‘You are quite famous, I hear now. Is it true they have asked you to take part in next year’s I’m a celebrity?’
‘Exaggerated.I’ve gone veggie, so bugs would be off the menu.’ Not that it would have stopped me if they asked.
‘If that’s all?’ he went to leave.
‘Are you married?’ I blurted out, feeling the heat rising from my neck to my face. He stopped, turned, and looked at me, shocked.
‘No.’
‘A significant other?’ My heart spiked, making my voice squeaky.
‘No,’ he answered like he was under pressure.
I grinned. ‘Then can I ask you out for a coffee sometime?’ Thump, thump in my chest, knowing my face could light up a dark room.
I watched him consider. I think I had stopped breathing. The old me would never consider asking a man out, not my style. The way I saw it, he could only say no.
‘Sometimes, yeah, can do that.’
‘Tonight, at seven?’ I shot at him. He thought he’d got off lightly. He didn’t know me.
‘Coffee at seven?’
‘Could be eight. Doesn’t everyone drink coffee after dinner?’
He laughed out loud, and I was not sure that was a good sign, but I crossed my fingers, my toes, and everything. I’d never asked a boy or a man out, always the other way around. But lying awake at night thinking of this guy was driving me nuts, and I needed to know if I stood a chance.
‘Okay, Miss West, dinner at seven. Should I pick you up?’
‘Yes, James, you can.’ I had looked him up and found his first name.
With a smile on his lips, he turned back to the station while I punched the air, then aware he had watched through the glass door. A bit late to be all dignified, I gave a little wave.
Back home, I felt I was walking on air, bouncing along all but bursting into song like one of those old musicals my dad likes to watch.
Opening the door to the house, I was greeted by Mrs Brown in the kitchen with dad, and a dog, being petted and fed treats. I wandered in bemused.
‘I thought since the thing with the awful man, a guard dog would make you feel more secure,’ said Mrs Brown. Dad lifted his eyes to me. I think he was just along for the ride.
‘Got him from an animal shelter,’ beamed our neighbour, pleased with herself.
The dog, a Rottweiler, eyed me and growled through its teeth. I stepped back. No way was I touching the thing.
‘Now, Maggie, you stop that.’
‘Maggie?’ I swallowed.
‘Yes, it’s her name, left abandoned in a house. Isn’t she beautiful? She’ll be company for both of you.’
The following day I moved in with Alex.
End
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