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

by Nina Kaye

  ‘But, what?’

  ‘Well, we haven’t actually had much serious intelligent conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I like having a laugh and all, but it’s just daft chat and flirting. Not much sharp wit. I need someone I can have proper brain-stimulating conversations with as well. I’ve no idea about his values, his political views, what he wants from life… wow… I’ve actually only just realised all this.’

  ‘See, Chica!’ Reyes claps her hands together in delight. ‘This is good game. If you do not play, you are not having this thinking.’

  ‘I guess you’re right.’ I eye her curiously. ‘Is that why you suggested we do it?’

  ‘No.’ Reyes shakes her head resolutely. ‘I am not planning this. It is just… how do you say…’

  ‘A coincidence?’ I suggest.

  ‘Yes. Gracias. That is a word I am always having trouble with remembering.’

  ‘OK, now let’s do you now.’ I make a show of thinking up the options for Reyes. ‘Your choices are… also Amir… Piotr… and… Dylan.’

  Reyes looks so serious in considering her options, I can’t help but laugh.

  ‘I am thinking,’ she says eventually. ‘That although Piotr is nice hombre and I am happy to be working with him, I must push him.’

  ‘OK. Interesting choice.’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘I thought it would have been Dylan for the chop straight off.’

  ‘Why are you thinking this?’ Reyes asks.

  ‘I just figured he might be a bit rough around the edges for you.’

  ‘Chica, no.’ She waggles her finger at me. ‘I am liking this about him. He is bad boy, yes?’

  I look at her, perplexed. Having come from the background I’m told she has, I would expect Reyes’s taste to be a little more refined. ‘I… err… I guess so. I didn’t realise that was your type.’

  ‘Every chica likes a bad boy.’ She puts on a mischievous face.

  ‘I’d better keep you two apart then,’ I joke. ‘Because he’s got a thing for you too. And I’m sure your husband wouldn’t approve.’

  Reyes puts on a face. ‘My husband, he is not—’

  She’s interrupted as a customer signals for the bill, putting a stop to our chat. I busy myself emptying the glass washer, while Reyes completes the transaction.

  ‘I have decided,’ she announces, returning. ‘I am snogging Amir and marriaging Dylan.’

  ‘You’re going to marry the bad boy?’ I’m baffled by her choice once again.

  ‘Yes. I can see clearly that Dylan is bad boy and good hombre,’ she states this as if it is obvious. ‘He is what I think you call “for keeping”?’

  ‘A keeper. Yes, that’s right.’ I smile at her. ‘Well, I guess you’re probably right. He’s certainly got a good heart.’

  Wait till I tell Dylan, I think to myself. He’ll love that little confidence boost. And he certainly needs one. I’ll just need to keep him on a tight leash to stop him sniffing around Reyes, and earning himself a black eye, or worse from her husband.

  ‘OK, one more time.’ Reyes waves to the remaining customers as they leave. ‘You have… Dylan… Piotr… and… ah, yes, Aaron.’

  ‘Oh man. That’s even tougher than the last one.’ I exhale loudly. ‘OK… Piotr’s off a cliff. I couldn’t do that to Dylan or Aaron – not after everything they’ve done for me…’

  ‘I am glad of hearing this.’

  ‘And as snogging Dylan would feel a bit like incest – he’s like my brother – I’m going to have to opt for another marriage of convenience…’

  ‘This is meaning that you snog Aaron!’ Reyes hoots with glee.

  ‘I guess it does.’ I wrinkle my nose as I contemplate this.

  ‘Aaron is good-looking hombre, no?’ Reyes regards my facial expression with confusion.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose.’ I remove the remaining glasses from the glass washer. ‘I’ve never really thought about him that way. And he’s a few years older than me. But if you lose the super-awkward personality and replace it with Josh’s charm, then why not?’

  ‘I am thinking you are right.’ Reyes starts to cash up the till. ‘But I am also thinking that any man with charm of Josh I will snog.’

  ‘That may well be true,’ I agree. ‘Which is probably all the more reason why I need to keep my wits about me in this… whatever it is. I could easily get swept away by the lust and fun, without thinking any of it through. I do like him a lot, but I need to be sure that he’s right for me.’

  ‘I think this is OK, Chica,’ Reyes reassures me. ‘For now. You can see if the rest is coming later.’

  ‘Lots of deep and meaningful chat going on here, I see.’ Aaron’s clipped tone suddenly cuts through our conversation, as I freeze in horror.

  Chapter 21

  Reyes and I share a panicked look as we realise he’s standing just feet away from us, his expression totally unreadable. Oh hell. How long has he been there? Please tell me he didn’t hear us; I’ll have completely barbecued my bridges this time.

  ‘Aaron. Hi. Didn’t see you there,’ I say, flustered. ‘We were just… err…’

  I glance desperately at Reyes, who reads my unspoken distress call and wades in to help me.

  ‘We speak about a new TV show, Mister Gardiner. It is about dating.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Aaron prompts Reyes to continue, his expression still indecipherable.

  ‘It is dating, but without clothes,’ Reyes continues. ‘The chicas and hombres go for dinner naked. You have seen this?’

  I inwardly groan, realising that whatever Aaron heard, it will not match up at all with Reyes’s account of things. She’s now added to an already excruciating situation in her attempt to divert his attention.

  ‘Is that right?’ Aaron gives nothing away as he sways in his habitual, pine-tree-like manner, moving smoothly back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet. ‘I can’t say it’s something I’ve seen.’

  I study his face, trying to figure out what he heard. Unless it was only the very tail end of our conversation, I have two things to worry about: he’ll now know about me and Josh; or worse, he’ll know that and that I said I would snog him, but preferably only if he assumed a different personality.

  ‘You should watch it, Mister Gardiner.’ Reyes appears completely unaware of her misjudgement. ‘It is very… liberation.’

  ‘You mean liberating,’ Aaron corrects her.

  ‘Yes,’ Reyes replies. ‘That is what I say.’

  I stare at Reyes, trying to send her telepathic messages to shut the hell up, but her attention is fully fixed on Aaron.

  ‘Right, well. Perhaps I should give it a watch.’ Aaron surveys us appraisingly.

  ‘Yes, you must,’ she persists. ‘You are learning things. Like how people are making different choices when they cannot see how the other person will dress.’

  Reyes smiles sweetly at Aaron, mistakenly thinking she’s rescued the situation. But the hint of sarcasm barely detectable in Aaron’s voice suggests otherwise.

  ‘It’s certainly interesting what people consider to be important,’ says Aaron. ‘For some it’s all about fun and lust.’

  Shit. He heard. He bloody well heard. Certainly, the part about me and Josh. That’s bad enough, especially him hearing it in that context, but did he hear the bit before it – about him? Please, no. I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again. My face is burning. I will him to leave and end to this excruciating conversation.

  ‘That is true, Mister Gardiner. You have good observation.’ Reyes is completely oblivious to what’s really going on.

  ‘Well. Thank you, Reyes.’ He nods at her. ‘That’s most useful. I’ll be sure to tune in. I trust all is well otherwise?’

  ‘Yes, Mister Gardiner. We are finishing very soon.’

  ‘Good. Safe journey home, both of you.’ He looks directly at me.

  ‘Thanks, Aaron.’ I force a smile, still avoiding full eye contact. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  He turns and sweeps out the door int
o the main hotel.

  ‘As Amir say: you are welcome,’ Reyes announces proudly as soon as he’s gone.

  ‘Are you being serious?’ I look at her incredulously. ‘You made the situation twenty times worse. Naked dating? Really? He obviously heard the end of our conversation, which means he knows about me and Josh. I just so hope he didn’t overhear what I said about him.’

  A short while later, I’m sitting on my couch, half-watching some late-night TV, eating some toast before bed. I’m beyond exhausted, but my mind is still wired with nervous energy, mainly from the irrational loop of worry that’s locked on repeat in my mind.

  Did Aaron hear what I said about him? It was only a bit of fun. But out of context my words would have sounded so cruel and bitchy. He’s someone I have so much respect for, to whom I owe so much. I can’t stand the thought that he could have overheard, and been hurt by my carelessness. But am I overthinking this? He can be quite cutting in his own way. Would he even care? He may have been an important person at a previous point in my life (and has unexpectedly become so again), but I’m probably not that significant in his. He’s only ever been my boss – just a really good boss, who didn’t want to see me go under and have to drop out of uni. Surely people like him deal with much worse than a bit of harmless gossiping behind closed doors.

  Amir’s words about me being oversensitive because of my hangover come floating back to me, and I realise that I need something other than crap TV to distract me. I pick up my laptop and log onto my blog site admin page, where I can see that there’s been some further comments on my recent post. And that GrahamLeeton has eventually replied and answered my question. I immediately click into his response.

  GrahamLeeton: The easy and slightly creepy response would have been ‘who would you like me to be?’ But as you were so honest before, you deserve better than that. Who am I? I’m a man (you probably guessed that bit already), a man who makes the most of life, who works hard, who cares about other people, and what’s going on in the world. Who sometimes wishes he were a superhero, so he could right all the wrongs… and I’ve just realised how boring that sounds. Can we go back to what I do? ;)

  I smile as I read his words, then type out a response.

  MissGinFizz: Definitely not boring. That’s amazing. So few of my conversations these days involve real stuff. And it matters. To care. To want to change things, but to feel so powerless to do so. Tell me more…

  Sitting back, I glance at my watch. It’s one-thirty in the morning. He’s unlikely to respond tonight. This frustrates me. I want to know more now, not tomorrow. I start to reply to the other comments I’ve received, but I’m distracted and my responses don’t flow. Eventually I realise it’s a fruitless exercise and cast aside my laptop in irritation. I may as well go to bed; hopefully my exhaustion will eventually overwhelm my unsettled mind.

  Just as I’m about to log out of my site and shut down my laptop, I receive a notification of a new comment. Filled with anticipation, I click it open. It’s him. My eyes quickly dance across his words.

  GrahamLeeton: I will. For some reason, I have an instinct that you will understand me – in a way that many others haven’t. But first, tell me who you are, MissGinFizz. It’s your turn.

  As I drink in his words, my stomach fizzes excitedly. He’s reeled me in so fast, it’s scary. I know I should be careful and have my wits about me, but I sense that this man is not a threat. However, my own instincts have let me down before – most notably at McArthur Cohen with my so-called friends there. I decide I won’t give away any personal details or hints that could betray my true identity. So, there will be no real risk. Just a bit of harmless – and inspiring, intriguing, intelligent – conversation.

  Taking time to protect my anonymity, but trying to appear suitably open and interesting, I tap out my response.

  MissGinFizz: OK… I’m a woman (touché) – a woman with dogged ambition, who only recently realised that play is just as important for success as work. Who’s realised there’s a lot more to life than money and living the high life. Who may have drunk too much last night, and who may have spent the whole day endlessly regretting it…

  I read my words back as I wait, hoping he’s not disappeared again. He hasn’t.

  GrahamLeeton: Thank you, MissGinFizz. I suspect we have a lot in common. I also wonder if you would like to take this conversation somewhere less public? And before you think I’m some crazed cyber-criminal, I’m not looking for any of your personal details. I will never ask you for them. I’d just like to chat. Do you have a chat app on your blog site? That is, if you’re not desperate to get to bed – you did mention having a hangover after all…

  As I read his reply, I don’t feel threatened or uneasy, not even for a moment. I want to chat to him. And I’m too buzzed to sleep anyway. I’ve soared past exhausted and crash-landed in a state of burning adrenaline-fueled wakefulness. I send him a reply, asking if he knows how I can add a chat app, and he immediately comes to my assistance.

  Once I have it installed on my laptop and my phone, we resume our conversation, which now flows much more easily with the enhanced functionality of instant messaging. I cast aside my phone and restart the conversation.

  MissGinFizz: So, you said you’d tell me more once I’d shared a little myself…

  GrahamLeeton: What do you want to know?

  I pause, my fingers hovering over the keys of my laptop. That’s a good question. What do I want to know? I can’t ask him where he’s from, or anything personal; that’s already been ruled out. He’s also already taken the career conversation off the table. He’s a shrewd operator! I now have little choice but to engage at a deeper level. All obvious topics of conversation have been eliminated. I look back at his last post on my blog page, trying to follow through from the original thread of conversation.

  MissGinFizz: You mentioned wanting to be a superhero, so you could right all the wrongs of the world. Which superhero would you like to be? :)

  GrahamLeeton: I’d be… Equilibriman.

  MissGinFizz: Right… don’t think I know him. I don’t really follow the world of comics and superheroes.

  GrahamLeeton: Neither do I. Just made him up. :) Can you guess what my superpower is?

  I look at his made-up superhero name and groan loudly. It’s so obvious.

  ‘Come on, Liv,’ I coach myself out loud. ‘You’re supposed to be a smart woman. You’ll need to be a lot quicker if you want to keep up with this guy.’

  I fire back a response.

  MissGinFizz: Ha, of course. You have the power to bring things back into balance. Creating a more equal society. Righting the wrongs of the world, as you say. Am I right?

  MissGinFizz: I blame my sluggishness on the hangover!

  GrahamLeeton: Spot on! At least you got there eventually, eh?! ;)

  ‘Cheeky bugger!’ I shout at the screen, but I’m smiling all over.

  GrahamLeeton: Being serious though, I detest the level of inequality in society. It pains me to see kids in gangs, dying needlessly, or not having a chance at a promising future because of the postcode they live in. Parents struggling to feed and clothe them, while the rich and famous use intravenous drips as cures for hangovers.

  I’m shocked as his words sink into my very core, suddenly conjuring up some difficult memories from my past. My immediate instinct is to shut the conversation down, to hide from them, but I don’t want to. I feel a driving need to keep this communication going.

  MissGinFizz: I completely agree. Though I do believe that hard work and effort has to be part of the picture. People can’t just be handed things on a plate without any effort whatsoever.

  GrahamLeeton: Yet many people are – and more often they’re the privileged ones. If they have the contacts, the right postcode…

  MissGinFizz: That is true. It’s the playing field that’s so uneven. Everyone should have the same chance in life. For some it’s such a desperate struggle – those born into money and a comfortable life simply
don’t have the first clue.

  GrahamLeeton: You sound like you may be talking from experience?

  I hesitate, my breathing shallow. He’s tapped into this so quickly. Do I want to share how I grew up? It’s been my shameful secret for so long – from all those whom I met from university onwards anyway. I’ve never wanted to share it, even acknowledge it. But there’s something about this guy that makes me feel I’m in a safe place. That I don’t need to be ashamed. He doesn’t know who I am, and he seems to have some understanding himself.

  No. Not now. Perhaps not ever. But definitely not now.

  GrahamLeeton picks up on my hesitation and moves the conversation on.

  GrahamLeeton: Sorry, MissGinFizz. That was possibly a little too intrusive. Let’s get back to more important things. Your superhero name?

  MissGinFizz: No, it’s fine… I’m just… OK, yeah, change of subject. My superhero identity would be… hang on… *plays hold music*

  GrahamLeeton: I’m imagining some kind of cringeworthy lift music. ;)

  MissGinFizz: No way! My imaginary hold music is great. I use The Killers. Right, I’ve got it! I’d be Mirror Woman.

  MissGinFizz: No, wait… that’s rubbish…

  MissGinFizz: I’m Reflektra!

  MissGinFizz: Can you tell I’m on Google looking up Marvel’s characters? :)

  MissGinFizz: Are you still there??

  GrahamLeeton: Sorry, I was obviously enjoying The Killers too much. :) Reflektra, eh? So, I’m guessing your superpower is something to do with showing people their true selves?

  MissGinFizz: Exactly that! I’d hold the mirror up and show them how meaningless it is to be so obsessed with having lots of money and things – with materialistic wealth. A bit like the way the three ghosts show Scrooge his reality in A Christmas Carol.

  GrahamLeeton: I like it! So, how would that story go? Tell me more about Reflektra’s specific modus operandi?

  I become so immersed in our conversation that, by the time I glance at my watch again, it’s nearly four in the morning. With such energising, amusing and mind-stimulating chat, I’m reluctant to call it a night. But if I don’t want to feel like crap for a second day, I have to get some sleep. I politely wrap things up, say goodnight and shut down my laptop.