Page 85 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
The rep pointed to a table by the window where Jim twizzled his glass of wine as he looked out of the window.
Kate made her way over.
“Jim,” she said, smiling and holding out her hand.
“Kate.” He smiled and stood and shook her hand, and then he hesitated for a moment and leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks.
“When in France,” he said. And then, “Oh God, that was awful.” He laughed. “It sounded much smoother in my head. I never know how we’re meant to greet each other.”
Kate laughed too.
“Neither do I,” she said. “It’s so awkward, isn’t it? Is a handshake too dismissive? Or is a kiss on the cheek too familiar?”
“And if you go for the cheek kiss,” said Jim, “do you go for one cheek or two? If one of you goes for a two-er and the other for a one, the two-er is going to end up leaning in midair, all puckered up with nowhere to go.”
“They really should design a standard etiquette procedure and have it on the website,” said Kate. “It would save a lot of red faces.”
“From now on I’m going in with a high five,” said Jim. “It’s the safest way.”
“But what if they leave you hanging?” said Kate.
“Oh no!” said Jim covering his face in horror. “Oh, the shame of it!”
•••••
The food was wonderful and Jim made very good company. He was confident and clever, yet self-effacing enough to be endearing and charming.
They started with French onion soup, rich with beef stock and topped with toasted Gruyère croutons. And for the main course, Jim went for the beef bourguignon and Kate had coq au vin.
The conversation flowed easily, too easily. Kate was beginning to wonder if the Lightning Strikes team were getting a bit too good at their jobs. At this rate she could end her Twelve Dates experience with more potential partners than she’d bargained for. With Phil out of the running, Richard was out in front, but Jim was looking like he could be a close second and she still had four more dates to go. Some of her confidence in her budding relationship with Richard had slipped a little after a couple of hours in the company of Jim.
Jim had been divorced for three years and hadn’t had any serious relationships since.
“It’s time I got back out there,” he said. “I like being part of a team of two. I miss that. Does that sound too sappy?”
“Not at all!” said Kate. “I suppose we all want the same thing, or we wouldn’t have signed up.”
“I guess so,” he said. “I don’t know when it happened; I was living the life, out being a lad, drinking and chasing women, and then I woke up one morning and it’s not enough anymore.”
“I think that’s called maturing,” Kate said.
“What about you?” Jim asked.
“Oh, no such epiphany, I’m afraid,” said Kate. “I am a walking cliché ofjust haven’t met the right man yet. Boring, huh?”
“I don’t think you’re boring at all, Kate,” said Jim. He leaned across the table conspiratorially and whispered, “I think you’re quite the dark horse.” He smiled and his eyes glinted something that made Kate’s thighs feel hot.
They talked about London: their favorite restaurants, their favorite places to walk in the city, and their shared love for the South Bank of the Thames, and rather bizarrely, they had both frequented the same karaoke bar in Islington.
“I sing best when I’m horribly drunk,” said Jim.
“Me too,” said Kate. “It’s amazing, the more cocktails I drink, the better singer I think I am.”
“The people who work there must have to sign some sort of confidentiality clause, or there’d be videos of people like us all over the Internet,” said Jim.
Kate covered her face.
“Oh God, can you imagine?” she said.
