I fix my attention on the table for a moment, but I can’t resist peeking up after a few minutes. He’s right about the blonde girl at the bar. She’s sitting on a bar stool, facing into the room and every few seconds, her eyes flicker towards me.
She looks about the same age as me, pretty and slim. She’s no Sierra, but she’s attractive and I guess it can’t hurt to buy her a drink and talk to her for a bit. And if one thing leads to another, maybe Nathan will be right and it will make me see Sierra was just a flight of fancy.
I finish the last bit of my drink and head towards the bar, purposely making a bee line for the part of the bar where the woman is sitting. I reach the bar. The bartender is busy serving someone else. I decide if I don’t speak to the woman now, I’m probably going to lose my nerve. “Hi,” I say to her. “Are you waiting for someone?”
She shakes her head. “No. I was meant to be meeting a friend here after work, but there was some sort of emergency and she had to stay over and work. I wanted a drink, so I thought why not.”
“Why not indeed.” I smile. “I’m Chance. Mind if I join you?”
“Sure.” She smiles.
I sit down on the bar stool next to her.
She swivels around so she’s facing me. “I’m Tiffany.”
The bartender moves to me and I ask for a rum and coke.
“Would you like a drink Tiffany?” I ask.
“Malibu and coke please,” she says.
I get her the drink and smile at her as she thanks me, suddenly completely lost for words. “So do you come here a lot?” I mentally kick myself for the clichéd question. I mean God, I might as well have just walked over here and told her I was desperate.
“Not much. You?” she says.
I shrug. “No. Not really.”
We lapse into a silence, an awkward silence that’s stretching out for far too long. I try my best to think of something interesting to say, but I fail miserably and resort instead to my favorite subject; work. “What do you do for a living?” I ask.
“I’m an escort,” she says.
“An escort?” I reply, shocked.
She bursts into laughter. “I’m joking. I work in retail. I’m a buyer for a boutique fashion brand.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You had me there,” I say, relaxing a little. “Do you enjoy your job?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I basically get paid to shop. I think it’s most women’s dream job.”
I’m not so sure about that. Sierra would hate it. I shake my head. Now isn’t the time to let Sierra back into my thoughts.
“What do you do?” Tiffany asks.
“I work as an interior designer within my family’s business,” I say.
“Oh,” she replies, clearly surprised. She laughs. “Now, you’re playing me right? Getting your own back.”
“No why?” I ask, surprised by her reaction.
She looks me up and down and shakes her head. “I just figured someone who was a designer would be dressed more casually. Maybe even sporting a paint splatter or two.” She laughs.
“Common misconception.” I smile. “On a bad day, you might catch me with ink splats from my designs, but I don’t actually get involved in the decorating, I just design the place.”
“Do you ever find that you have this vision in your mind and the decorators are just way off when they’ve finished?” she asks.
“Not so much now. I work with a trusted team who get me and understand my visions for a space, but in the past, yes, regularly. You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Have you been in this field?”
She shakes her head. “No, but part of my job is outlining how I want the window and in store displays to look, and you have no idea how many times I’ve just given up and done it myself to get it to look right.”
“Oh, I can well imagine,” I agree.
We share a few stories of our disasters and I find myself relaxing again and soon, my laughter is genuine. Tiffany is a nice girl and maybe Nathan was right, because as we move onto our next drink, I find myself warming to her.
We’re still sitting at the bar laughing and chatting when the bartender calls last orders. I ask Tiffany if she’d like another one, but she declines saying she had better call a cab. I nod and she slips off her stool and goes to make the call. She comes back for her handbag and I stand up and walk her outside.
I am suddenly awkward again. I like Tiffany, but I don’t find her attractive in the way I find Sierra attractive. Is it really fair to Tiffany to take this any further knowing I’d only be using her to try to forget Sierra? I already know the answer to that question, but maybe it’ll be okay if I make it clear this is a one night thing and she might be up for that. Although that didn’t exactly work with Sierra did it?
“What’s wrong?” Tiffany asks.
I shake my head and smile. “Nothing.”
“Yes, there is. You’ve gone all weird on me. Is it because you’re nervous? Don’t worry, I’m a sure thing.” She laughs.
That does it. I don’t want a sure thing with Tiffany. I want an unpredictable, messy thing with Sierra. “I’m sorry, you’re a nice girl and everything, and I’ve enjoyed your company tonight, but anything else would be a mistake.”
“You have a girlfriend?” she says, a little dejected.
“No. I’m no cheat. I just—there’s this girl I’m into that isn’t into me and I thought I was ready to move on, but I’m not. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t need to say you’re sorry. These things happen. And I appreciate your
