Page 170 of Falling for You
‘So, you can be honest with me. How much are you hoping that tonight is this Bat Girl that you keep talking about?’
‘I do not keep talking about her,’ I mutter into my pint.
‘You do in your sleep.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Our walls are thin.’
‘You’re telling me!’ I guffaw and Stevie gives me a wicked grin.
I take a swig of beer. ‘It isn’t her. I’d recognise her from the pictures.’
Stevie huffs at me. ‘Wasn’t she wearing a mask?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘Anyway,’ he waves his hand at me, ‘so what if it isn’t her? Jane might be really nice.’
‘I’m sure she will be.’
Stevie rolls his eyes at me. ‘God, you’re impossible. Oh! There’s Jason.’
I peer round and spot a burly, long-haired man in a T-shirt, looking around the bar. Stevie walks over, leaving me with my beer.
I pick up my phone and check my messages. Jane and Ihad been messaging to arrange meeting here, so I’m hoping she’ll text me when she arrives. With any luck, she may be pleasantly surprised by how I look in real life versus that terrible photo of me that Brian took in the office. If she arrives at all, that is.
Or she arrives, sees me, and then leaves.
God, what am I even doing here? Why did I let Stevie talk me into this? Why—
‘Nate?’
I look up from my phone and spot Jane. I recognise her immediately from her photo. She has bright eyes, curly hair and a big, toothy smile. She looks lovely, but she’s not Bat Girl.
‘Hey,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘Jane?’
Do I hug her? Or is that weird? Shake her hand? Wave? No, hug. I should hug. It would be rude not to hug. Just hug her, for God’s sake.
She nods, the opportunity for me to hug her naturally sailing past us.
I’m glad Stevie wasn’t here to witness that.
‘Would you like a drink?’ I ask, moving towards the bar. Jane nods and follows.
‘I appreciate you coming,’ I say. ‘It’s a bit of a weird one, isn’t it? Meeting like this.’
I feel a light spasm of alarm as the thought dawns on me. Why is she here when the advert clearly said I was looking for someone, and she knows it’s not her?
I flag down the bartender and order a beer, and then let Jane order herself a glass of white wine.
Maybe she met someone at the party like I did but was too drunk to remember.
‘So,’ I turn to her, ‘did you enjoy the party?’
‘What party?’
I keep the smile on my face. ‘The Halloween party? The masquerade ball?’
