Choosing Her Lover

Seated at the bar, he is watching the door as I walk in. He stands as he sees me, smiling. “Debbie?”

“Ryan?”

He looks good enough to eat. Beckoning me to the barstool by him, “What can I get you?”

“Red wine, please. Did I keep you waiting long?”

“Not at all, I just arrived a couple of minutes ago.”

As he waves over the barman, I study him. Ryan understated himself in his profile; tall, with strapping shoulders and a lean fit build. Dark, slightly wavy hair and a light tan set off his white smile and dark eyes.

He is disconcertingly attractive. There’s usually a reason that someone who looks this good is on the dating circuit, even when it’s only for sex dating.

Fourth finger, left hand…. No, nothing there….

Nice hands though…. long fingers….

Holding two glasses of wine, Ryan eye-points me across the room. “I hope I’m not out of order here, but I booked us a table. Even if we can’t stand the sight of each other after a couple of hours, at least we’ll have a good meal inside us.”

He sees me looking askance at the table. Holding both hands up, almost warding me away, “Hey, it doesn’t mean I’m making any assumptions other than it’s the end of the working day, and I’m guessing that you’re hungry. I certainly am.”

Feeling foolish. “Yes, sorry. My suspicious nature….”

He looks at me oddly.

Weighing me up?

I think so, yes.

“Shall we sit?”

He seats himself opposite me, ignoring his wine, gazing at me. Chin propped on a fist, he is, very obviously, looking me up and down.

“So, what’s the deal?” he asks. “Women who look like you don’t tend to appear on dating sites like that one. There’s generally some guy in the background beating the jungle drums.” He glances down at my left hand. “And if you ever wore a wedding ring, there’s no sign of it now. Have you ever been married? For that matter, are you married now? Is this supposed to be some kind of ‘on the side’, ‘playing away from home’ kind of thing?”

He's wary of me….

“Is this ‘Twenty Questions’? Yes, I’ve been married. But no, not now. Been there, done that….”

He laughs. “…. Seen the movie, read the book, got the tee-shirt, eh? That bad, was it?”

“Oh, yes, that bad. But I’ve got control of my own life now, and I’ll not be letting it slip out of my fingers again.”

He sniffs, reflectively I think. Not critically. “That’s why you’re doing this? You don’t want entanglements?”

“That’s right. What about you?”

of a nightmare. Just now, I prefer to keep things very easy-going. No

you know,

where you

Are you a liar?

think so. You’re right. You’re not conventionally pretty. Your features

out laughing. “You’re a silver-tongued charmer

I offended you? I

with some typical bit of patronising, male blarney, and you

chair,

I don’t think you’re pretty, doesn’t mean I don’t find you attractive. Quite the contrary. You’re just…. unusual, in more ways than one I

“You can ask.”

really

to hand

It’s quite dangerous doing what you’re doing,

name. No

to hear it. Have you encountered any…?” He

weed out at the e-mail and messaging stage. Only one got past my first defences so that so that I actually met

looks intrigued.

the phone a couple of times before we agreed on a date. He had a beautiful speaking voice, all honey and cream. Y’know, a Richard Burton, or Morgan Freeman, or Alan Rickman kind of voice. But when I met him, I knew instantly

his head.

body language. I made a point of sitting on the opposite side of the table from him, but he moved across, all but pinned me into my seat.

“What did you do?”

a polite couple of non-alcoholic drinks, said graciously that it had been nice…. which it hadn’t… and we must do this again sometime…. which I was lying about…. Then I got in my car

was really a screwball, or if it was

The messages started coming in within five minutes of me leaving. They were polite enough at first,

“In what way, strange?”

were…. odd; revolting actually. I’m pretty broadminded, but I wasn’t interested in going the places his mind roamed. I don’t know if he imagined it was some kind of seduction technique, but it felt like stalking… I changed my phone number in the end.… Um, do you mind if

course. Not at all. But after an experience like that, you still

him. And I’m not afraid of men in general. I

your own judgement for this? How do you know that a man you meet like this

know that? How do you know that the woman you meet in the theatre, or

nodding. “Point taken. I exercise my

“So….?”

you and I hooked up, this would be strictly a

me. I don’t want to be tied at the hip. I like a bit of fun a couple of times

no dreams of white

“White horses?”

carry you off for happily-ever-afters in some far away

I laugh. “Not me.”

would this be, um…. exclusive?” he

pass by every few weeks… and you want