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?”

last long-term relationship was a bit of a nightmare. Just now, I prefer to keep things very

know, on your profile. Very few women describe themselves as

an eyebrow at him. “Is this where you tell me

Are you a

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

laughing. “You’re a silver-tongued

furrows. “Have I offended you?

some typical bit of patronising,

sits back in his chair, holding

the

“You can ask.”

really your

site like that, do you think I’m going to hand out my

quite dangerous doing what you’re doing, especially for a

rules. No name. No address. Meet in a public

Have you

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.

talked on 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

cocks his head.

but he moved across, all but pinned me into my seat. He kept coming too close, invading my space…. And there was

“What did you do?”

and we must do this again sometime…. which I was lying about…. Then I got in my car and drove off, determined never to

really a screwball, or if it was just your

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

“In what way, strange?”

sending me 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 mind if

all. But after an experience like

afraid of men in

for this? How do you know that a man you meet

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

“Point taken. I

“So….?”

a casual thing. You’re not husband-hunting? Looking for

want to be tied at the hip. I like a bit of fun a couple of times a week, and then

no dreams of white

“White horses?”

armour, come to carry you off for happily-ever-afters

I laugh. “Not me.”

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

profile says you just want to pass by every