Chapter Eight
I got the drink. I got the boy. I got the date. My third in a matter of days. It seems that for me, dates are like buses; you wait a year for one and then three come along at once.
After chatting for a while at the bar, Leonardo and I exchanged numbers and we pinged easy, fun, flirty messages back and forth and arranged to meet up for coffee in town at the weekend.
Leonardo suggested the venue, and I was pleased when he chose an independent coffee shop with strong ethics rather than one of the big chains.
Thea comes to the rescue outfit-wise, lending me a pale mint green chunky-knit cropped sweater, which I wear with my beige combats.
If I’m going to continue on this dating path, I’m going to need to go shopping.
The coffee shop is just off St Peter’s Square, and I’m relieved to see Leonardo sitting at a table at the window, so I don’t have to wait around anxiously. He spots me too and waves me over as I motion to the counter.
‘Don’t worry about queuing.’ He presses his lips to my cheek before pulling out a chair for me. ‘We’ll get five-star treatment here.’
‘We will?’ I unhook my bag and tuck it under the table as I sit down. I don’t think I’ve had five-star treatment in a coffee shop. I’m not sure I know what five-star treatment would entail.
‘Absolutely.’ Leonardo nods to my right and I twist to see what he’s indicating. Or who. A girl is approaching us, her high ponytail swishing as she bounds towards us, her glossy, candyfloss-pink lips spread to reveal gleaming teeth. She’s wearing a branded apron and a name tag.
‘Hi, there.’ She holds out a hand. ‘Christina, isn’t it? It’s so lovely to meet you.’
I take her hand, my eyes widening at Leonardo. So, this is five-star treatment. Personalised service with a beaming smile.
‘I’ve heard all about you.’ She gives my hand a brief but firm shake. ‘Leonardo is besotted.’
‘Molly.’ Leonardo’s tone is low, a warning, but there’s a grin on his face.
‘What?’ She laughs, shaking her head. ‘You so are. Honestly, Christina. He hasn’t stopped talking about you.
It’s Christina said this, Christina said that, and Christina is so funny.
And he said you were utterly charming and so pretty and he was right.
’ She leans in close to whisper in my ear. ‘I think he’s going to fall so hard.’
I laugh awkwardly, my eyes widening at Leonardo again. This doesn’t feel like five-star service. It feels a bit much.
‘Molly.’ There’s that warning tone again from Leonardo, but still the grin remains on my date’s face. ‘What are you saying? Are you giving away all my secrets?’
‘What secrets would they be?’ Molly presses a finger into the side of her lips. ‘Maybe about the time you…’
‘Stop.’ Leonardo leans forward across the table, his jaw slack, and he places a hand on mine. ‘Don’t listen to a word she says. It’s all lies.’
‘Do you two…’ I look from Leonardo to the waitress. They’re grinning at each other. ‘Do you know each other?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Molly’s eyes sparkle as she giggles.
‘I said stop.’ Leonardo is trying so hard to be firm with the waitress but his face cracks with a smile. ‘Molly is my oldest friend. We’ve known each other since nursery.’
‘Since I found him crying in a corner after he’d wet his pants.’ Molly takes a step back and holds her hands up as Leonardo aims the weakest of glares in her direction. ‘What? It’s true. And you were three years old. It isn’t as though you still wet yourself now.’
‘I don’t, I swear.’ Leonardo cringes. ‘But yes, that is how we met, and we’ve been best friends ever since.’
‘BFFs.’ Molly points her index finger at Leonardo. He meets the tip with his own finger and they both make a ‘boop’ sound. ‘When Leonardo said he’d asked you out, I said you must bring her here, so I can meet her. Though I feel like I already know you from all the messages.’
‘All the…’ He shared our messages with Molly? Like, she read them? I’d given Jonah and Rhys the gist of what we’d talked about, but they didn’t actually read them, word for word.
‘We share everything.’ Molly waves her hand, as though she’s wiping away any misgivings I may have.
‘BFFs, right?’ She holds her finger out and Leonardo ‘boops’ it again.
‘But not in a weird, boundary-crossing way. And, for what it’s worth, I think you are perfect for Leonardo.
His dream girl. And I think you’re going to fit in with us like you’ve been here from the very start. ’
‘Oh.’ I nod. I think I smile, but my face feels a bit numb. ‘That’s nice.’ I want to remind her that this is only a first date, that we don’t know that anything is going to happen beyond a cup of coffee, but my brain has decided to shut down my words.
‘I can’t wait for you to meet Ziggy and Trixie.’ Molly gasps and grabs the back of my chair. ‘You should meet up with us later. Ziggy and Trixie will love you.’
I have no idea who Ziggy and Trixie are; our WhatsApp messages didn’t extend to the details of our friends, not even Leonardo’s BFF Molly. What I do know, however, is that it’s far too soon to be meeting friends (BFF Molly included). This all feels far too full-on for my liking.
Leonardo must sense my discomfort, because he leans across the table and elaborates on the identity of his friends. ‘Trixie’s my Frenchie and Ziggy is Molly’s Shih Tzu.’
Molly drags out the chair between me and Leonardo and plonks herself down. ‘They’re BFFs too. We meet up every evening to walk them in the park. You should totally come with us and get to know the other woman who has Leonardo’s heart.’
I will not be doing that. Not tonight. Probably not ever.
‘I, er, just need to pop to the loo.’ I scrape back my chair and scurry to the toilets, where I tap out a message to the group chat.
Is it normal for a guy to take you out to the place where his BFF
works? For her to join you on the date? And to invite you to third wheel
on their nightly dog walk?
I don’t even bother sending the message, and not just because it would give Rhys more ammunition to take the piss out of me and my meet-cute dates.
Seeing it written down is enough, because this is not normal or appropriate for a first date.
It is weird and it’s making me feel suffocated, which is not a good indicator of things to come.
Some may argue that I haven’t given Leonardo a chance, that I’m judging him on a five-minute interaction, but those people can do one because I’m out of here, right now, before I’ve even ordered a coffee.