Star Fish by Nicola May Read Free Book Online Page A

then I was on to a winner here. I had actually forgotten to bring his photo with me, but was so hoping that Declan was going to be ‘Mr Right’ that I had his smile imprinted on my brain.
    Nervously I sat down in the bar area and ordered a gin and tonic. Surely dating agency bods didn’t stand each other up. Weren’t they all so desperate to find a mate that no opportunity, however small, must be missed?
    Just then an assortment of people started walking into the bar. There were a few smart couples in black tie. There was one, particularly ‘beautiful’ couple, hand luggage in tow and I imagined that they were flying off for a long weekend to somewhere exotic.
    In true Piscean fashion I started to daydream of being whisked away somewhere wonderful. Another fifteen minutes passed by and no Declan. I decided that I would have another drink and then, if he hadn’t turned up when I‘d finished that, I would leave.
    I was beginning to feel a bit embarrassed sitting in the hotel lobby alone, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Oh my God, what if people thought I was a prostitute?
    ‘Large rum and Coke please.’ I mouthed to the waiter. Why did the word ‘large’ always come out when I was nervous?
    Bloody Geminis, never reliable, I thought to myself.
    James Crook was a Gemini as well. I should have left ‘the twins’ out of the equation, simply on the strength of my ex-boyfriend’s unreliability. However, I realised that I couldn’t tar everyone with the same brush, as that would ruin my chance with a whole twelfth of the zodiac signs – and I was sure this would equate to millions of prospective husbands.
    I always had a terrible inability to stick to the same alcoholic beverage. Anna said it was because I had a ‘butterfly mind’ and that was why I flitted here, there and everywhere without settling on anything or anyone. I always tried so hard to be consistent, but being consistent at being inconsistent was another forte of mine!
    Why, oh, why, did I carry on mixing my drinks, instead of drinking just mixers? Through a haze of gin and rum, I felt somebody approaching. I looked up and oh my God I could almost hear the church bells ringing as he walked over to me.
    He was tall, oh yes, and he was dark, plus he had the most amazing piercing blue eyes I had seen for quite some time. I doubted if Cordelia had needed to touch his photo up one bit. He was gorgeous, with a big, fat capital G!
    ‘Hello, and what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a bar like this on your own?’ The Irish lilt serenaded.
    I liked this; I played up to his part. ‘Waiting for a gorgeous man like you to join me, obviously.’
    I laughed flirtatiously. This was more like it. My heart was pounding already. Thank you, Christopher. Thank you, Cordelia. Thank You, Lord. At last I had met a date who I fancied instantly.
    It hadn’t crossed my mind that he might be Irish but with a name like Declan O’Shea I suppose I should have guessed. Irish accents have always made me quiver with desire. When I visited Dublin with H this got me in all sorts of trouble. People thought I was having some sort of fit every time I walked down Herbert Street.
    ‘What are you drinking?’
    ‘Well, it was rum in here but I actually fancy a whisky and Coke now.’
    ‘Large one?’
    Oh, here I go again. ‘Yes, please.’
    Large drinks, large blue eyes – fantastic! A pianist started to play, and all I could think of was Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca (one of my favourite films). I thought back to the sample profiles; maybe old Ingmar had directed it and I didn’t even know. The godlike creature returned. He was dressed casually and he smelt gorgeous; his shoes passed the test and his face was like that of an angel. I felt no need to sneeze as he could have said, ‘Burn in hell,’ and I’ve have still sat there!
    Desire hit me. I hadn’t slept with anyone for over a year and it was fantastic to feel those sensations again.
    ‘It’s