Chapter Thirteen Ella #2
Next, I sat opposite Chad, a head tennis coach who had relocated from Washington, DC to New York. He worked at one of the city’s most prestigious sporting clubs, catering to the wealthy so as to give them the competitive backhand edge.
‘So, you must have met some really famous people?’ I asked, impressed, as he divulged his career.
Chad nodded with the utmost sincerity, like he was breaking some form of confidentiality clause just mentioning it.
‘Like who?’ I probed. ‘Come on, spill.’
His white teeth gleamed as he grinned. ‘OK, OK, I’ve met Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Kanye.’ He leaned in and whispered, ‘Trump. But I’d better keep that on the downlow. We Americans take our politics very seriously.’
I smiled, observing the handsome, laid-back, athletic man I was chatting with. He seemed completely normal so far.
‘Honestly, Ella, I’ve made it sound way cooler than it is. Most of the time I’m teaching tennis to businessmen who are far too used to everything going their own way so can’t understand why I can’t turn them into Novak Djokovic on ninety minutes a week.’
‘Well, I am impressed. Even if I hate tennis. My ex used to make me play a couple of times a week.’ I winced at the memory. ‘It killed my knees.’
Chad seemed confused. ‘Why didn’t you say no?’
I paused, thinking back to that time. Why didn’t I say no? I wondered. Why did I always try to accommodate everything Philip liked?
‘I’m a pussy!’ I shrugged. ‘What can I say?’
He blushed slightly, opening his mouth, then stopping himself and shaking his head.
‘What?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘No, it was stupid.’ Chad smiled, his icy blue eyes still bright in the dim lighting.
‘Tell me!’
He ran a hand through his wavy blond hair. ‘I was about to say . . . OK . . . Here goes – if you need help with your ball skills, or a massage for that dodgy knee, then I could always help?’ He paused, looking slightly embarrassed, then we both burst out laughing.
‘I knew that line wouldn’t land – not with you?’
‘You would be right,’ I admitted.
‘Damn!’ He shook his head. ‘Have I turned you off? I’ve lost you now, haven’t I?’ he asked, looking panicked. ‘I knew as soon as you sat down, you were different, that you’d be more difficult to hit on.’
I couldn’t help but smile. ‘To be honest, I broke up with my boyfriend last week and I only came here tonight because my friend Katy has had this crazy bit of guy drama since arriving in New York. She wanted to do this to cheer her up. So, I was never going to give a green light to anyone.’
Chad paused, then leaned in. ‘You only got here yesterday? And she’s already having man troubles? Which one is she? C’mon, you got to point her out!’ He was turning his neck, stretching to see over the booths.
I burst out laughing. ‘Stop!’
Ping.
‘Oh, no!’ Chad replied, hearing the bell. ‘This was the first conversation I’ve had tonight that’s not fake or corny.’
I agreed, standing up, before I added, ‘You did try and make it a little corny!’
‘Yes, yes, I did. And I apologise. I guess this is it then, since you have no intention of matching any of us.’
I shrugged. ‘I guess so . . . unless.’ I turned back around to face Chad. ‘How about I forgive your cheesy chat-up line, and I green light you, but only if you promise to tell me some celebrity secrets?’
‘Oh, that is extortion,’ Chad called out as I moved to the following table. ‘Which means it’s definitely a deal!’
I giggled my way to the next table and found myself opposite a grey-haired gentleman named Leo.
‘Hi, I’m Ella,’ I said, shaking his hand. I wondered if he’d come on the wrong evening, as Katy had said it was a twenties to thirties thing.
‘Lovely to meet you, darlin’. I’m Leo.’ He was dressed in a cream cowboy-style shirt with a matching hat.
‘Oh, are you from Texas?’ I asked, noting his southern drawl.
‘Yes, ma’am, that’s right,’ he replied. ‘I’m in the oil business, you see, pays real good.
’ He raised his eyebrows, and I watched his forehead scrunch up.
I wasn’t quite sure if he wanted me to deliver him some form of standing ovation for having a well-paid career.
‘I wind up in New York a fair bit, so I thought I’d mosey on into one of these nights, see what’s what.
’ Leo leaned forward, making me pull back automatically.
‘Thought, well, you never know, I might stumble across some pretty little gals lookin’ for some company from down south. ’
I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t help but twist it in utter revulsion.
‘Cool! And what age are you, Leo, if you don’t mind me asking? I noticed they had different age groups on different nights of the week. They seem to cater for everyone here.’
‘I’m sixty-five, miss.’ He rested his hands proudly on his substantial stomach.
‘Aww, OK, that’s good,’ I said, wondering if he was going to take my not-so-subtle hint that he didn’t meet the criteria for tonight’s event.
‘Y’see, sugar, I much prefer the younger ladies. These darn knees are in bad shape now.’
Fuck, I know that feeling, I thought. Me and Leo, we have so much in common.
‘And I suppose I’ve realised as time’s gone on that I like my women how I like my mares: young, fit, lean . . .’ He winked, or at least that’s what I thought it was . . . ‘and always ready for riding.’
I wanted to die inside. I honestly felt violated as he gazed across the table at me. I shuffled in my seat. How fucking long was left? Mares? This was a fucking mare all right. I was ready to kill Katy.
‘Right. OK. And have you attended one of these events before?’ I continued, trying to appear relaxed as I glanced over my shoulder. I wanted to catch Zola’s attention, but she was in fits of laughter with Chad.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Leo grunted.
‘And do you have any luck?’ I questioned, wondering who in the world would fall for this piss-poor patter.
Leo grunted again, his stomach bouncing upward at the question. ‘I did say I was in the oil business, didn’t I?’
His eyes skimmed up and down my body and, very slowly, he licked his lips. I felt a shiver run down my spine. Maybe I should excuse myself to go to the bathroom?
‘And let me tell you, darlin’, you look like you’d taste as sweet as a fresh Sunday pie. Mmmm . . . Hell, I could eat you right up this second.’ He grinned widely, his lips still shining from where he’d licked them.
I glanced behind me, hoping, praying for the bell to ring.
‘Oh, my God. OK . . . Thanks. Yeah. So, do you have any questions for me?’ I asked, not knowing if I should go along with his blatant misogyny or insult the Texas tycoon. But I had seen enough of Yellowstone to realise there was no way I was starting beef with a cowboy.
‘No, ma’am. I am a man of few words.’
Could have fooled me; the cunt hadn’t stopped talking since I sat down.
‘I’m more about big old gestures,’ he almost snarled as his crinkly eyes peered down to his groin.
I really didn’t want them to, but my eyes automatically followed his and – dear Jesus – his bulge was gigantic.
Leo had his own Empire State Building poking at the stitching of his cream trousers, striving to get out.
Yip, Grandpa had a rip-roaring rager. No wonder his knees had gone, lugging that weapon around.
Ping.
I stood up, eyes still popping as I struggled to shake off the image of the cowboy and the extra-long lasso coiled up in his pants.
Eventually, it was over, and Zola, Katy and I sought refuge in a pizza slice shop opposite the bar to analyse our dates. We sat around a table, giggling over our evening, with a selection of slices scattered across it.
‘Well, I greenlit quite a few,’ Katy concluded.
Zola and I stared at one another in complete disbelief.
‘Katy, who? There was one, maybe two max, guys in there that I could secure any form of normal chat with,’ Zola said.
‘What!’ Katy looked shocked, pizza slice halfway to her mouth. ‘Well, there was Chad, he was cute, Rory, Bill, Adrian, and Leo was so sweet!’
‘Leo! Leo was a dirty old trouser snake pervert! And Adrian was a fucking stalker!’ I laughed, wondering if she was joking with us.
‘A convicted stalker at that,’ Zola added. ‘Honestly, I know Curtis is hard work, but at least he’s not a certified psycho! I’ll give you Chad, though, he was well cute.’
‘When do we find out who’s matched us?’ I asked Katy. I hadn’t greenlit any of the sad fuckers, but still, it would be nice to know who liked me.
‘Eleven,’ Katy announced. ‘We’ll get a text. But we only get told the ones who have liked us if we’ve liked them too.’
Zola huffed and sat back in her chair. ‘So, that was pointless then.’ She also hadn’t given anyone the green light.
There was a brief silence between us, then Katy said, ‘I was thinking maybe I should text Mason and clear the air.’
‘NO!’ Zola and I shouted across the table in unison. It was like a reflex. The few other people in the pizza shop turned to us with puzzled looks.
‘Katy, no! There is no point,’ I said in a quieter voice, leaning across the table towards her.
‘But if we’re going to be working together . . . I just thought . . .’
Zola grabbed Katy’s hand. ‘He doesn’t deserve a conversation. It will confuse you more. Don’t let him mess with your head. It was one night, babe. Let’s forget it happened, yeah?’
Katy attempted a smile, but I could see how much she was hurting inside. ‘You’re right.’
We sat for another twenty minutes, trying our best to cheer Katy up by re-enacting all the speed dates we had just encountered. Eventually, I stood up and pulled my friends from their seats.
‘Let’s go back to the apartment and look over this contract, eh? I’m exhausted,’ I admitted, feeling the effects of jet lag, a new job, a temporarily missing friend and being sexually harassed all evening weighing heavily on me.
‘Sure, but I’m staying up until eleven,’ Katy warned us. ‘I’m waiting to see my matches!’
I nodded slowly, wondering if this girl would ever learn her fucking lesson.