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?”

a bit of a nightmare. Just now, I prefer to keep things very easy-going.

pauses; sips his wine. “You didn’t do yourself justice you know,

“Is this where you

a liar?

think so. You’re right. You’re not conventionally pretty. Your features are quite strong, and your nose is a bit big

burst out laughing. “You’re a silver-tongued charmer aren’t

“Have I offended you?

come out with some typical bit of patronising, male

sits back in his chair, holding

find you attractive. Quite the contrary. You’re just…. unusual, in more ways than one I think…. Can I ask

“You can ask.”

Debbie really your

to hand out my

doing what you’re doing, especially

follow the rules. No name.

to hear it. Have you encountered

Looneys? Yes, a few. Most of them I manage to weed out at the e-mail and messaging stage. Only one got past

intrigued.

voice, all honey and cream. Y’know, a Richard Burton, or Morgan Freeman, or Alan Rickman kind of voice. But when I

his

in his 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. He kept coming too close, invading my space…. And there was something about the way he looked at me. Too.… oh, I don’t know….

“What did you do?”

been nice…. which it hadn’t… and

was really a screwball, or if it

he didn’t have my real name or where I lived, he did have my mobile number. The messages started coming in within five minutes of me leaving. They were polite enough at first, but when I said that

“In what way, strange?”

very graphic descriptions of what he wanted to do with me. And some of them 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

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

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

a man you meet like this isn’t a

that? How do you know that the woman you meet in the theatre, or the library didn’t just walk

grins, nodding. “Point taken. I

“So….?”

and I hooked up, this would be strictly a casual

Not me. I don’t want to be tied at the hip. I like a bit of fun a couple of times a week, and then my

no dreams of white horses

“White horses?”

in shining armour, come to carry you off

I laugh. “Not me.”

“And would this be, um…. exclusive?” he

you just want to pass by every few weeks… and you want