Page 77 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘Well. Thank you, Reyes.’ He nods at her. ‘That’s most useful. I’ll be sure to tune in. I trust all is well otherwise?’

‘Yes, Mister Gardiner. We are finishing very soon.’

‘Good. Safe journey home, both of you.’ He looks directly at me.

‘Thanks, Aaron.’ I force a smile, still avoiding full eye contact. ‘See you tomorrow.’

He turns and sweeps out the door into the main hotel.

‘As Amir say: you are welcome,’ Reyes announces proudly as soon as he’s gone.

‘Are you being serious?’ I look at her incredulously. ‘You made the situation twenty times worse. Naked dating? Really? He obviously heard the end of our conversation, which means he knows about me and Josh. I just so hope he didn’t overhear what I said abouthim.’

A short while later, I’m sitting on my couch, half-watching some late-night TV, eating some toast before bed. I’m beyond exhausted, but my mind is still wired with nervous energy, mainly from the irrational loop of worry that’s locked on repeat in my mind.

Did Aaron hear what I said about him? It was only a bit of fun. But out of context my words would have sounded so cruel and bitchy. He’s someone I have so much respect for, to whom I owe so much. I can’t stand the thought that he could have overheard, and been hurt by my carelessness. But am I overthinking this? He can be quite cutting in his own way. Would he even care? He may have been an important person at a previous point in my life (and has unexpectedly become so again), but I’m probably not that significant in his. He’s only ever been my boss – just a really good boss, who didn’t want to see me go under and have to drop out of uni. Surely people like him deal with much worse than a bit of harmless gossiping behind closed doors.

Amir’s words about me being oversensitive because of my hangover come floating back to me, and I realise that I need something other than crap TV to distract me. I pick up my laptop and log onto my blog site admin page, where I can see that there’s been some further comments on my recent post. And that GrahamLeeton has eventually replied and answered my question. I immediately click into his response.

GrahamLeeton:The easy and slightly creepy response would have been ‘who would you like me to be?’ But as you were so honest before, you deserve better than that. Who am I? I’m a man (you probably guessed that bit already), a man who makes the most of life, who works hard, who cares about other people, and what’s going on in the world. Who sometimes wishes he were a superhero, so he could right all the wrongs… and I’ve just realised how boring that sounds. Can we go back to what I do? ;)

I smile as I read his words, then type out a response.

MissGinFizz:Definitely not boring. That’s amazing. So few of my conversations these days involve real stuff. And it matters. To care. To want to change things, but to feel so powerless to do so. Tell me more…

Sitting back, I glance at my watch. It’s one-thirty in the morning. He’s unlikely to respond tonight. This frustrates me. I want to know more now, not tomorrow. I start to reply to the other comments I’ve received, but I’m distracted and my responses don’t flow. Eventually I realise it’s a fruitless exercise and cast aside my laptop in irritation. I may as well go to bed; hopefully my exhaustion will eventually overwhelm my unsettled mind.

Just as I’m about to log out of my site and shut down my laptop, I receive a notification of a new comment. Filled with anticipation, I click it open. It’s him. My eyes quickly dance across his words.

GrahamLeeton:I will. For some reason, I have an instinct that you will understand me – in a way that many others haven’t. But first, tell me who you are, MissGinFizz. It’s your turn.

As I drink in his words, my stomach fizzes excitedly. He’s reeled me in so fast, it’s scary. I know I should be careful and have my wits about me, but I sense that this man is not a threat. However, my own instincts have let me down before – most notably at McArthur Cohen with my so-called friends there. I decide I won’t give away any personal details or hints that could betray my true identity. So, there will be no real risk. Just a bit of harmless – and inspiring, intriguing, intelligent – conversation.

Taking time to protect my anonymity, but trying to appear suitably open and interesting, I tap out my response.

MissGinFizz:OK… I’m a woman (touché) – a woman with dogged ambition, who only recently realised that play is just as important for success as work. Who’s realised there’s a lot more to life than money and living the high life. Who may have drunk too much last night, and who may have spent the whole day endlessly regretting it…

I read my words back as I wait, hoping he’s not disappeared again. He hasn’t.

GrahamLeeton:Thank you, MissGinFizz. I suspect we have a lot in common. I also wonder if you would like to take this conversation somewhere less public? And before you think I’m some crazed cyber-criminal, I’m not looking for any of your personal details. I will never ask you for them. I’d just like to chat. Do you have a chat app on your blog site? That is, if you’re not desperate to get to bed – you did mention having a hangover after all…

As I read his reply, I don’t feel threatened or uneasy, not even for a moment. I want to chat to him. And I’m too buzzed to sleep anyway. I’ve soared past exhausted and crash-landed in a state of burning adrenaline-fueled wakefulness. I send him a reply, asking if he knows how I can add a chat app, and he immediately comes to my assistance.

Once I have it installed on my laptop and my phone, we resume our conversation, which now flows much more easily with the enhanced functionality of instant messaging. I cast aside my phone and restart the conversation.

MissGinFizz:So, you said you’d tell me more once I’d shared a little myself…

GrahamLeeton:What do you want to know?

I pause, my fingers hovering over the keys of my laptop. That’s a good question. What do I want to know? I can’t ask him where he’s from, or anything personal; that’s already been ruled out. He’s also already taken the career conversation off the table. He’s a shrewd operator! I now have little choice but to engage at a deeper level. All obvious topics of conversation have been eliminated. I look back at his last post on my blog page, trying to follow through from the original thread of conversation.

MissGinFizz:You mentioned wanting to be a superhero, so you could right all the wrongs of the world. Which superhero would you like to be? :)

GrahamLeeton:I’d be… Equilibriman.

MissGinFizz:Right… don’t think I know him. I don’t really follow the world of comics and superheroes.

GrahamLeeton:Neither do I. Just made him up. :) Can you guess what my superpower is?

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