” I ask, excitedly.
“Well, you haven’t left me much choice, have you?” She swings him around and sits him in her lap, stroking at the spot behind his ears. “But you need to listen, too, Goose. You can keep him on one condition – you stop all the one-night stands, you stop all this crap with Wayne and you seriously start to look at respecting yourself. You’re my friend and I hate to see you acting like this. I can’t watch it anymore. You deserve so much more, if you would just let someone in.”
The thing is, I know she’s right, and I’ve seen it coming for a while now. She’s just as worried about me as I am about her. Another trait of friendship is being able to see past the bullshit and knowing when the other person is tired, whether they let you know it or not. I am tired of not being able to find someone to share my future with. I’m tired of being alone and I’m even starting to feel tired of always pretending. That’s how I know something has to change.
“I’m letting TJ in.” I offer a weak smile.
She sighs heavily as she puts him back down on the floor. “I know you know what I mean, and when you’re ready to say the words, we are cashing in on that pact.”
“Touché, my friend.”
Compromise.
We all have it in us. It’s just finding the right time and balance.
*******
Two weeks is all it has taken for us to come to one. After finding Izzy upset, no thanks to the knob that is Matt Cooper, we’ve both agreed to give the blind dates a go. She didn’t even fight me when I suggested it, which makes me think she’s just as tired as I am. It’s about time we allowed ourselves to dream of a new world where we are both in loving relationships and on course for our long overdue happily ever after. We deserve it and we shouldn’t hold back from allowing ourselves more than what we have. Although, I’m not so sure who Izzy could know that she thinks would be suited to me. If anything, I’m a little intrigued as to who my blind date could be.
But I know just the person for Izzy.
Leaving her room as I hit the green button on my phone, I anxiously wait for an answer at the other end. There’s no denying there’s a physical attraction between these two. I saw it that day in Manchester. I know they both have a past, which means they might stand a chance at understanding where the other is coming from in their thoughts and feelings.
“Hello?” he answers.
“Hi, stranger. It’s me, Paris.”
“Blast from the past.”
“It sure is.”
He laughs. “Paris, what has it been now?”
“A lot of years. Far too many to remember. How are you doing, anyway?”
“Good. Business is good. And you?”
“I’m doing okay, thanks. But let’s cut to the chase. You remember saying if my friend or I needed work or an ear we could call you?”
“Yeah…” he answers cautiously.
“Well, I’m calling in your ear – well actually, your whole body – for my friend, that is.”
“Uh, I don’t understand a word you just said.” He chuckles.
“My friend, the blonde girl you couldn’t
take your eyes off…”
“Not true,” he denies a little too quickly.
“Ethan.” I laugh, “You couldn’t. Well, I’m setting her up and I was wondering if you would fancy being her blind date?”
“Her date?”
“Yeah, you know… a meal, a few drinks, the Walker charm.“
“With the blonde?” he questions eagerly, like he’s trying to make sure he has the right person in his mind. “Your blonde. I mean, the blonde friend.”
“Yes. The blonde. What do you say?”
“I…”
“Please, Ethan.”
“Sure. Why not?” he answers slowly.
“You will?” I squeal loudly with excitement that he accepted, and then I snap my hand to my mouth, quickly remembering Izzy is only up the stairs. As I peer back up, I lower my voice a little. “Nice one, Ethan. Let me work out the finer details and I’ll text them to you. You’re going to have an amazing time.”
And with that one call, I feel like Izzyrella’s fairy godmother. She will go to the ball or at least a nice swanky restaurant somewhere with a bit of jazz music and a nice atmosphere. Now all I have to worry about is who the hell I’m getting set up with.
Thirty-Eight
18th April 2013
The evening has finally arrived for me to go on my blind date, and I am excited in a way, but I’m also very nervous. I have a feeling the man who is going to turn up tonight will be nothing like my usual type. Mav has chosen him and she has given no clues as to who it could be but I know her overprotective nature won’t allow her to fix me up with someone who might treat me badly, and that’s what worries me the most. I’m not meant for a perfect prince. I have no clue what to say or do with the intellectual types. I’ve made my way through life on looks and having a laugh, sometimes at my own expense, but to feel a deeper connection, more needs to be shown than that. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to be something more.
I was hoping Izzy would be around today to help me choose an outfit, but I have to say, she’s been pretty aloof since we spoke yesterday after her date with Ethan. She found out we slept together, and I think it’s hurt her more than she cares to admit, which also tells me she might like him. I wish I could change the past, but I can’t. All I can do is try and reassure her that it was mistake. As I hop on one foot to put my red heel on, I make a promise to myself to speak to her when I get back. Straightening up, I take one last look at myself in the mirror while my hands glide down the lace of my dress. I’ve gone with black, not down to the knee but not up by the shooting goal either.
My thoughts drift to the man that’s about to turn up. What if he’s dressed completely differently and he’s in jeans while I’m in lace? Maybe I should have worn something a little less dressy?
Just as I’m about to reconsider, I hear a loud knock at the front door. My stomach does an automatic flip and sinks to the core, while even more questions start to fly around my mind in a mad frenzy.
What if he doesn’t like me?
What if we have nothing to talk about?
What if he’s unattractive?
Then I realise, this is the first proper date that I’ve ever been on. Rob and I barely left the apartment, let alone dated; Daggs didn’t do dates, and all the others since have all skipped the formalities and headed straight to fourth base. I can’t believe I’m thirty years old and pretty much heading out on my first official date. It feels like my dad should be here to inspect the boy turning up at the door to take his little princess out. But he’s not here, and that thought makes me miss him. I still miss him every day. That will never change. The only difference now is I can think of him and not feel anger or pain, just sorrow for the things we didn’t get to do together.
The door bangs again while I’m lost in thought, and TJ begins to bark loudly, like he isn’t all too sure what’s about to happen. That makes two of us.
“Okay, I’m coming. I’m coming!” I shout as I throw my signature leather jacket on and attempt my best run down the stairs. When I reach the bottom, I bend over to cup TJ’s furry face in my hand and stroke him one final time. “Now, now, little dude, you need to chill out. Mummy’s nervous enough as it is.” Fluffing the fur on top of his head, I give him a quick kiss and make my way over to the door before taking a moment to breathe.
You got this, Paris.
When I fling the door open with an enthusiastically forced smile, my eyes immediately fall to the expensive designer suit the guy is wearing. Wowzer. “Hi,” I say as cheerfully as I can, all too aware that TJ is practically sat on my shoes and making a strange, low, growling noise.
“Hey, Paris, is it?” He holds his hand out in front as if we are at a business meeting. “I’m Max… Max Colton. I-I’m your date for tonight.”
He looks just as out of sorts as I feel and the name doesn’t go unnoticed. Max Colton. She’s set me up with the hot dude she nearly killed with a chilli. Like her doing that wasn’t bad enough, she now thinks I’m an acceptable date for him. Poor guy.
I hold my hand out to shake his. “Hi. Nice to finally meet you, Max.” I sidestep from the door to allow him to walk inside the entrance. TJ is still growling and moves with me. “You fully recovered from the chilli now?” I smirk.
“Oh, yeah. That.” He cringes while doing this scratching thing on the back of his neck. “It was an accident. Izzy wasn’t to know.”
“I know.” I chuckle. “She felt sick about it for weeks, bless her.”
“Just one of those things.” He shrugs quickly, changing the subject as he places his hand in his pocket. “I brought you something as a gift… for the date,” he stutters. As I stand watching, my stomach flutters away, wondering what the hell he could have brought me that’s small enough to fit in his jacket pocket.
“Here you go.” He holds it out in front of him and the sight of it causes my mouth to fall open.
“Oh. Erm… That’s an interesting gift,” I answer quickly.
“Izzy told me how much you like them.”
“She did, did she?” I try to smile through the cringe and cautiously hold my hand out to take it from him. “Thanks. I’ll eat it later.” I swiftly move it from his fingers onto the window ledge by the door and remind myself to bollock Izzy for her crappy sense of humour when I get my hands on her.
A Creme Egg. A sodding Creme Egg. She knows full well they make me gag and have done since we were five. It feels like revenge for Ethan, which convinces me even more she wanted the date to go better than it did.
“You’re welcome,” he answers, frowning slightly before continuing. “Nice little dog you’ve got there.” Max kneels down to pet him while I watch, warily. TJ is acting weird and I'm not sure how this is going to go. All he's ever known is me and Iz.
“Thanks, he’s a Corgi.”
“I can see that.” He laughs.
“Sorry.” I wince.
As if sensing my embarrassment at the stupid comment, TJ instantly retaliates with his form of defence. He starts to pee on Max’s Prada shoes.
“Woah, buddy!” He quickly tries to stand and jump away.
“Oh my god,” I cry “TJ, No. No, no, no. Don’t do that. Get away.” I lunge forward to shoo him towards the kitchen, avoiding the now unsightly puddle on Izzy’s recently laid laminate floor. “Get in that kitchen now. Max, I’m so, so sorry. I’ll just get you some tissue.”
“It’s fine, Paris. Honestly, these things happen.” He lifts his leg awkwardly, looking down at one of his shoes, unable to hide the small curling of his lip at what he finds there.
That’s twice he’s said that now. Despite his sophisticated, almost uptight appearance, the guy seems to have a pretty laid back attitude. I don’t know why, but it’s quite endearing compared to the other arrogant arseholes I’ve been with before.
I rush back with some tissue and bend over to mop up the mess. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You should stop saying sorry so much.” He smiles.
�
�Sorry. I mean… Crap. Okay. So-” I blow out as I finish cleaning up the mess. From down here I get a better view of his shoes. They are Prada. I called it. He also has quite large feet, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself, thinking of the saying ‘you know what they say about guys with large feet...’
“There’s no need to laugh about it though.” He continues to smile.
“I wasn’t laughing at that.” I push back to my feet. “Actually, never mind. Let me just get rid of this and hopefully we can start again.” I giggle.
“Sure.”
When I make it back to the front door and we slip out, I turn to face the path from locking up and stop right in my tracks.
“Wow,” is all that comes out.
He has his hands in his trouser pockets as he saunters down towards the gate. He lifts his head coyly and cheekily grins back towards me. “You like cars?”
“I like motorbikes, but cars are cool, too. Especially Audi R8’s that are parked slap-bang in front of my house.” I step down the path and sashay towards his expensive car, which matches his expensive suit and his expensive shoes. “You will have barmy Betty next door twitching her curtains.”
“Get in and maybe we can give her something to twitch about.” Max presses the key fob and holds the door open for me.
I practically fall into the low leather seat, trying to keep my dignity and thanking God that I made the right choice in choosing this length of dress. My eyes wander around the inside and I realise I’ve never sat in something worth so much money before. The bright, neon lights on the gadgets and the silver chrome finish all add to the lavish interior. Is it wrong for me to be more aroused by the car than him right now? Being sat on top of so much horse power only fuels my thrill-seeking side and causes my fingers to twitch at wanting to drive the thing.
Paris Hemsworth's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 2) Page 25
