The Love Resort (43 page)
Authors: Faith Bleasdale
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction
Despite the fact that we did not get off to a particularly auspicious start, he asked for my phone number and I gave him my card. As he put me in a cab and told me he’d call me, I was radiator warm from the inside out.
Freddie, who works for me is also one of my best friends. He says that I only go out with ‘suits’. He would say that I will only go for men who look as if they can pay not only their own rent or mortgage but also take care of mine. He says that I am ‘classist’ as well as ‘walletist’. I only go out with middle-class men and that’s only because I am too common for upper-class men. It can sometimes be hard to understand why I love Freddie so much. When I ask him what personalities he presumes I go for, he replies that I am far too mercenary to care about personality. As long as they had the semblance of one, that would do.
So, Freddie would say that Joe isn’t my type. After all he has an Essex accent, he wasn’t wearing a suit, and he’s creative. I had no idea at that time if he was rich, or even solvent, but I didn’t care. I didn’t analyse my feelings; I was too busy enjoying them.
The day after the party I stormed into work and launched an attack on Freddie because I had a hangover. Hangovers were also part of my life. I was used to them, but I didn’t like them. I also didn’t like the fact that they seemed to get worse as I negotiated the ageing ladder. If they were that bad at twenty-nine I would be unable to get out of bed at forty. In fact, as I held my pounding head that morning, I wondered if I would make it that far.
‘Next time there’s a client party you are bloody well going,’ I shouted. I am not at my discreet best when I’m hungover.
‘Oh dear,’ he replied. ‘Was it pants?’
‘Utterly,’ I stormed.
‘No one interesting there?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Not even the designer chap. What was his name, John or Joe or something?’
‘The designer?’ How the hell did he know?
‘Yeah, I met him once, just thought he might be there.’
‘What and he’s interesting?’ My attack was ruined.
‘Very, but not your type.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s a bit common, darling. Successful, yes, probably got an OK salary, but not posh enough.’
‘Freddie, stop. Anyway I didn’t meet him last night.’
‘Really? I wonder how he got your e-mail address then.’ Freddie laughed.
‘You’ve been checking my e-mails?’ Now I was really angry. My attack had been completely foiled.
‘No, of course not, Dixie told me.’
I scowled at Freddie, and went off to shout at my assistant. Dixie is brilliant. She’s the most efficient person I’ve ever met and she keeps the whole team in check. She also has access to my e-mails because I have been known to forget to check them. She has access to my entire life, and if it weren’t for the fact that she liked gossip then that would be fine. It didn’t matter though, because he had e-mailed me.
He told me he had enjoyed meeting me. He asked if I was quite recovered from my peanut attack and he suggested going out on Friday. I e-mailed him back and said that Friday would be great.
The other thing Freddie would tell you, about me and men, is that I don’t play hard to get, or even a little bit unavailable.
I never have believed in love at first sight. My relationship history would lead any sane person to think that I barely believe in love at all. But of course I do. I’m a Piscean, our whole being is founded on love. It’s just that my past relationships weren’t right, I wasn’t right. But when I met Joe I was.
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