stood in the bay window in the sitting room. I don’t want to sit down as my dress will crease and to be honest, the heels of my shoes are by now murdering my feet. I feel about six feet tall and think I may be in danger of toppling over at any second. However, they do look really good, I stick a foot out and angle it this way and that to admire the shoes.
By seven forty-five he still ha sn’t turned up. He should have arrived fifteen minutes earlier. I start to nibble nervously at my nail and then pull it away from my mouth, quickly remembering the manicure.
Ten minutes later, and I am getting really wound up. I can’t think of anything worse than being stood up right now. I really hate it when people are late, it’s just so inconsiderate and I’m tapping my nails on the windowsill with agitation. At last, I see his car swing into the drive and I breathe a sigh of relief, at least I haven’t been stood up.
As I cl ose the front door behind me James walks around the car to the passenger door and holds it open for me. That’s a new move I think, he never used to do that when we were together, it was every man for himself in those days.
‘Wow, you look amazing,’ he sa ys, as I approach and he leans over to kiss my cheek.
‘Thank you.’ It feels strange being kissed by James again after all this time, sort of an unfamiliar familiar, like putting on a comfy old jumper you had forgotten you had.
He walk s around and gets in beside me and then turns to face me. ‘I’m really sorry I’m late, I got held up on a contract.’
He ha s redeemed himself with the compliment, so I think no more of it. I’m so shallow sometimes I know, selling my soul for some nice words. I just smile and look ahead.
He start s up the car and pulls off the driveway. ‘I’ve booked us a table at a nice little French place. I’ve not been there myself but I’ve heard some very good reports about it so I hope you’re hungry.’
Unfortunately, I’m not one of those women who will order a small salad and pick at it, I really do like my food. I could eat a horse I’m so hungry but I don’t want to mention this as we are going French.
At the restaurant James pull s a chair out for me. Okay, so far I am impressed. Old James never did that. Old James was usually checking his own reflection in the mirror, or on occasion, checking out other women when he thought I couldn’t see him.
We order our food and a bottle of wine appears at our table. The waiter pours a glass for me and I take a sip. It is exceptionally nice wine, so I take a few more sips to steady my nerves. I must say James is looking absolutely impeccable. His skin looks tanned and his blue eyes are sparkling. His dark hair is just as floppy as it’s always been, but in a cute sexy kind of way, and he is wearing a very expensive tailored suit. My eyes latch onto the hand stitching on the lapels, definitely not off the peg, I think to myself. I drag my eyes away and fiddle with the cutlery nervously. I’m not really sure how dinner-with-an-ex etiquette works and I am a bit clueless as to what to talk about so I say the first thing that comes into my head. ‘So, how’s work going?’
‘Oh Stuart and I have started on a new venture. We’re dabbling in property. It’s going quite well so far but we’re looking for some investors at the moment.’ He puts his glass down and twiddles with the stem while he looks down at the table. ‘We’ve been in London a lot, bought a couple of places down there. They’re being remodelled at the moment, so as soon as they are completed we’ll be putting them on the market. Anyway, enough about me, how are you getting on, Lola?’
I blink in surprise. I didn’t actually think we have talked about him that much, and he has always enjoyed talking about himself in the past, so I’m thrown a little. ‘I’m erm, I’m doing good thanks. Busy in the
By seven forty-five he still ha sn’t turned up. He should have arrived fifteen minutes earlier. I start to nibble nervously at my nail and then pull it away from my mouth, quickly remembering the manicure.
Ten minutes later, and I am getting really wound up. I can’t think of anything worse than being stood up right now. I really hate it when people are late, it’s just so inconsiderate and I’m tapping my nails on the windowsill with agitation. At last, I see his car swing into the drive and I breathe a sigh of relief, at least I haven’t been stood up.
As I cl ose the front door behind me James walks around the car to the passenger door and holds it open for me. That’s a new move I think, he never used to do that when we were together, it was every man for himself in those days.
‘Wow, you look amazing,’ he sa ys, as I approach and he leans over to kiss my cheek.
‘Thank you.’ It feels strange being kissed by James again after all this time, sort of an unfamiliar familiar, like putting on a comfy old jumper you had forgotten you had.
He walk s around and gets in beside me and then turns to face me. ‘I’m really sorry I’m late, I got held up on a contract.’
He ha s redeemed himself with the compliment, so I think no more of it. I’m so shallow sometimes I know, selling my soul for some nice words. I just smile and look ahead.
He start s up the car and pulls off the driveway. ‘I’ve booked us a table at a nice little French place. I’ve not been there myself but I’ve heard some very good reports about it so I hope you’re hungry.’
Unfortunately, I’m not one of those women who will order a small salad and pick at it, I really do like my food. I could eat a horse I’m so hungry but I don’t want to mention this as we are going French.
At the restaurant James pull s a chair out for me. Okay, so far I am impressed. Old James never did that. Old James was usually checking his own reflection in the mirror, or on occasion, checking out other women when he thought I couldn’t see him.
We order our food and a bottle of wine appears at our table. The waiter pours a glass for me and I take a sip. It is exceptionally nice wine, so I take a few more sips to steady my nerves. I must say James is looking absolutely impeccable. His skin looks tanned and his blue eyes are sparkling. His dark hair is just as floppy as it’s always been, but in a cute sexy kind of way, and he is wearing a very expensive tailored suit. My eyes latch onto the hand stitching on the lapels, definitely not off the peg, I think to myself. I drag my eyes away and fiddle with the cutlery nervously. I’m not really sure how dinner-with-an-ex etiquette works and I am a bit clueless as to what to talk about so I say the first thing that comes into my head. ‘So, how’s work going?’
‘Oh Stuart and I have started on a new venture. We’re dabbling in property. It’s going quite well so far but we’re looking for some investors at the moment.’ He puts his glass down and twiddles with the stem while he looks down at the table. ‘We’ve been in London a lot, bought a couple of places down there. They’re being remodelled at the moment, so as soon as they are completed we’ll be putting them on the market. Anyway, enough about me, how are you getting on, Lola?’
I blink in surprise. I didn’t actually think we have talked about him that much, and he has always enjoyed talking about himself in the past, so I’m thrown a little. ‘I’m erm, I’m doing good thanks. Busy in the
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