“I see,” John replied, doubtfully, as the place was empty except for the two of them. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.
“Definitely, vodka and coke please, with lots of ice,” Rachel said enthusiastically, as John made his way towards the bar to order their drinks. She sincerely hoped it would help to reduce her body temperature.
She really didn't know what was wrong with her. She'd given herself plenty of time to get ready for her date. She'd even gotten a taxi from her house into town. She'd actually arrived early. It was the walk around the shopping centre that had made her warm. She was a fast walker, wherever she went, she always had to walk fast. She'd met John just outside the restaurant, but the minute they'd sat down she'd started sweating profusely.
John handed her her drink. It was a double vodka and coke.
“Thank you,” she smiled gratefully up at him and downed her drink in a few gulps.
She considered wiping an ice cube around her face, but thought that might be a step too far. “You're welcome,” John said, looking concerned.
“I'm not an alcoholic, honestly,” Rachel insisted, “I'm so hot and so thirsty.”
“Would you like another?” John asked.
“I'll get these, my round,” Rachel made her way towards the bar and seized the opportunity to dab a few beads of sweat from her forehead with a tissue again.
She plonked herself back into her seat and sipped her second drink more slowly, whilst fanning herself with the menu. She was desperately fighting the urge to suck on the ice cubes; they looked so cold and inviting.
“Are you sure you're OK?” John seemed worried now.
“I'm fine, just hot, I'll have cooled down in a minute,” she replied, continuing to fan her damp face.
They spent the next half an hour chatting and getting to know each other. Rachel's body temperature was finally back to normal. John seemed like a decent guy. He worked as a project manager and had recently purchased a new apartment which he was very excited about.
He had a five year old son from a previous relationship, who lived with his mother and who John had at the weekends. Rachel liked children, but she had forgotten that some of her dates may have children and that wasn't an ideal situation for her. She wanted to be a mother some day, but not yet. She liked John and had already hoped that he would ask her out on another date, that's if he didn't think she was a total mentalist after her performance earlier in the evening. He seemed to like her; she hoped he wasn't just being polite.
The rest of their date went well. The meal was delicious and the ambience was perfect for a date, with soft lighting and a very attentive waiter. They'd already shared two bottles of wine with dinner, and were the last people to leave the restaurant. All good signs, Rachel thought happily. John was the perfect gentleman. He paid for dinner, despite Rachel's offer to pay her share and then he walked her to her taxi home.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek goodnight and thanked her for a lovely evening, saying that he hoped to see her again soon. Rachel was on cloud nine all the way home in the taxi. She couldn't wait to see John again.
****
“Why hasn't he called or even texted me?” Rachel wailed to Liz and Jen. “It's been three days since our date and I haven't heard a word from John. Should I call him?”
“Absolutely, categorically no way should you contact him!” Liz advised. “You have to play it cool. If you start calling him now he'll think you're some sort of a desperado.”
“I am a desperado at this stage,” Rachel retorted. “It's been six months since I broke up with Tony and I haven't had any success whatsoever on the dating front.”
“Six months is not a long time,” Jen soothed.
“Anyway, I didn't think you were too bothered if you met someone or not, for a while.”
“Well, I didn't think I was bothered either, but it turns out I actually am bothered,” Rachel replied curtly. “Why is it that the guys you don't want to call, call all the time, and the guys you do want to call back, never do?”
“If I knew the answer to that question, I think I'd be a very rich woman,” Liz said.
“OK, let me ask you this? Did you have a good time with John?” Liz asked.
“I had a lovely time with him, after my initial literal melt down, the date went very well, or so I thought. We were talking the whole time, and our conversation seemed almost effortless. He was so polite and easygoing. I thought he liked me, but obviously he doesn't.”
“Look, Rach, you've got to take the dating scene as practice for when Mr. Right comes along. Enjoy the experience but try your best not to get too carried away with it all.”
“Easier said than done,” Rachel muttered.
“We're in the same boat as you,” Liz said.
“Speak for yourself,” Jen grinned.
“What?!” Liz and Rachel exclaimed. “Who have you found and why haven't you mentioned him before now?” Rachel asked. “Here's me rambling on about my love-life, or lack thereof, and you've gone and found someone.”
“Tell us everything,” Liz settled down for a long chat.
“Well, his name is Victor Cotter,” Jen began.
“Victor!” Liz sniggered, “what sort of a dorky name is Victor?”
“He might have a dorky name but he is the complete opposite of dorky, thank you very much,” Jen replied snippily.
“Ooh, really now,” Rachel teased, “do tell.”
“Well, he's six foot four inches tall, with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. He's a photographer and we met when he was doing some commercial photos at work.
“Wow, sounds nice,” Liz said.
“He is nice, very nice actually,” Jen smiled dreamily to herself.
“You always meet the nice guys,” Rachel moaned.
“I do not!” Jen exclaimed. I've been through my fair share of frogs. It's about time I met a prince.”
“Sorry, Jen, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Well, Rach, to be quite honest with you, you've barely been on the dating scene two minutes by comparison to the rest of us. You were lucky enough to meet Tony at a very young age, and while the rest of us were suffering heartbreak and teenage love angst you were being worshipped and loved by a decent man. It's about time you had a bit of heartbreak. Welcome to the club,” and with that she gathered up her coat and bag and stormed off.
Rachel and Liz were left looking in stunned silence at each other.
“Where did that come from?” Rachel asked in bewilderment.
“I dunno, quite an outburst, wasn't it?” Liz replied.
“Am I being really annoying constantly moaning about my love life?” Rachel said.
“I'd say annoying is too harsh a word to use, but you are quite obsessed with it at the moment. You don't really talk about much else,” Liz said carefully.
“I didn't realise,” Rachel said, “sometimes I hear myself talking and it does sound like I'm going on a bit. You should have told me to put a sock in it sooner.”
“Ah, don't worry about it,” Liz said. “You know what Jen's like, she blows up and then it's all forgotten soon after.”
“I hope I haven't upset her,” Rachel worried.
Later that evening Rachel decided to drive to Jen's house. She lived in a modern housing estate, aimed at young professionals, called “Sky View Towers.” Jen's was the last house in the row, surrounded by mature trees with a large communal garden just in front. She parked her car in the driveway and knocked tentatively on the front door. Jen opened the door and looked surprised to see her friend.
“Peace offering,” Rachel handed her friend a big brown paper bag of fish and chips from the local chipper.
“Come in, come in,” Jen swung the door wide open to let Rachel inside.
“Look, Rach, I'm sorry for my outburst earlier, I dunno what came over me, I'm feeling a bit stressed out from work and I'm afraid I took it out on you.”
“It's OK, don't worry about it,” Rachel said, as she
put the food on two plates for each of them. “I know I've been a bit self-absorbed lately, I haven't exactly been a very good friend.”
“It's completely understandable, Rach, this is your first proper experience of the dating scene and it can't be easy. It's just I miss our chats, and you've been in another head-space recently so I haven't been able to talk to you properly. I miss you, that's all.”
“Oh, Jen, I should be the one apologising for neglecting you and Liz too. I promised myself I wouldn't get sucked into the dating scene and would take my new found singledom as an opportunity to hang out more with you two and develop my own interests, and what do I do? I go on a one-woman mission to find a man. You know what the irony is? I actually want to be free and single. I don't want another man in my life any time soon. It's odd the way our brains keep trying to force us back into old habits. It's like I'm trying to get back into the old comfort zone I had with Tony, except with a new man. That's it, as of now, I'm off men for a good long while.”
“There's no need to be off men completely, maybe just go with the flow, focus on yourself, like you said, and see who comes into your life naturally, instead of going on a mad man-hunt,” Jen said.
“Maybe,” Rachel agreed, “anyway, enough about me, tell me more about Victor.”
Jen blushed slightly and couldn't help breaking into a big smile.
“Well, his name is Victor Cotter, but everyone calls him Vic. You should see his photographs, they're so creative. He has such an amazing eye. He does a lot of commercial photography, but his favourite is wedding photos. His photos capture the joy on everyone's faces.”
“Wow, sounds like we have our photographer sorted then if any of us is planning on getting married any time soon,” Rachel smiled at her friend.
The pink in Jen's cheeks suddenly deepened to crimson and Rachel looked curiously at her. “What's up with you, missus?” she asked, “it's not like you to be blushing. You're usually cool, calm and collected.”
Jen pulled her necklace out from inside her blouse to reveal a sparkling diamond on a platinum band. Rachel gasped.
“OH MY GOD!” was all she could say.
The two friends sat there for some time gazing at the gorgeous ring.
Finally, Rachel asked the inevitable question “are you engaged?”
“Yes, well, sort of,” Jen replied. “How can someone be sort of engaged?” Rachel asked. “We've only been going out a very short while, but Vic asked me to marry him last weekend. I said yes, but that I didn't want to wear the ring just yet.”
“That's amazing news, Jen,” Rachel hugged her tightly, “congratulations. We'll have to call Liz. She'll be thrilled for you.”
“Thanks Rach, I'm so happy to have told someone my news, you're the only person who knows. I felt embarrassed telling people because it's all happened so quickly, but I know I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“Take that stunning ring off your necklace and put it on your finger this instant,” Rachel ordered her friend. “Who cares what people think? You two love each other and that should be celebrated not hidden away.”
“You're right,” Jen agreed, removing the ring from her necklace and sliding it lovingly onto her finger, where it sparkled in the light.
“I'll bring over the hotel brochures from our luxury collection at work, and we can choose somewhere fabulous to have the wedding and the hen night of course,” Rachel enthused.
“Oh wow, that would be wonderful, Rachel!”
Soon they had Liz on the phone who screamed for a full minute when she heard the news.
“I'll bring my wedding album to your house one of these nights and we can look at all my ideas,” she offered.
“Wedding album?” Jen and Rachel asked in amusement.
“Yes, ever since I was a little girl I've had a wedding album, you know, a book full of pictures from magazines on wedding dresses, designers, flowers, hairstyles etc. Honestly, it's like a bible of wedding ideas. You'll have to have Vera Wang for your wedding dress, or have one especially designed by Emmanuelle, the designer who did Princess Diana's dress.”
“Calm down, Liz, let's not get too ahead of ourselves. Why don't we all meet up at your house this Saturday, and we'll talk all things wedding,” Rachel suggested to Jen.
“I'd really like that,” Jen smiled.
“I'll bring the champagne,” Liz yelled down the phone.
Chapter 13
“Why does Monday morning always come around so quickly?” Rachel groaned to herself as she looked out the window of the bus on her way to work.
It was a cold, rainy September morning. Everyone on the bus looked as miserable as she felt. “It's a day for the ducks.” Rachel was rudely interrupted from her dreary reverie by a rather large woman flinging herself on the seat beside her.
“Yes, it is,” Rachel said stiffly, wondering why this woman decided to plonk herself next to her when most of the bus was empty. She shifted slightly in her seat, as half the woman's butt cheek was resting on Rachel's leg.
“Off to work, love, are you?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” Rachel replied.
“Me too,” the woman continued, and gave Rachel a full account of how she'd spent her weekend in Galway, minding her grandchildren. She zoned out most of the conversation, just making a few “mmm” and “oh really” responses. She was not in the mood for a chat with anyone this morning, let alone a random stranger. The woman's overpowering perfume was starting to make Rachel feel slightly nauseous and she was glad when she saw the bus approaching her stop.
“Excuse me,” Rachel said, “this is my stop.”
“Oh, mine too!” the woman exclaimed, like it was the best news she'd heard in ages.
Rachel jumped off the bus, followed by her new friend.
“Which way are you walking?” the woman asked.
“I'm heading to the South Mall,” Rachel replied.
“As am I,” the woman responded, “I'll walk with you, if you don't mind. There’s nothing like a bit of company.”
“Indeed,” Rachel said shortly, “nothing like it.”
The two of them headed towards the South Mall together with Rachel's companion twittering on.
“This is me,” Rachel said as she turned towards her office.
“What a coincidence, I'm starting a new job here today,” the woman beamed.
She looked like all her Christmases had come at once.
“I have to report to some woman called Rachel Jenkins.”
“What?!” Rachel almost shrieked. “I'm Rachel Jenkins.”
“Nancy Deloitte, pleased to meet you,” the woman smiled up at her, holding out her hand. “Likewise, I'm sure,” Rachel said, shaking Nancy's hand firmly. “You must be the new member of my team.”
“So it would seem,” Nancy replied pleasantly.
“You speak fluent French then?” Rachel asked as they made their way in the lift up to the fourth floor where the call centre was located.
“I sure do,” Nancy said, “fluent in Italian and German too. My father was Italian, God rest his soul and my mother is German. I lived in France for many years when I was younger.”
“I'm sure you'll be an excellent addition to our team,” Rachel said as she pushed the heavy glass doors open.
“Everybody, this is Nancy Deloitte,” Rachel introduced Nancy to the rest of the team. “Susie, would you mind letting Nancy sit with you this morning, just so she gets an idea of how our systems work?”
“Sure,” Susie jumped up from her desk and almost ran to find Nancy a chair.
Rachel made her way to her own desk and flung her bag in the drawer.
“I see you've met Nancy,” Bettina smiled fakely over her computer at Rachel.
“Yep,” Rachel replied. “When did we hire her?”
“I interviewed her about a month ago, I think you had a half-day,” Bettina responded, “didn't you get my email?”
“No, I didn't get your email, Bettina,”
Rachel said snippily, switching on her computer, “considering we work almost at the same desk, would it have killed you to tell me in person or was that just too much of an effort?”
“I emailed you in case I forgot to tell you,” Bettina defended herself.
“Oh, whatever, I need a Starbucks,” Rachel announced, grabbing her purse and making her way downstairs to the canteen where they were lucky enough to have a Starbucks coffee section on site, with a fully trained barista. She didn't bother asking Bettina if she'd like a coffee, and she didn't care if she was being rude, in fact she hoped she was being rude.
“Hi Jo,” Rachel smiled, “a large Americano please, with an extra shot.”
Jo, the Starbucks' barista, looked at her in amazement, “you do know that it already has four espresso shots.”
“Well, I feel like I need the extra shot this morning,” Rachel sighed.
“Heavy weekend?” Jo asked.
“Not really,” Rachel said, “more like a heavy morning.”
“Already?” Jo laughed. “It's only half past nine.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Rachel muttered. “This Americano will be the drug I need to get me through the day.”
Rachel made her way slowly back to her desk. She savoured the strong aroma of the coffee beans and felt herself beginning to calm down a little. She opened her emails, mostly telephone reports and lots of meeting requests. She hardly got any work done some days with all the meetings she had to attend.
Her manager, Claire Dunbar-Jones had emailed her asking for a report on telephone times versus sales conversions. “How tedious,” Rachel groaned at the thought. A tap on her shoulder made her jump, which sent her large Americano spilling all over her keyboard.
Unforgettable Embrace Page 7
