Page 13 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

In fact, life is better than – waaaah!

My heart travels fully into my mouth as I trip on a tree root that has escaped its cement fortress. Fortunately, despite staggering forward like a pastry-armed missile I manage to avoid a humiliating face-planting.

I take a quick look around me, really hoping I only looked marginally like a complete baby fawn taking its first steps and then look down to give the tree root a reproving glare. That’s when I notice the white feather on the ground.

Without thinking, I bend down, setting the box down beside me so that I’m hands-free to inspect the feather.

‘Hey,’ some giant shouts down at me, her five-inch spike of a heel narrowly avoiding the box of beignets. ‘What the hell? Does this look like a designated picnic area?’

She barely breaks stride as she click-clacks down the street.

My hand closes gently around the white feather, and I tuck it happily into my tote, perfectly preserved.

Chapter Five

LATE … FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE

Ashleigh

‘You’re late.’

I look at my watch, and then at Carlos and Oz and then defend myself with, ‘By one whole minute. Quick. Call the Dating Etiquette Police.’ Then, I can’t help but look at the fourth empty chair at the table at Luigi’s, the cute little retro Italian we frequent and look back at them accusingly. ‘And what a surprise. He isn’t even here, yet.’

‘He will be,’ Carlos says with confidence.

‘You said that last time,’ I accuse, reaching up to give them a quick kiss hello.

Two weeks ago, Mr. Surprised-Smile Guy, surprised us all by not turning up to the double-date Carlos set up.

It’ll be interesting to see what turns out to be worse. The embarrassment I felt during the two hours I sat with Carlos and Oz as Mr. Surprised-Smile Guy left me high and dry in my best little black number and impressively styled hair. Or the cynicism that dogged my every step on the way here that my evening will be a repeat of last time.

Earlier, as I was getting ready, I tried telling myself that worst case scenario, he’ll be another no-show and I’ll eat Oz’s body weight in tiramisu and have a good evening with my friends. But I don’t know … I guess what I am learning about going out on these dates, is the amount of energy it takes up.

The energy it takes to meet new people.

The energy it takes to connect.

To make a good impression.

To be myself – wait – no, to be the best version of myself.

All on top of working long hours and carrying around enough nervous energy to power an entire city.

Is it really worth it just to have someone to hang out with?

I remind myself of the two intervening phone calls my mother has made now she’s discovered I have spare time during my cleaning of Apartment 33C.

‘Relax, he’ll be here,’ Oz says. ‘We have visual confirmation.’

‘Visual confirmation?’

‘You think we’d put you through a no-show again?’

My heart, which I have told strictly not to melt on this date, starts to feel gooey. ‘So – what – you’ve got people stationed across the city cataloguing his every movement?’

‘Three people,’ Oz confirms. ‘Triangulated to this exact location. Texting in when they see him.’ Oz looks down at his phone. ‘Last seen three blocks away. Progress is slow but allegedly he’s looking really sharp. ETA twelve minutes.’

‘Oh my God, you’re serious? You’ve downloaded an app?’ I go up on tiptoes to try and get a look. ‘And why are you speaking like an undercover operative? You’re not in cahoots with my mother, are you?’

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