Chapter Seven #3
‘Cinnamon-sugar churros with ice cream and chocolate sauce will fix that. Catch the eye of that server on his way back if you can. Now, back to my exciting news. So, I was sharing a table with this woman last night in that new cocktail bar on Dawson. Rebecca Byrne-Smyth. She set up the Beyond Looks dating site a few months ago, and it’s really taking off now.
Everyone’s talking about it. First names only.
You don’t have to upload any pictures if you don’t want to, and you only have two lines to describe yourself or what you’re looking for. ’
‘Right.’ I lick my fingers, pick up my napkin.
‘So, when you said you wanted me to find you a date for my party I thought it might be good place to start . . . and I set you up a profile on it.’ Mia clicks her fingers on both hands, jiggles her shoulders.
‘You did what?’ I inhale sharply.
A flick of her wrist, an impatience. ‘Rebecca walked me through it, and she gave me free membership. I had that lovely picture of you with your design award on my phone, and I know what you’re looking for so . . .’
‘Mia!’ I sit back. I can’t really protest too much, though, as I did kind of start this by telling her I wanted a date.
‘There’s no direct contact between members. All correspondence goes through the administrators. You don’t get the person’s surname, phone number, nothing. It’s attracting really sound people by all accounts. She was inspired by the Barbra Streisand film The Mirror Has Two Faces.’
‘I’ve never seen it,’ I say, catching the eye of the server, lifting my finger.
‘Well, watch it.’ Mia orders her dessert and an iced hazelnut latte, puts her glass down and rummages in her bag. ‘It’s all about the “emotional intelligence of connection”, not the “physical”.’ Again, she uses her fingers as quotation marks.
I nod.
‘So you can scroll away and find a party date on there?’
‘Definitely.’ I watch her as she pops two painkillers out of a packet and plonks them in her water. ‘By the way, Senorita, did you get that spicy margarita from Polish Marek with the multiple piercings last night after we spoke?’
‘Thanks, I did and he’s just the funniest guy.
God, Grace, I haven’t laughed so much in years.
My stomach actually ached. He likes me, I know he does, and I like him .
. . he’s incredibly smart, but I’m just not ready for anything serious.
He said he’ll give me all the time I want. ’ Her face is flushed.
‘Was it a late one?’ I nod at the painkillers.
‘Have you a hangover?’ Mia’s life as a freelancer for various publications sees her get offers for after-parties all the time, which she never used to take up, because Michael was always waiting up for her at home, but is maybe starting to take advantage of now.
‘A bit. I’m so not used to partying after work.
We left the cocktail bar and went to a cute Italian off Parliament Street, shared a pepperoni pizza and a pitcher of beer.
Marek was full of compliments about me.’ Mia shrugged.
‘You know, I don’t recall the last time Michael ever told me I looked great.
Anyway, there was a jazz singer on the piano – oh, Grace, she was exceptional.
I felt like I was an extra in La La Land, like more alive than I’ve done in years .
. . But also a bit guilty about Michael.
I met his mum in Lidl yesterday.’ Slowly, she raises her big brown eyes up to me then she downs the fizzing medicine and sits back as her churros and iced latte arrive in front of her. ‘Thank you so much.’ The server leaves.
‘Mia, listen to me. Michael will be fine. It didn’t work out, that’s all there is to it,’ I say in a quiet, supporting voice, nodding my head slowly.
She fidgets with the sleeve on her T-shirt avoiding my eye contact. ‘Marek said the same.’ She stabs her fork into her dessert and chocolate oozes across the plate. ‘Michael’s mum told me he’s been in therapy since we broke up. He goes every week, religiously, apparently . . .’
‘That’s great, really. Good for him, pity he didn’t agree to counselling with you,’ I can’t help saying. ‘Did she mention about the house sale?’ Mia has been trying to get Michael to allow her get renters in their house, until she finds her feet, but he’s keen to sell.
‘She was more interested in making me feel bad.’ Mia rolls her eyes.
‘You know Daphne, she’s such a drain. She’s heard about my divorce party from our shared beauticians, told me it was a disgusting thing to do.
’ Mia licks the back of her spoon then adds, ‘Maybe she’s right.
I thought it would be a bit of fun, but now I feel awful. ’
‘Well don’t. You’re divorced now. You can do what you want. Want a piece of advice?’
‘Shoot.’
‘Shop in a different Lidl and stop feeling guilty.’
She grins. ‘I will.’
Her phone rings out, looking down at the caller ID. ‘Marek.’
‘Promise.’ I extend my pinkie.
‘Promise.’ She hooks her pinkie with mine, and before she answers her call, tips the Post-it again. ‘Just download the app for Beyond Looks there, I’ll be back in a few.’
I fold the little yellow Post-it into my purse. As I set about downloading the dating app to my phone to keep Mia happy, I know I’ll never log on. I just want Logan back. And if I have to turn up to the party solo to see him, so be it.