One Night OnlyChapter One
Chapter One
First of all, let me start by saying that I don’t usually do this sort of thing.
I know, I know, that’s what they all say but, honestly, I never do things like this – I’ve never done anything like this before.
It’s definitely what girls like me say – girls who are on the brink of being a bad girl, for the first time in their lives – as they negotiate with themselves inside their heads, weighing up the pros and cons of what they’re about to do. I’m trying to encourage myself to go for it, to make a strong case for this being a fantastic idea that I absolutely will not regret.
It’s 2021 (although not for much longer, it is New Year’s Eve tomorrow after all) and that’s as good a reason as any to do whatever the hell I want, right? Each to their own. I don’t judge other people so why should I worry about what people think of me? I am a modern, progressive women. That said, I did have to call my dad last week, to see if he would stop by and change a lightbulb for me in the bathroom. ‘How many blondes does it take to change a light bulb?’ he joked when he arrived. In my defence it was one of those spotlights that are wedged inside the ceiling, the ones that are really hard to get out without – and, yes, I do really hate myself for saying this – a strong pair of hands. I tried, I really did, but my flimsy girly hands were not up to the job, which, by the way, is a flaw with me and not with women generally. I am definitely not of the opinion that women need men, it’s just that I do, sometimes, for some things – the things I’m bad at.
I puff air from my cheeks. None of this is making me feel better, or like I’m doing the right thing. Even if it isn’t the right thing, just not feeling like it was the wrong thing would be progress. I need to try another angle…
I remind myself that I am young, free and single. Well, young-ish, because 32 isn’t exactly old, is it? at least I didn’t think it was, until a barrage of recent sponsored social media adverts started trying to flog me egg freezing services. I really, really hope this isn’t happening because of the demographic I’m in, because that would be sad, if that’s how the world sees me now. Me and my aging ovaries against all odds, unless I pay to have my eggs frozen of course.
Why am I thinking about my eggs right now? I know why it is, it’s because I always have a low-key existential crisis around New Year’s Eve. The thing that I don’t understand is why I’m thinking about it all right now, when I’m in a car with a man I hardly know, heading back to his place.
I’m not going to focus on my age, all I need to know is that I’m free and single. Obviously I’m free, no money is going to exchange money tonight, although I can’t say it wouldn’t be useful. I wonder what I would do, if I woke up in the morning, to find him gone, and a big wad of money on the bedside table. Ha! Big wad of money, I’m valuing myself rather highly for someone who hasn’t has sex in almost a year, aren’t I? It’ll be a miracle if I can remember what goes where. Also, not to poke more holes in my daydream, but we’re going to his house, so he’s not exactly going to disappear in the morning, is he?
Wow, the voice inside my head is talking some serious crap tonight. It’s probably because I’m a bit drunk – which is something I do do. This guy is lucky that I’m saying all of these things to myself, in my head. Thank God I am. Imagine if I started banging on about my eggs to him.
It’s definitely the alcohol that has given me this false sense of self-confidence tonight. I’ll either thank it or hate it in the morning. For now, all bets are off.
It’s so cold out there tonight that the taxi window is fogging up, probably from the heat coming from our bodies, warm from hours of drinking and dancing and kissing all night.
Shit, am I being reckless? No, I’m not, I could be way more reckless, for sure. I may have only known this guy for half a day, at the most, but he’s been sort of pre-vetted for me already. I met him at a work party, which means that he’s been through all the same strict checks I had to go through. Another detail that may or may not play on my mind tomorrow is that he’s kind of my new boss. Is that good or is that bad?
OK, scrap everything I just said, that is reckless, isn’t it? I might know for sure that he isn’t a murderer but that isn’t to say he won’t kill my career.
He wouldn’t do that, would he? Oh, like I’d know, I just met the guy. Being a good dancer or a seriously skilled snogger don’t mean he’s a decent bloke, do they? I’ve no reason to think he isn’t though, and we have had this absolute dream of a whirlwind romance over the course of the evening, so I have every reason to be optimistic.
Honestly, I’ve never felt such strong butterflies in my life. I can’t feel them right now, probably because I’m too nervous, or because they’re pissed and passed out from all the Prosecco I’ve put away tonight.
I’m nervous, but I’m excited. It’s a good feeling. A good feeling for a free, single, strong, independent, blah blah blah. I need to just get on with it. I know exactly what I’m doing. I think.
The last year or so has been seriously crappy but, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that we should all live in the moment, have fun, take chances – ideas I hadn’t previously subscribed to, I’ve never really been an easy-going person, but that’s why I need to force myself out of my comfort zone tonight. I’ve never felt such an instant connection with someone, I can’t let that go to waste.
Do you know what? I’m not going to worry about it. Not right now. I’m not going to overthink it – not anymore, at least. I’m not going to let the old me get in my head and, if there are consequences off the back of my night of passion with a fellow employee, well, that’s a problem for future me to worry about.
Tonight I’m just going to have fun. I’ll worry about tomorrow in the morning.