I had quite a productive day at work. Of course it was overwhelming coming back to all those messages, and so much had been happening that at first it felt like I’d been away for nine weeks rather than nine days. But once I’d got up to speed with everything, I felt so reassured. So comfortable. It was such a contrast to the feelings of doubt, paranoia, uncertainty and second-guessing that had been plaguing me when I was at home trying to get my head around this whole understanding men thing.
As I’d hoped, work was a brilliant distraction. I’d had so much to do that I barely even thought about Lorenzo every hour. But now that I’d decided to continue the progress I’d made and achieve a better work-life balance by packing up and leaving at 7 p.m., that was sure to go out the window, as I’d be at home alone with plenty of time to fill fantasising about him. In actual fact, thoughts of him began flooding through my mind the minute I stepped out of the office door.
Whilst I was off, I’d been thinking about my next move. I knew what I wanted to do. I needed to see him again. But what I hadn’t quite worked out yet was how best to go about it. Perhaps I should wait until my catch-up with Bella and Roxy on Saturday to get a second opinion?
They were both chomping at the bit to hear about my trip. I’d been teasing them all week by alluding to the fact that I had so much to tell them, but then saying it would be better to do it in person, rather than messaging on WhatsApp, which annoyed them no end. Hopefully they’d agree that the story of my mini Italian adventure was worth the wait.
Just as I was considering running my next move past them before I acted, a flash of clarity—or should that be Reasanna’s loud voice?—hit me.
Sophia, Sophia, Sophia. Why should you wait to speak to other people first before you act? When it comes to your career, you’ve always gone for what you wanted without seeking validation or approval from others, so your personal life should be no different. You know what you want. You said you wanted a dirty weekend, so what’s stopping you? Just go for it!
She’s right. If I waited to speak to Roxy and Bella, almost another week would have elapsed. Why waste time? If I liked to travel, if I wanted to experience more of life and have fun, what was there to think about? Why did I need to ask for someone else’s opinion?
Of course, I was apprehensive. Concerned that he might reject me—especially seeing as I was the one who always instigated the messages. But I couldn’t let pride stop me. Plus, if there was a more definite ‘goal’ of us meeting on a specific date, then he might be more inclined to message.
The butterflies were back…
Screw it. I needed to at least try.
As soon as I got home, I kicked off my shoes, headed straight to the living room, pulled out my phone and clicked on WhatsApp.
Me
Hi, Lorenzo. I’m planning another trip to Tuscany in a couple of weeks. Would you like to work on those lessons we spoke about…?
Done.
Now, before I started obsessing and overthinking, I’d have my shower, make dinner, and then and only then would I look at my phone, which I would put on silent and leave here buried deep under the cushions, to avoid the temptation of rushing to look at it as soon as it chimed. I was thinking positively that he would of course respond…
Ninety minutes later, the curiosity was killing me. I retrieved the phone from the sofa…
He’d replied after forty-five minutes:
Lorenzo
Mmm-mmm. Of course!
Well, that was encouraging. I launched iCal to check the dates of the next bank holiday weekend, then tabbed back to WhatsApp and began typing:
Me
I had Thursday 26th–Sunday 29th May in mind. Are you free? Not sure what days you work, so let me know…
An hour later I received a reply. Must be after 11 p.m. in Italy now.
Lorenzo
OK, baby, I will check and tell you as soon as possible
Checking sounded good. I’d rather he did that and be sure than respond with a blasé ‘yes’ without really knowing if he could or not. On the other hand, it meant I now had to wait for his response…
Aaaaargh! This went against the person I had been for so long. The old me would never dream of chasing a guy or doing this running and waiting around. But as frustrating as this whole single thing could be, at times it was also a little bit exciting. It would be good to have something to look forward to over the bank holiday weekend for a change, rather than just staying at home working.
As the saying went, no pain, no gain. So, if waiting for him to respond meant I got to achieve my objective of having that naughty weekend, then so be it.
Chapter Nineteen
‘So, madam: spill!’ said Roxy the second we sat down at the table and settled into the comfy leather seats of our favourite booth in the corner of Hush. ‘You’ve been teasing us for ages, and we need to know what you’ve been up to!’
Before we got caught up in conversation, we ordered our starters, mains and drinks, then after the waiter had left, it was time to begin the storytelling and reveal all about my Italian shenanigans.
After they’d both gushed about how much they loved my more relaxed look, I started by elaborating on the things I’d touched on during my WhatsApp messaging the weekend I’d arrived. How lovely Fran, Grace and Dan were, the cookery lessons, the fact I’d drunk out of a dirty glass and only worn minimal make-up, the villa, etc. And I showed them the pics I’d taken on my phone.
‘Oh, they all look lovely! So, that must be Fran, and that’s Grace, right?’ said Bella, pointing at each of their faces on the screen.
‘Yep,’ I replied.
They swiped through the pics of Florence whilst sipping on their G&Ts, then arrived at the shot of Erica and Lorenzo together.
‘Holy fuck! Who is that?’ screamed a clearly impressed Roxy. ‘Is that your chef?’ she said, eyes growing wider by the second. ‘You lucky cow. And who’s she? Is that his wife?’
Roxy grabbed my phone, positioned her thumb and forefinger on the screen and started sliding them outwards to blow up the image and zoom in.
‘He is mighty fine,’ she added, giving her seal of approval as she continued scrolling through the photos. ‘Are there more pictures of him? He is hot!’
‘I have to agree,’ said Bella, leaning in to take a closer look.
‘Oooh, nice one,’ added Roxy. ‘You got a picture next to him here. Wait,’ she said, looking at me suspiciously. ‘You didn’t answer my question. Was that woman his wife? And what did you say you wanted to tell us again…?’ she asked.
I tried to play it cool for a bit longer to maintain the suspense, but I couldn’t help it. I started smiling uncontrollably. Roxy put two and two together and correctly made four. I began to blush.
‘You didn’t!’ Roxy screamed again. ‘Did you screw the chef? You dirty dog! Tell us everything!’
I smiled again slyly, still remaining silent. Both Bella’s and Roxy’s mouths were quite literally on the floor, and their eyes now looked wider than a seventy-five-inch flat-screen TV.
‘Well, no, not exactly,’ I said coyly, finally breaking my silence. ‘But let’s just say we spent a very pleasurable evening together kissing passionately, touching, caressing, coming…’
‘I don’t bloody believe it!’ shouted Roxy. ‘You? Ms Uptight OCD MARGIN, frolicking with the married chef right under his wife’s nose?’
‘No!’ I protested. ‘He’s not married! She’s just his colleague. And excuse me, I’m not uptight and I don’t have OCD, thank you very much. I’m just particular with some things, that’s all.’ Of course, Roxy’s description of the old me was in fact spot-on.
Bella and Roxy both looked at each other as if to say yeah right and laughed.
‘Soph,’ said Bella as she smiled and lifted up her glass, gesturing a ‘cheers’ motion. ‘Well done, girl. Proud of you!’
‘So how did it happen?’ asked Roxy. ‘I’m pretty sure you mentioned on WhatsApp that the chef thought you were shitto
or something and that he didn’t like you. So I don’t get it,’ she said, looking confused.
‘I know!’ I said, still not quite believing it myself. ‘It’s crazy. But Erica—our host—the lady in the photo that he works with, started telling me and Fran that he’d slept with an average-looking guest and that he was a bit of a nympho. So I thought it was worth a try. Plus, I had your voices in my head, telling me I needed practice and to get myself back on the pitch, so that spurred me on to find a way to make things happen.’ I paused to take a sip of my G&T. ‘And so I propositioned him on the last night. He said he was up for it, and the next thing I know, we were rolling around on the sofa…’
I recounted the story in such a matter-of-fact way, like I was telling them a tale about popping out to M&S for a pint of milk.
They were both dumbfounded. If they didn’t pick their jaws off the floor pronto, I was worried that the waiter, who was now approaching with our starters, would crush them with his size 11s.
‘Well, say something, then!’ I said impatiently.
‘I’m speechless, Soph!’ said Roxy, still surprised. ‘I can’t bleeding believe it! Come here.’ She leant over and gave me a massive hug.
The waiter smiled as he rested the plates of tiger prawns, Korean spiced chicken and avocado salad down in front of us, then made a swift exit.
‘You did it!’ said Roxy proudly. ‘You got yourself on the pitch. How did it feel? More importantly, how did he feel?’
‘Roxy…’ I said, starting to picture his body in my mind, which gave me the tingles. ‘He felt fucking amazing!’
‘I bet!’ added Bella, leaning in to hear more of my story.
‘So how come you didn’t sleep with him?’ quizzed Roxy, mouth half-filled with chicken.
‘We were just about to, and then Grace interrupted us. It’s a miracle it even went as far as it did, as I was feeling a bit self-conscious because I hadn’t, erm, tended to my lady garden, so it was a teeny bit overgrown down there,’ I added sheepishly.
‘Ahem. Excuse me?’ said Roxy, now almost choking on a prawn. ‘Let me get this straight: Miss Prim-and-Proper Beauty PR, who preens more religiously than a Christian goes to church on a Sunday, was not groomed to perfection downstairs? I don’t know what’s harder to believe: you practically having a one-night-stand, or you having more than a single strand of hair out of place.’
I laughed as I nabbed more than my fair share of the plate of prawns.
‘I know!’ agreed Bella.
‘First you rock up to this restaurant looking all casual, then you tell us you’ve drunk from a dirty glass and have eaten not just salami but pâté too. Next, you drop a bombshell that you spent less than ten minutes on your make-up and weren’t dressed head to toe in Armani, and now this bombshell? Seriously, Sophia,’ said Roxy, running her fingers through her hair, ‘there’s only so many surprises a woman can take in one afternoon!’
‘Stop taking the piss!’ I said, laughing. ‘I don’t know what to tell you. This holiday, this man, the whole experience has kind of changed me…’
‘Understatement of the century!’ added Bella. ‘So, where are you at now? Have you messaged him since you got back?’
‘Well, I’m planning to go over there in a few weeks’ time for a dirty weekend,’ I said confidently.
‘No fucking way!’ screamed Roxy. ‘Bella? Who the hell is this woman sitting at our table? This is not our friend Sophia. She has been kidnapped and replaced with some sort of floozy impostor. I refuse to believe the words that are coming from this stranger’s mouth!’
‘Roxy’s right, Soph,’ said Bella, nodding in agreement. ‘The transformation is incredible. Well done, you! So is it all booked? What stage are you at?’
‘Well, annoyingly, I’m waiting for him to get back to me to confirm dates, which I hate as it makes me feel like I’m in limbo,’ I said as I cut a piece of chicken in half, ready to devour. ‘It’s not helped by the fact that he’s not very verbose on messages and so far I’ve led the way, always being the first one to message, which I can handle, just about, provided he’s interested. He said on Monday night that he’d let me know re: dates and I still haven’t heard back from him. That’s almost a full five days, so I think I should start to chase. I don’t like feeling like I’m being dangled on a string.’
‘Maybe give him until Monday?’ suggested Bella. ‘Then it’s a clear week? What do you reckon, Roxy?’
‘Message him now!’ shrieked Roxy. ‘Why wait? Sounds like you’re on a roll. Better to know sooner or later if he’s interested or if it was just a little one-off fumble.’
‘You’re right. It’s a little daunting, though,’ I said, covering my eyes with my hands. ‘I feel like a fish out of water, and I’m trying to address my fear of rejection. I keep thinking, what if he says no? Or he does say yes, and then I end up going and he doesn’t show up or something? I know I should think positively, but he hasn’t really done anything to instil confidence in me and make me feel like he’s definitely interested.’
‘That’s a lot of ifs. If this or that happens, then you just deal with it,’ advised Bella sagely. ‘There’s so many wonderful places to visit in Italy, so you’d just go and explore. See the places you don’t get to see when you go there for work. Worst comes to the worst, it wouldn’t have to be the end of the world. I say give it a try, but be pragmatic at the same time. Don’t go with any big expectations of this being the love affair of the century. Just enjoy the ride.’
‘Yeah, quite literally!’ added Roxy, sniggering like a teenager. ‘I cannot believe you had that hot totty in front of you and didn’t sample the goods properly, as I would not have let that slip through my fingers. But for you, as someone that’s been out of the dating game for so long, I get that this is a giant step, and like Bella said, we’re so proud of you.’
‘Thanks, Rox—that means a lot,’ I said, smiling.
‘You’ve got to keep the momentum going, though, and get your arse back to Italy,’ she added firmly. ‘If you leave it too long, he’ll move on to some other guest and forget about you. So first thing in the morning, chase him up about dates and then book that ticket pronto!’ she said, letting out an excited squeal. ‘And by the way, when we get the bill later, you are not paying a penny for this meal. I feel like I’ve just been to the cinema and watched a chick flick. What a show you’ve given us this afternoon, young lady!’
Ah, bless my friends. It was great that they understood me and the steps I was taking to try and enjoy living my life much more.
Like Roxy said, though, I couldn’t wait around. I needed to find out whether lesson number 2 was still on the cards, which meant taking charge again and messaging him.
This time tomorrow, would I be preparing for a weekend of fun with Lorenzo or cursing him for not replying?
Chapter Twenty
I think deep down when I sent my message to Lorenzo on Monday asking about dates, I knew that he wouldn’t reply without me having to chase. Oh well. Just keep the objective in mind. You’re not looking for a reliable husband who will be there to bring you tea and a hot water bottle when you’ve got your period. You’re looking to hook up with a guy who is so hot, he would make the gorgeous Channing Tatum look like Quasimodo, for a weekend of no-strings-attached sex. Thus, lengthy WhatsApp chats and punctual messages weren’t really part of the deal.
Relax. This is all probably normal in the dating game.
Right. Time to send that message. It’s 10.15 a.m. here, so 11.15 a.m. there. Perfectly fine.
I sat up in bed, plumped up my pillow and began typing a WhatsApp message:
Me
Hello, handsome. Any news on those dates? As it’s only two weeks away, the flights are getting booked up, so I need to be quick. Can you let me know today? Grazie mille xxx
There. I kept it light, squeezed in a compliment (they say flattery gets you everywhere), and showcased my Italian vocab skills. How could he resist?
I was still guilty of chec
king to see when he was last online, whether he’d read the message or not and how many hours had elapsed since I’d sent it. I couldn’t seem to help myself.
Three hours and fifteen minutes later (not that I was counting…), he replied:
Lorenzo
I can be with you on the 28 and 29, but unfortunately I have to work until the 27.
Couldn’t argue with that. Two nights of passion had always been my objective. And I’d rather him let me know that he was working on certain days now so I could book the flights accordingly. I typed out my reply:
Me
Great! I’ll let you know once I’ve booked my tickets.
A wave of excitement flashed through me once again, just like on the last night at the villa, when he’d first confirmed he was up for helping me. I grabbed my iPad, typed in the dates and checked for the available flights to Pisa.
The flights were triple the cost I’d paid before. Understandable, I supposed, seeing as it was a bank holiday. Maybe I should shop around and do a bit more research?
Here comes Reasanna…
FFS, Sophia. Are you really doing this shit again? Are you going to spend hours going through all your cost analysis bollocks like the old you, or are you going to take a leap of faith and go for it? You’re already on the flights/hotel price comparison site you and the team use for all your work bookings, so you know it’s good. And it’s not like you don’t have the money! You should just bloody well book it. Seriously, woman!
So pushy…but she was right.
I checked the dates again to be sure, selected the times and then clicked confirm quickly. Even a seasoned PR like me couldn’t resist all the threats of there’s only one seat left at this price and five gazillion people have booked onto this flight in the last five minutes that flashed up on the booking page.
The Middle-Aged Virgin_A Chick Lit, Romantic Comedy Novel_Newly Single And Seeking Spine-Tingles... Page 16
