Page 7 of Love in Focus

My friends know where I lived, but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Not today. As an attempt to distract us all—and because I finally feel ready to talk about it—I launch into the story of what I saw in the printer room. Kiara’s jaw drops, and Val fumes and cusses enough for all three of us, even throwing a few Spanish curse words here and there.

My friends’ indignant reactions are thankfully enoughof a distraction that I only feel a slight twinge when the condo comes into view.

“Thank God you’re not with him anymore,” Kiara says finally. “This breakup was a blessing in disguise.”

“Truly,” Val agrees. “Thank you, next!”

They laugh, and I try my best to smile along with them. I must not be successful at hiding my pain, though, because Val pats me on the back as we join the line of young professionals that’s already begun to form in front of our first destination, a bar called Rousseau’s.

Rousseau’s has been recommended by our “Places to Go for Seasonal Drinks” roundup in our lifestyle section for several years now. I’m not a big seasonal drinks person, so Shane usually covers them, but I’m still impressed by how there’s already a line out the door at not even five thirty p.m. Their drinks must bereallygood.

When it’s our turn to go in, Val holds the door open for Kiara and me.

As far as appearances go, Rousseau’s is a standard, no-frills place, resembling more of a pub with its brick wall and dark wood bar top. When we were still together, James usually preferred to go to more bougie establishments with high ceilings and fancy backlit drink displays, so I’m relieved this isn’t the kind of bar we’d see him in.

“Apparently their seasonal drinks are the best in the city, so I figured this would be a good place to start,” I say as we follow the hostess to one of the high tables in the middle of the room.

“Yay!” Kiara exclaims. She claps her hands, and Val pumps her fists with excitement.

I order a plain espresso martini, while Kiara gets spiced apple fizz and Val orders her pumpkin spice cocktail. After we get our drinks, I look around. In this crowded, noisy space, it finally hits me. This is my first time at a bar as a single woman inseven years. I fidget in my seat, feeling a bit awkward. Hopefully it’s not too obvious.

I look around. All the women around us are gathered in groups or pairs, like we are. And the last thing I want to do is barge in on a date or a friend gathering. I glance at the bar to see if there are any loners and spot a man who is an absolute giant. He has to be at least six foot five. As far as I can tell, he’s sitting by himself at the bar as he sips on his old-fashioned. Since I’m five three and don’t want to constantly look like a hobbit next to him, his height is automatically a deal-breaker for me for anything serious.

But he’s good-looking enough for me to consider something casual.

“Do you see someone you like?” Kiara asks, her voice hushed with excitement.

“Yup.” I down my drink and immediately regret it when I feel the burn of the alcohol going down my throat. With a wince, I say, “Wish me luck.”

“Godspeed,” Val replies, making Kiara and me laugh.

Before I lose my resolve, I let out a quiet breath and head toward the giant.

“Hi,” I say, extending a hand. “I’m Gemma. Pleasure to meet you.”

The man raises his eyebrows, and it only then occurs to me that my greeting may have been too professional for a casual bar setting. I could not have made it any more obvious that this is my first night out as a single woman sincecollege.

Fortunately, the man eventually says, “Hey.” He takes my hand, which looks ridiculously tiny in his, and gently shakes it. “Ian. Nice to meet you.”

For a split second, I’m afraid he’s going to just go back to his drink, but Ian slowly scoots over to make room for me. He looks miserably cramped. This place wasn’t designed for a person his size.

I sit down on the stool next to him.

“How are you?” I ask, jumping right into it. I hate small talk, but I hate awkward silences even more. “Do you work around here? How was your day?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a shrug. “I work in finance, so, nothing too exciting. But my day’s much better now that you’re here with me.”

He says the last part with a cheeky grin. After seven years of being in a relationship with the same person, a pickup line from a stranger is jarring. Laughable, even. But it isn’t entirely unpleasant.

I give Ian my best coy smile. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m glad. Happy to be here.”

His grin widens, and he gives me total bedroom eyes. Admittedly, it’s really hot.

I could get used to this, I think.

Our night is almost too perfect. Ian and I make each other laugh. We talk about everything from cute dogsto world events. Best of all, he keeps the drinks flowing, consistently asking the bartender for refills whenever our glasses are almost empty.

Could it be this easy?I find myself thinking in my tipsy stupor.Could I have struck gold on my first night out?After my rough foray into dating apps the previous night, I want to weep with joy.

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