Skye and the City (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 11

By the time Monday morning rolls around, my anxiety levels are high, and I'm running almost exclusively on my nerves. Today is the day I meet Ross!

I would have been feeling agitated about that anyway, but it's probably far worse now that he's gone radio-silent on me. If anything, it now feels a little "stalker-ish" that I'm going to this event, as if I'm going just to see him. Which I know technically is the case . . . But I don't want him to think that!

It also probably doesn't help that Orlagh and I spent most of Saturday on a quest to find Jay, with absolutely no positive outcome. One of the few concrete facts I remembered about him was that he managed a bar in the city - but he hadn't told me the name of it, or what part of the city it was in, which slightly complicated matters on the soulmate scavenger hunt.

"We'll visit every pub if we have to!" Orlagh had vowed dramatically. She was approaching the search in an almost millitary fashion, pouring over the Maps app on her phone and sectioning Glasgow off into manageable chunks. "We can tackle a selection of them each weekend . . . And get a cheeky drink while we're doing it, of course!"

I was starting to suspect Orlagh was mainly just into this project for the frequent pub crawls.

Anyway, we'd applied ourselves to the cause with true dedication on Saturday night, managing to work our way through a bunch of pubs in Merchant City, with no success. At every bar, while ordering our round, Orlagh had asked if anyone called Jay worked there . . . And so far, no one did. 

We almost thought we'd struck it lucky at one point, but it turned out they'd misheard . . . After all, I'm fairly sure my soulmate isn't a fifty-something female called Kay who works in one of the dodgier pubs in that area. Although, I guess we never really know what fate has in store for us!

It was like searching for a needle in a haystack - and my only reward was a hangover that saw me all the way through Sunday and was still slightly pulling me under today.

Despite the two-day-hangover, I've made sure to make an effort with my appearance. Wound my dark hair up into those heat-free curlers overnight so it now flows down in effortless waves past my shoulders. Applied my make-up with care - the perfect "natural" look. Glossy "kissable" lips. Not that I think there will be any kissing, of course - I'll be lucky if Ross even speaks to me!

His sudden about-face has been playing on my mind since Friday. I still can't work out why he went cold like that. The only conclusion I can reach is that someone was monitoring either the calls or emails between us, decided we weren't being "professional" enough, and had a word with him. Which I guess is fair enough, but merely remembering the tone of that last email still causes ice-cool humiliation to trickle through my bones.

Sitting on the coach, overnight bag tucked at my feet, I toss an Ibuprofen into my mouth and chase it down with some water, praying that the hammering in my brain ceases soon. I'll need a clear head without any ongoing construction work to deal with these two days.

"Mind if I join you, good lady?"

Of course, I didn't expect it to be Ross (especially not with chat like that ), but I'm still momentarily disappointed when I realise it's Gareth - the other I.T. guy - hovering in the aisle beside me. Still, I smile agreeably - he's actually a very nice guy and one of the few people I actually know in the college. I need him on side today!

"I didn't expect you to be on this trip," Gareth observes after he sinks into the seat beside me. "Temps don't normally go to these things."

"I'm doing Sylvia a favour," I reply, crossing my fingers. Although it's true in a way! "So - um - is it just you who is here to represent I.T. or is anyone else coming from your department?" I can't actually remember seeing Gareth's name on the attendee list - maybe he's here in Ross' place? My heart sinks at the very thought.