‘I think there’s a whole lot more I could learn from you,’ Tyler gave me a small smile and sliced up his lamb. ‘Want to try?’
And before I knew it, there I was eating food from his fork, just like in the movies.
A flourless Valrhona chocolate cake, two cappuccinos and a moonlit stroll through Soho later and the date was over. And I was sort of gutted.
‘I had a great time tonight,’ Tyler said, holding his arm out for a cab. ‘Best date with a children’s writer who broke a guy’s hand with a stiletto I ever had.’
‘Can I ask you something?’ I asked, clutching Tyler’s free hand. Even holding hands felt weird, Mark and I hadn’t been a hand holding couple. He nodded as a cab pulled over to the kerb. ‘Do you date a lot? I’m not going all Fatal Attraction on you, I just haven’t really spoken to many men since I got here so I don’t really know how this works.’
He held the door open for me to climb in and then slipped in beside me before he answered. ‘39th and Lex?’ he said to the driver, then turned to me. ‘I guess, honestly, I date kind of a lot. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in about two years and it’s not for the lack of looking.’
‘OK,’ I said, staring straight ahead. He was being honest, that was good. Wasn’t it?
‘But I don’t date a lot of people at once,’ he went on. ‘And you usually know after one or two dates if it’s going somewhere.’
‘Really?’ I asked, turning towards him. He was even handsome in cab-lit profile. ‘It usually takes me ages to make my mind up about, well, anything.’
‘It sounds to me like you’ve been making some pretty snap decisions lately,’ he said, brushing my hair behind my ear. ‘And I for one am really glad about that.’
‘Maybe that’s another part of the new me,’ I said, not really knowing where to look any more. ‘But then again, I’m a Libran, indecisive, I suppose that will come out in the end …’
Before I could waffle on any more, he cut me off with a soft, gentle kiss. I closed my eyes and let him kiss me in the back of the cab, his right hand firmly holding my cheek, sliding back around my neck and into my hair. I could feel his left hand pressing against my thigh. For my first kiss with another man in ten years, it felt pretty good.
‘So can I see you again?’ Tyler asked as he broke away.
‘Mmm,’ I nodded, trying to control my breathing, I’d forgotten how delicious kisses could be. ‘I would really like that.’
‘How about Sunday evening?’ He still hadn’t moved his hand and my whole back was tingling. ‘Something fun, maybe the movies?’
‘Sounds great,’ I mumbled. Please kiss me again.
‘Fantastic. I’ll call you.’ He combed his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck making me shiver all over.
‘Or I’ll call you? I mean, you can call me or I’ll call you or whatever,’ I’d more or less forgotten the date let alone The Rules.
‘I’ll call you, I promise,’ he said. And then he came back in for a second kiss, complete with tongues and a little bit of touching up. I did think he might have brushed my boob by accident, but I kind of hoped it was accidentally on purpose. The cab pulled up outside the apartment well before I was ready to stop but I knew, despite Jenny’s advice, I should just go in alone. One more kiss (closed mouths, but firm pressure) and I let myself out of the cab. My first date had been a success, at least as far as I was concerned.
‘So, how’d it go?’ Jenny was at the door before I’d even managed to work my key into the lock. She stood in front of me in pyjamas, hair in a towel turban, face mask on and feet in Bliss Softening Socks. ‘Oh my God, look at you, you kissed him!’
I felt myself blush from head to toe.
‘Oh my God, you did!’ she shrieked, jumping up and down. ‘Give me two secs.’
I let myself in and collapsed onto the sofa. It was such a strange feeling! A couple of moments later, Jenny reappeared minus the towel and with a peachy fresh complexion, softening socks still very much in evidence.
‘So, tell me everything,’ she said, bringing over a packet of Oreos and two cans of Diet Coke. ‘All the gory details. Did he pay? Was he amazing? Are you seeing him again?’
‘Um, yes, yes, lovely, and yes, Sunday!’ I said, staring ahead, slightly dazed still. ‘It was really nice, we just talked for ages and ate and then wandered through Soho for a little bit and then got a cab. And he asked me to go to the cinema on Sunday night, he’s going to call me.’
‘Wow,’ Jenny said, curling up and splitting her cookie in half to lick out the centre. ‘Sounds like the perfect first date. I’m so jealous.’
‘It was really nice,’ I admitted. ‘It still feels weird though. I just feel all, I don’t know, light and fluffy and like I want to scrunch myself all up into a ball and then explode or something.’
‘Well, let me see,’ Jenny went back in for the Oreos, not even bothering to split and lick, ‘you just went on a date with a hot Wall Street banker who arranged another date with you on the spot and you’ve got a date with a hot guy in a band who picked you up at brunch. I’d say not only are you dating but you are dating pretty well. You’re born to this honey!’
I sipped my Coke and shook my head. ‘I’m not going to say it doesn’t feel nice because it does. And I was a bit freaked out about kissing Tyler, but it was lovely actually. Really good.’ I took another sip and then a deep breath. ‘And when I was talking to Alex, I swear, I felt better than I had with Mark in, well, in for ever. I don’t know, it’s probably just a big rebound reaction thing.’
‘Maybe it is,’ Jenny shrugged, ‘but there’s nothing wrong with that. No one’s proposing, dating doesn’t have to be totally serious. Unless Tyler turns out to be a millionaire.’
‘He had a black Amex,’ I said, grabbing her arm.
‘Get the ring!’ she screeched. ‘Get the ring!’
Thankfully by morning, the city had the decency to cool down half a degree so I decided to walk to The Look. I grasped Erin’s directions in one sweaty palm, crossed Park and then made my way up and across to Times Square. The streets slowly became busier and busier, until I was really just being pulled along by the swarm. Even in the high heat of summer, it was heaving. I stared around, taking in the giant billboards, the garish restaurant signs, the rolling news tickers and tried to spot my destination without getting taken out by a Japanese tourist and his huge camera bag. I felt tiny. Everything looked as though the real world had been scanned, had the contrast turned right up and then enlarged by 500 per cent. It made Piccadilly Circus look positively anaemic. After I had crossed the same road about five times, I spotted a steady stream of very thin, very beautiful women dressed head to toe in black, heading into a narrow black glass doorway back where I had come from. The small tasteful sign next to the door? Spencer Media. Ah. Of course.
The building was tucked away in a corner off Broadway, a beautiful art deco building that stretched high into the Manhattan skyline, past the animated billboards and brightly lit ads. As I rode higher and higher in the lift, I passed my weight from foot to foot. Erin had said (my editor!) was called Mary Stein, but I had no idea what she was expecting. I’d printed out my last few diary entries and printed off the Amazon records of some of my books in lieu of a portfolio. Hopefully she wouldn’t just laugh me out of the office.
Mary’s