Chapter 10

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What was that old adage again? Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen? Charlie had never been great at that. She could try, and she had succeeded briefly once or twice in the past, but sooner rather than later she’d get scared that her apparent lack of interest would drive whatever guy she was interested in away, and she would revert to her usual type, wearing her heart on her sleeve.

So, although she decided not to reply immediately to either of Jake’s messages, at twelve thirty she suddenly realised if Jake didn’t hear from her soon, he might get booked up for something else and not be able to meet her after all. Immediately panicking, she pulled her phone out of her bag, dropping it in her haste, and then missing it a couple of times while trying to grab it off the floor. Her fingers flying over her touchscreen, she wasn’t even breathing evenly as she typed, but her response came out astoundingly cool. 

You’re quite the smooth-talker, aren’t you? Drinks sound good. Where and what time were you thinking?

She gave herself a mental pat on the back for her own smoothness while she tried to calm down, and then put her phone back in her bag, telling herself an immediate reply didn’t matter, but unable to stop herself checking every minute on the minute. Please still be free, she pleaded to herself. Please.

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Several hours later, she pushed open the door to Tabac and looked around with trepidation. With the exception of the work local, she normally wasn’t really one for walking into a pub herself (it made her feel anxious as she felt like all eyes were on her as soon as she walked in anywhere alone)  but she hadn’t wanted to come across as needy by asking Jake if he would meet her outside. Her alternative was to turn up ten minutes early so he would have to find her, and it gave her a couple of minutes to compose herself.

The small but atmospheric bar was fairly quiet so she ordered a glass of prosecco from the bar, and placed her jacket and bag on a chair next to the bar while she was waiting. “Actually,” she turned back to the barman. “Can you make that two proseccos?” She drained the first glass while waiting for the second. The bar guy was nonplussed - this was Glasgow after all. She just felt she needed a little bit of Italian courage before Jake walked in.

Sitting down, she started to feel nervous again and delicately sipped the second glass as if it was her first and like she did things like this all the time. She cursed herself inwardly for not trying the whole internet dating thing more - maybe she’d have a better idea how to behave on dates and what to actually say, rather than blurting out accidental double entendres and asking inappropriate questions. She had to play it cool. Cooooooool.

She crossed her legs - too posed? Then uncrossed them - but then what to do with them? Stretch one out? No, she was now too slumped in the chair? 

She could see the barman looking over at her skeptically now and realised she was muttering to herself. This was so not the epitome of sophistication she was aiming for, she realised. She took out her phone, thinking she could maybe just spend her time on Facebook while she waited. As she clicked into the app she spotted another baby scan picture in one update, another “happy anniversary to my amazing hubby” message, and decided to metaphorically back right back out of Facebook-land. “This is the way madness lies,” she whispered to herself. 

But something gave her pause right as she moved to do so - there was a list of friend suggestions scrolling horizontally across the middle of the page and the first one was . . . you’ve guessed it - Aaron.

There’s many a rumour about Facebook friend suggestions, one being that a lot of suggestions are generated as a result of the suggested person having a wee stalk of your own profile. Whether that was actually true or not, Charlie had no idea, but the suggestion could also just as likely popped up due to the several work friends they had in common. Weirdly, she had never thought to look Aaron up on Facebook before but now . . . Her forefinger paused over his profile . . .  and then she couldn’t help but dive in.

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