Page 11 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

But I guess you’re all wondering why I didn’t simply tell Carlos the teeniest-tiniest of white lies about last night and make out I’d had the best time?

I think it’s because he and Oz have been so good to me and … maybe, because I really would like to meet someone not already coupled-up to hang out with at the weekend.

Honestly, it’s nothing more than that. I mean, sure, my heart gives a little swoon whenever I catch the soft, quiet, lingering looks Carlos and Ozzie-Baby give each other but I can appreciate that and still not want that.

Or need that.

At least not until my mother and my cousin’s wedding got inside my head.

‘I really thought last night’s guy would be Mr. Right,’ Carlos says, with a sad shake of his head.

‘Oh, he was,’ I confirm. ‘All. The. Time. Because who wants a little healthy conversation and debate when you can add “When I’m right, I’m right. Right?” to the end of every sentence?’

Carlos winces. ‘And that killed any chemistry you felt?’

‘What can I tell you – other than it made me wish I hadn’t been as harsh about the first guy you set me up with?’

‘Such drama over a little bony ankle reveal.’ Carlos tuts, remembering.

I shudder. ‘Little? Practically poked me in both eyes, it was so big’—I hold my arms as far apart as I can—‘I mean, we’re talking at least four inches…’

‘Hey,’ Oz chimes in. ‘No talking about boners in front of the pastries. Or the customers,’ he adds as an afterthought.

‘Bony not boner,’ I reply, grinning. ‘As in his ankles.’ I shudder again. ‘Jeans that ended at the calf and brogues with tassels. Brogues with tassels worn in the pouring rain. The sound of squelching does not a romantic walk in Central Park make,’ I add.

Everyone has a pet peeve, right? It doesn’t mean you’re not serious about finding someone. It just means it’s going to take you longer to find them.

Although, hopefully not a year, I suddenly think.

‘You have to stop being so fussy,’ Carlos states gently.

Or I could simply put a stop to this and worry about Tina’s wedding in a whole three-hundred-and-sixty-five-day year from now.

I consider why I didn’t stop Carlos when he came up with the idea in the first place but the fact is that as hard as it is to date here in the city, it’s even harder to make new friends. Seriously. Everyone single is laser-focused on their quest to meet The One. So, if like me, you suddenly find yourself alone in the big, bustling city because your best friend (also single), has somewhere else she’s needed … well, crazy as it sounds, it’s easier to find a date-date than a play date.

And after yesterday’s conversation with my mother and yes, the aspirational photo from Apartment 33C, I’m thinking I might be ready to put some proper effort in.

‘How about I try to stop being so fussy?’ I ask.

‘That’s more realistic, I guess. Let’s see who I’ve been keeping in my back pocket, shall we?’ Sure enough, Carlos is standing up to take his phone out of the back pocket of his appropriate-length jeans.

He slides the phone towards me, a big grin on his face.

I look down dutifully. ‘Um … he’s kind of … canine?’

‘Huh?’ Carlos pulls the phone back towards him and then gets the sappiest look on his face. ‘Oops, sorry, that’s the cockapoo we’re thinking of adopting.’

‘Seriously?’ I snatch the phone back out of his hands and stare down at the cutest companion you could wish for. ‘Oh my god, he’s adorable.’ I’m smitten and immediately feel a big fat loosening in my heart because imagine having that butter-wouldn’t-melt face staring up at you when you got in from work… Imagine all those sunny walks in the park… Imagine it snuggling into the crook of your arm as you doze in front of the TV after a hard day’s work…

Imagine it shooting out into the middle of the road…

At the instant wave of nausea, I’m tightening every muscle in my body to shut it down. Absolutely nothing awful is going to happen to a dog I don’t even have. I tell myself this another couple of times as with my free hand I start straightening up the sugar dispenser with the creamer jug to perfectly align them in the centre of the table.

Oblivious to my internal catastrophizing, Carlos reaches over and scrolls through a couple more photos. ‘This was the next guy we were thinking of for you.’

I’ve moved on to gathering up non-existent granules of sugar before I remember the lease on my apartment doesn’t allow for pets anyway so I’m already feeling better when I glance down at the photo of a guy in a suit.

Hmm. I’m not swiping left or grasping for excuses at all.

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