‘I’m not sure,’ she finally said. ‘I think I just really want to have sex.’
Annalise laughed. ‘Say that a little louder and you can probably walk out of here with someone in the next thirty seconds.’
Poppy’s face warmed. They were packed in pretty tight, but there was so much noise she hadn’t been worrying about whether or not anyone could overhear their conversation. She lowered her voice. ‘I’m not ready this minute! We need to have a few drinks first.’
‘Stop stressing, I was only kidding. No one’s listening.’
Their first drinks were placed in front of them and they picked them up. ‘Cheers,’ said Annalise, clinking her glass against Poppy’s. ‘Here’s to getting you laid, and FYI, we’re downing this in one, got it?’
An hour later they were several rounds in and Poppy was starting to feel wobbly on her stool. Keeping up with Annalise was challenging. Annalise had arranged for the bartender to keep the drinks coming and every time Poppy emptied a glass, a new full one would be in front of her within seconds.
Annalise elbowed her, causing her to almost over-balance and she had to grab the bar to right herself. ‘Hey, check out the guy behind you and to the left, he’s not bad.’
Poppy turned carefully, wobbled some more and attempted the subtle once-over. But she had no idea where she was supposed to be looking. ‘Beard or no beard?’ she whispered out the side of her mouth.
‘You can’t seriously think I was talking about either of those two with the open-neck shirts and their chest hair showing? No, further left, dark hair.’
Poppy readjusted and found him. She spun back too quickly and the room took a second to catch up with her. ‘No way,’ she said, ‘not my type.’
‘Really? I think he’s cute.’
‘Then why don’t you go for it?’
Annalise drummed her fingers on the bar. She looked like she was weighing it up. Finally, she said, ‘Yeah, I might, later. But this is all about you, remember?’
‘So things are still only casual with you and Lawrence?’
‘Yep. I don’t do anything apart from casual.’
‘What, like never? What’s been your longest past relationship?’
‘Umm,’ said Annalise, looking up to the ceiling. ‘I’m not sure exactly . . . I’d have to work it out. Hey, let’s throw a post up on NOP telling the girls we’re out on the pull. We can ask them for their best pick-up lines.’
She’d whipped her phone out of her bag and had started typing before Poppy could protest. She wasn’t sure she wanted almost four hundred women becoming invested in her love life. Or sex life as was more accurate. But once Annalise had her mind set on doing something, it was unlikely anyone could stop her. Besides, Poppy was too inebriated to argue.
While she waited she waved at the bartender to get his attention. ‘Two more?’ she mouthed at him, pointing down at their glasses. He gave her a thumbs-up. She knew it was probably time to start substituting the odd round of water for alcohol, but tonight wasn’t really the night for making sensible choices.
‘There. Done,’ said Annalise a moment later. ‘I’ll check back in a few minutes and see if anyone has any great ideas.’
‘Another round is on its way. I’m going to the bathroom to see if I can dab a bit of soap under my arms and somehow fix my hair before you start throwing me at random men.’
Poppy stood up and started to head for the ladies. Annalise called loudly after her, ‘You know that’s called a whore’s bath, right?’
Poppy swung around and put her finger to her lips, ‘Ssshhh, woman!’
She saw Annalise chuckling happily to herself as she accepted their drinks from the bartender.
In the ladies, Poppy leaned against the basin and slow-blinked at the mirror. The bright fluorescent lights were unforgiving and her stomach began to churn. She splashed water on her face and did her best to smooth down her hair, which had frizzed up quite a bit after the soccer game in the rain.
As she focused in on her hazy reflection, she wondered if she really was up for meeting someone tonight. Maybe she’d been too brash when she’d told Annalise she was ready. Maybe she needed to wait a little longer, or at least try again when she was in nicer clothes with her hair done and feeling more confident. But then again, she had spotted a nice-looking suit sitting across the bar from them a few minutes earlier. And he had been glancing their way. Maybe she should bite the bullet. Just walk over there and at least talk to him. What did she have to lose?
Her dignity.
Her self-esteem.
Her good mood if he shot her down.
Jesus, she needed to pull it together.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out to see a notification from Annalise’s post. There was an unread private message on the NOP admin account showing as well. She read through the comments first.
Viv – Good luck picking up tonight! I hope you meet someone bangin. (Pun intended.)
Sophie – Wracking my brain to come up with a good pick-up line for you to try. All I can think of is the totally cheesy ones, like ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’ Or ‘Is that a mirror in your pocket? Cause I can see myself in your pants!’ My best advice to you is just be yourself and have fun!
Kellie – OMG, I want to be out at a bar instead of sitting in bed next to my fast-asleep husband. You go girl, just make sure you update us so we can all live vicariously through you. God I miss the days of being single. P.S. FYI, I do actually love my husband! I just miss the fun of the chase!
Jess – @Kellie, You can actually still have all the fun of the chase even if you’re married – there’s heaps of ways to spice things up: role play, bondage, bringing in a third party if you’re that way inclined. My husband and I will even go to a random bar and pretend we’re meeting for the first time. Feel free to PM me if you want some ideas.
Annalise – @Jess, FFS woman, stop hijacking posts to discuss your sex life!!
Nicole – When I met my partner I walked right up to him and said, I’d like to buy you a drink. Guys like it when a girl is confident. Well, he did anyway. Give that a try.
Carla – You two are out meeting guys? EXCITING! Which bar are you at, maybe I could come join you?
Poppy briefly thought about letting Carla know the name of the pub, but reconsidered. She had enough competition with the red-headed pocket-rocket by her side, she didn’t need supermodel, shampoo-commercial-worthy Carla distracting any potential dates as well.
She remembered the private message then and went to check it but saw through blurred vision that there was nothing there. Where did it go? Had she imagined it? She jabbed at the screen, going out of Messages and back in again. Nothing new there. Weird.
Back out in the pub, she headed for Annalise but stopped short. That suit she’d been checking out was now sitting next to her and the two of them were chatting away. Goddamnit! Poppy swore in drunken frustration. Didn’t Annalise have enough options? Why did she have to make a move on the man Poppy was hoping to make a play for? There was no way she could compete with sexy, petite Annalise.
‘Ah well,’ Poppy mumbled to herself. She’d better back off and let Annalise do her thing. She looked around for somewhere else to sit, but Annalise glanced up and caught her eye. She waved her over and Poppy shuffled moodily towards the two them.
‘Hey,’ she said when she reached them. ‘So I’m thinking I might just take off.’
‘Fuck off,’ said Annalise. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
Poppy glared back at her. ‘Umm, I’m pretty sure you just told me to fuck off. So I think I am going somewhere.’
‘No, not fuck off home. I mean sit the fuck down, woman. Will’s been waiting to meet you.’
Poppy looked at the suit who suddenly had a name attached. Will? He seemed like more of an Aaron or an Adam to her. She wasn’t sure why. He smiled back at Poppy and reached a hand out, which she accepted and shook.
‘Nice to meet you, Poppy.’
‘Your friend has given me the all clear to shout you a drink. Happy with another gin?’
‘Oh,’ Poppy said, ‘no, no, you don’t have to buy me a drink just cause Annalise is bullying you.’
‘You misunderstand,’ he replied. ‘I came over to ask her what you drink. A bit of a wuss move I know – waiting until you walked away so I could check with her first – but I like to play it safe.’
‘Oh,’ Poppy said. ‘In that case, I’ll take one. Thanks.’
‘So, now that I’ve done the introductions, I’m off,’ said Annalise.
Poppy shot a quick glance at her, tried to convey everything she wanted to say with just one look: No you don’t! You can’t leave me. It’s too soon, I’m not ready, I don’t remember how to do this, I don’t know what we’re going to talk about.
But Annalise just grinned and shook her head before leaning in and whispering, ‘You’ll be fine, just go with it.’
‘But . . . but we were going to split a cab home, weren’t we?’ Poppy asked.
‘Not anymore.’ She waggled her fingers at Poppy, winked at Will, and left.
Will turned his attention to Poppy. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’m guessing you haven’t done this kind of thing in a while, right?’
‘How did you know?’ Poppy asked, instantly disappointed.
‘Oh, sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean it as a put-down, it’s just that . . .’ he paused and reached towards her left hand, which was curled around her glass. He touched her ring finger lightly. ‘There used to be a wedding band right about here, didn’t there?’
Poppy stared down at her hand. There was no longer a white mark from where the ring used to be. She’d pulled it off that first day when she’d sat sobbing in her car and shoved it her glove box where it had stayed ever since.
‘How’d you know?’
He cocked his head to the side. ‘Well, I could say I have a sixth sense about these kinds of things and pretend it’s because I’m connected to my inner emotions or whatever. Or I could just own up to the truth. Your friend gave me a heads-up.’
‘Oh, God. What else did she tell you?’
‘Only that you’d been hurt, and that I’d better not hurt you too, or she’d go all bunny-boiler on me.’
Poppy laughed. ‘Typical Annalise.’
‘She seems like a good friend, really cares about you.’
A plate of wedges was placed on the bar in front of them and Poppy looked up in confusion. ‘We didn’t order these.’
‘Some red-headed chick ordered them for you,’ said the staff member. ‘She also told me to remind you to have some water and uh . . . she asked me to give you this.’ He smirked as he reached into his pocket and passed across a square foil package. ‘She said better safe than sorry, and then she said a whole bunch of super-explicit stuff, which I’m not getting paid enough to repeat to you. Just trust me when I say she wants you to have a fun night.’
‘Oh. My. God.’ Poppy leaned over until her forehead was touching the bar. ‘I am mortified.’ She straightened up and locked eyes with Will. The corner of his mouth twitched and next thing the two of them were falling about laughing and Will had to catch her arm to stop her from tumbling off her stool.
When they’d eventually stopped laughing, the ice was well and truly broken. Poppy hid the condom in her pocket and they shared the wedges and chatted some more – nothing quite as deep as the opening of their conversation, mostly they just asked one another about where they both worked, where they lived, hobbies and families. Eventually the food was finished and after switching to water, Poppy had sobered up a little. She still felt tipsy and giggly, but the room had stopped spinning. It seemed like they were winding things up. The question was, Poppy thought, would they be leaving alone or together? Her radar on these kinds of things was totally off. She couldn’t tell whether he was truly interested or not.
‘Just going to the men’s room,’ Will said. ‘Won’t be long, so don’t disappear, okay?’
Poppy nodded.
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, ‘Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we should let your friend down, should we?’
Poppy felt a tingle shiver its way through her body.
Will walked away without waiting for an answer and Poppy was left trying to calm the butterflies within.
She didn’t look up at first when a different guy sat on the stool next to her. She figured he was just there to order a drink, but then he started speaking to her.
‘Excuse me, love, have you got a second?’
Poppy turned towards him and took in his appearance. Usually she’d take offence to a stranger calling her ‘love’ – if someone did that to Annalise, she’d probably deck him – but there was something about the way he said it that didn’t bother Poppy. He had a sort of gentle, country lilt to his voice that made it seem more innocent. More old-fashioned charm than sexist. He was clearly another soccer player cutting loose post-match. His hair was damp, either from the rain or from sweat, and he was wearing the same navy-blue jersey with a red-and-white stripe down one side that represented Poppy’s club. Although to be honest, Poppy thought he was built more like a rugby player than a soccer player.
‘Only a quick one,’ she replied, ‘I’m about to head off. You guys have a win tonight?’ she added.
‘Yeah, 3–nil.’
Despite not having any personal connection to him or his team, Poppy felt a twinge of pride, he was part of the same club after all.
‘But listen,’ he continued, ‘I was grabbing a beer before when your friend was talking to that suit I think you’re about to leave with.’
‘Mmm,’ Poppy said, waiting to hear where this was going. She also noted that it wasn’t a country lilt she’d heard in his voice after all, it was a mild Irish accent.
‘This might not be real nice to hear, but that bloke you’re with, he’s a real player. I’ve seen him go home with a different woman every week I’ve been here after my games. And your friend sort of sold you out.’
‘What do you mean she sold me out?’
‘I mean she tipped him off that you’d be an easy score for him.’
He hesitated, screwing up his face like he was getting ready for Poppy to slap him or something. But Poppy stayed still and quiet. She was feeling a slight sting that Annalise had described her as an ‘easy score’. But then again, wasn’t it the truth? Annalise knew full well what Poppy was after tonight, so all she’d done was try to help her along.
Giggly, tipsy Poppy was gone. She squared her shoulders and her voice was crisp as she responded. ‘Right. And you feel the need to tell me this because . . . ?’
‘Because . . . I don’t know. I just thought you might appreciate the warning.’
‘You warn every woman he takes home?’
‘No. You’re the first.’
‘How did I get so lucky?’
‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you seemed more . . .’
‘More what?’
‘More vulnerable than the others.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Fuck, I don’t know. You just don’t look like his normal type.’
‘Not pretty enough?’
‘God, no! That’s not what I meant at all.’
‘Mate, you don’t even know me. So please don’t stand there patronising me.’
‘Okay, fine,’ he said holding his hands up in defeat. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said a word, but it just didn’t seem right to me. That friend of yours, I don’t know how well you know her, but in my opinion I don’t think she was doing you justice.’ He stood up from his stool to leave. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘have a good one.’ And he headed back to a table with a bunch of other players.
Poppy watched him go, feeling a mix of humiliation, anger and irritation as she imagined him and the rest of his team all sharing a good laugh at her expense. All at once, she was reminded of an altercation with Karleen when they’d still been in primary school together. She’d found a love letter in her school bag.
Dear Poppy,
I think you’re really, really pretty.
I like you. I love you.
Will you be my girlfriend?
From B
At the time, she’d had a crush on a boy called Ben. She’d shown the note to Karleen and they’d both squealed with delight. They’d discussed at length how Poppy should respond and whether or not B definitely meant Ben.
But two weeks later, she’d found out the truth. The note hadn’t come from Ben. It hadn’t come from any of the boys in her class whose name started with B. It had been written by Karleen. Much like Annalise, Karleen’s intentions were pure. She’d wanted to make Poppy happy. She just hadn’t thought it through. Ten-year-olds rarely do.
But they weren’t ten-year-old girls anymore, they were grown women. And was promising some strange bloke an easy lay taking the role of wingman way too far?
All right, so Irish football dude was correct – this wasn’t right, it was weird and creepy.
Meanwhile, Will was making his way back through the pub towards her. He reached her side, placed one elbow on the bar and leaned in close. The smell of bourbon was strong on his breath as he spoke. ‘Well, I’m happy to call it a night and head home.’ He paused, leaned closer still, and added, ‘But I’m hoping you might join me?’
Poppy pulled back, tipped her head to the side and stared at him, weighing him up. Was she even that attracted to him? She had been before. When she’d first spotted him across the bar she’d thought he had a cute smile. That he looked sexy in his suit with his wavy Hugh Grant hairstyle. Now he looked smug. His suit was pretentious, particularly in a pub full of sportspeople. His smile was more of a leer. If only she hadn’t started to sober up.
‘Why do you want to take me home?’ Poppy asked.
‘Because I think we’ll have a fun night together,’ he said.
Those Other Women Page 7
