Pulling Power #9

OK - Here's some of the worst ones.....




keep your lines coming to pulling power at singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Chapter Twenty Eight - Toblerones & Carousels

Relationship Rehab – week 5

This week has been a crash course on the male ego – with the emphasis on the word ‘crash’! It’s an unpleasant experience, publicising the car crash of your life, but it’s considerably worse when men add to your dilemma! It’s all been a little like the carousel at the fair, the colours blur into primary stripes as it spins, but change to faded, tarnished, tired paint jobs as it grinds to a halt. In terms of my relationship rehab, I’m now only marginally more disillusioned than I was six weeks ago. It sounds like a girls dream to receive flowers from secret admirers on a daily basis and to have to struggle over the dilemma of whether one date constitutes a break in my promise to remain single. But that was the week that was. As I’m sure anybody who reads one of the red-tops knows – I went on a date with the gorgeous Paul Ashkuri, but spent the rest of the week wondering why he hasn’t contacted me again and even whether he was genuine or not. It has been a truly ‘Toblerone week’ – the highs tasting great and the lows kind of hard to out from between your teeth! I was meant to test out a singles quiz night – but just couldn’t bring myself to enter that social cess pit. But I’m recovering slowly and will be out and about next week with a new update on how promising to stay single is really enhancing my life!!!?

Oh, and I’ve been asked to do a photo shoot and interview for Geezer magazine – so keep an eye out for that too.

Sophie x

*

The weekend really was horrendous and it’s knocked my self esteem hugely. Rob had called around in the afternoon on Saturday, whilst I was still prancing about in my pyjamas, trying to decide what to wear. He said he’d called in to check that the paint job was OK, which I thought was strange, but I was grateful for somebody to help me decide what to wear. He was great – listening to me fluff about, watching me try on numerous outfits in succession and he really helped me feel better about my concerns over Paul Ashkuri. I have to admit, and I don’t mean it in a big headed way, but I had been suspicious about his intentions and Rob helped me to see that someone like Ashkuri really didn’t need to be seen with someone like me. We’d laughed that I was an intensely small ripple in a huge media pond. Rob listened as I ranted about not trusting men’s motives lately and how guys who I’d once not noticed were sending me emails and flowers! Trevor Malone from Geezer has sent me flowers four times in the last week, which is nice but now becoming tiresome, especially as I hadn't even met the guy this time last week – and as for the remarks and invitations on my website? This is all a bit full-on and we’d made loads of jokes about it. He’s such easy company, but I noticed that he changed his tone and went kind of weird when I emerged wearing my new Coast dress. He made a quick exit and disappeared, mumbling something about needing to get back to work.

A couple of hours later Paul texted to say that he was outside, and I asked him in - determined to keep him waiting for a few minutes. He came in and waited patiently on my sofa, whilst I disappeared to the bedroom and pretended to finish getting ready. In reality I was sitting on the edge of my bed nervously trying not to pick my French manicure off – but he didn’t need to know that! He was the perfect gentlemen – telling me I looked gorgeous and helping me with my coat. I felt a million dollars and my thighs are still bruised from where I’d had to continually keep pinching myself. So we left the house and walked straight into an overwhelming firework display. Camera flashes were going off all over the place and I was totally blinded. I knew that I was pulling one of those open–mouthed-gasping-for-air faces that you make after too long under water, but I was completely disorientated. I waited for Paul to clutch my arm tightly and guide me toward his waiting car, in the way that Rob had done the other week when I was afraid that the photographers were waiting. But he didn’t. Far from it. Paul Ashkuri shook my arm from his as if it were on fire and pushed me sideways away from him. I stumbled toward his car, estranged shouts of ‘Miss Regan!’ and ‘so how does this mean that you’re staying single, Sophie?’ ringing through my ears. By the time I fell into the passenger seat of his car I felt as though I’d done five rounds with Tyson.

The evening was strained after that. I found it hard to believe his flimsy claims that he was always on edge when he travelled without a bodyguard and that he’d had some serious run-ins with paparazzi before. My food was sticking in my throat as I couldn’t help but think that Rob would never have treated me like that. And also the come down that as much as I was being spoiled with male attention, someone like Paul Ashkuri seemed embarrassed to be with me – or was it that he was pretending to be embarrassed. Nothing is what it seems anymore.

*

Ade was depressed. He’d gone ahead at the weekend and had booked a limo and top table at the restaurant for next week, but still hadn’t mustered the nerve to ask Sophie to go with him. It had cost him the best part of £300 and he felt sick at the thoughts that she might say no. It wasn’t helping that Trevor Malone insisted on sending her bouquets every couple of days, and when Ade had seen the photos of Sophie and celebrity Paul Ashkuri in all of the national newspapers and magazines he realised that he wasn’t the only guy after her. He’d heard the guys down the pub making jokes about how they’d soon sort her out and make her decide not to stay single. He was already desperately regretting his bet with Trevor. He hated his Ade Gets Laid persona now and really felt it was time to grow up and meet that special lady. It tormented him, the way that he liked Sophie. He constantly tried to ignore the fact that she’d gotten under his skin, but it was difficult to. A ‘new message’ alert flashed on his computer. It was from Trevor. Ade’s stomach flipped with anger and he surprised himself at how annoyed he felt on reading how Trevor had emailed Sophie Regan, asking her to do a photo shoot and interview for Geezer magazine….

Now what?

*

Tamsin hadn’t got out of bed for 4 days. Her weekend away with Pete had gone disastrously wrong and she couldn’t pull herself together. She’d intended to put him on the spot about his marital situation but she hadn’t got the chance to. They’d had some mind-blowing sex again – she loved the way he ripped at her clothes and growled a little when he got his hands on her. It turned her on immensely and she really couldn’t get enough of him. They’d spent hours exploring and then re-exploring each others bodies until they’d both lain, wet and exhausted beside each other in the early hours. She’d been afraid to breathe for fear of breaking the stillness and the intimate moment but after a couple of minutes Pete had reached down and pulled his mobile phone from the floor. She detested that. Every time, without fail, that she made love to Peter, he had to check his phone afterwards. It was as if he was checking in – and it made her feel ill. She was beginning to feel that she only ever really had every last cell, every last fragment of Pete during their love making, as afterwards he always had to check his phone. And this time, it was worse than ever. She had lay beside him, deliberately not making eye contact, but aware that he’d jerked into a seated position whilst pressing the buttons on his mobile.

“What is it?” she’d asked, her voice light and still slightly panting,

“Nothing!”

“Oh.” Her voice hung in the warm air and she felt cold and empty as he hopped from the bed, and paced into the bathroom to make a call.

She could hear his voice, the concern and tenderness that she was so used to, and it was sickening listening to him talk to somebody else that same way too. When he emerged a few minutes later his face was white and his glorious body already seemed as if it no longer belonged to her.

“It’s my wife,” he’d said in low tones, “she’s had a fall. She’s been rushed to hospital. I have to go Tamsin. I have to get home.” And then he’d stopped, the realisation of what he was about to say suddenly hitting him. “She’s pregnant, Tam.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Seven - Six 'o' Clock Rock & Flies On The Wall

6pm on a Saturday evening is one of those in-between times. It’s no longer day and yet it’s not quite evening. It’s a kind of twilight zone between the two, and I’m utilising my time to its full potential.

I’ve exfoliated and fake tanned, I’ve varnished my nails and straightened my hair, pencilled my lips and painted my cheeks. And I’ve tried on about 50,000 different outfits and still can’t find one that’s ‘right’ for my date with Paul tonight.

And I’ve only got an hour to decide!

*

As Sophie added to the huge pile of clothes on her bed, discarding them with an irritated ‘Grrrrrr’ as she listened to her Motown collection at top volume she had no concern for what her friends and family were doing at that exact time……

Tamsin and Pete were buried beneath the duvet in a swish hotel room in Brighton, oblivious to his mobile which flashed and buzzed on ‘silent’ in his jeans pocket, which lay crumpled on the floor….

Ade was cracking open a cold can of beer, slouched on his black sofa, his laptop perched on his knees as he Google’d for something that would knock Sophie Regan off of her pretty feet…..

Rob had enjoyed a relaxing day and was standing in his kitchen, throwing together a seafood stir-fry and looking forward to a relaxing evening and a chance to catch up on the pile of DVD’s that stood like a stalagmite beside his television.

Trevor was stressed. His car had failed its MOT this afternoon and he was aggravated and flicking through the telephone book to find a decent mechanic to get his car through for a decent price…..

Jennifer was ready to go out into Dublin for the night. She was overly made-up and her clothes were far more New York than Dundalk – but that was Jen all over. Checking her watch she leaned forward to greet the fat line of white powder that she’d neatly chopped into place on her kitchen worktop. It was going to be another great night…..

None of them were aware of the small cluster of photographers that were gathering on the street outside of Sophie’s home…

Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Six - Things That Go Buzz In The Night

I can’t sleep tonight. I’m all churned up and anxious. I can’t get Paul Ashkuri out of my head and feel confused and suspicious about Trevor Malone too. He’d appeared from nowhere – both in my life and at The Dorchester and I’m puzzled at his sudden interest. Geezer magazine isn’t a great read – full of male ego and topless ‘babes’ – hardly the intelligent read of the year! My bed is warm and crumpled, uncomfortable now after being in it for the last 2 hours. I fling the covers back and stand up, grabbing the duvet and turning it – so that the hot side is now out side, and slide back between the sheets. I wish I could turn my head off. And just as I begin to relax, my phone bleeps. It’s Paul Ashkuri! Telling me how hot and horny he’s feeling!

HEY GORGEOUSSSS – IN BED AT DORCH FEELNG HOT N HORNY THINKNG OF U. XX

And how am I supposed to sleep after that! It makes me realise how I miss a man’s body in bed beside me, someone to snuggle up to, someone to touch their bare skin, their warmth and that great feminine feeling of sexual power. I lay there for a while, my eyes closed, remembering how great it had been for a while between Ben and I, and how he’d really been the one that had switched me on in bed. Before I know it I’m getting all hot and sweaty, until I can’t wait any longer before opening the drawer of my bedside cabinet and pulling out my newest buzzing buddy, thinking of how Ben used to gently pull my hair as he kissed me, soft and hard. It’s been way, way too long….

*

I must have fallen asleep mid flow! I wake up to hear a slow and intermittent buzz, convinced that a bee has flown into my bedroom and is tired and stuck somewhere. Something shakes on the top of my thigh and I leap from my bed and shriek. Then I see my Rampant Rabbit flailing, like a fish that’s been out of water too long, on my bare sheets. It’s on its last legs battery-wise and is barely limping along on last reserves. I grab it and switch it off, discarding it to the floor. It’s 4.15am and I have no chance of getting back to sleep now. Desperate to try, I get back into bed, staring at the insides of my eyelids as I worry how large the black bags will be beneath my eyes, just ready for my date with Paul Ashkuri later today! Typical! I must try and get some more sleep…

*

Thankfully I managed to get another few hours in, but one of the first things I’ve had to do this morning is talk to Tamsin. I ring her repeatedly as I curl up on my sofa, the cool leather sticking to my bare legs as I hold a cereal bowl to my face and spoon in huge mounds of Frosties and milk. Tam isn’t picking up; she’s obviously ‘busy’ with Pete. I can catch up with her later, but in the meantime I have to talk to somebody. I call Jennifer, against my better judgement.

“Hi Jen.”
“What the hell are you doing? Calling before 10 on a Saturday morning? Don’t you know I have yoga in half an hour and then I’m busy at the beauty salon all afternoon?”

“Sorry. Listen, I just need to run something by you.”

“OK, but make it quick. Or call me back on my mobile.”

“No,” I realise I’ve made a mistake even thinking that she’ll have anything positive to add to my confusion. “It’s alright, I’ll call you later.”

“Just tell me now, Sophie. What’s wrong?”

I steam in, “Well you know my deal about staying single?”

“Yes. Absolutely fucking ridiculous, but go on.”

“Well, what is single? If I go on a date have I broken my promise to stay single? Or do I only break it if I sleep with him? Or do I not even break it then? Not until I continue to see him as a ‘boyfriend’ on a regular basis?” I hear her huffing at the other end, “The bottom line is Jen, at what point in a relationship are you single and what point not!”

“This whole thing is insane. What are you trying to prove? Just go and get your brains banged out girl. Stop taking everything so seriously.”

There’s a moments pause before she adds, “Anyway – who is it?”

“Paul Ashkuri.”

“Fuck off!”

I can’t keep the smile from my voice, “Paul Ashkuri! Honest!”

“As in Paul Ashkuri and Keira Knightley?”

“Yep. Him.”

“Fuck off! You! How?”

“I interviewed him yesterday and he asked me to join him for dinner tonight.”

“Jesus, Sophie! You gotta go for that! Don’t even hesitate. Fuck the promise or whatever it is!”

“But don’t you think it’s all a bit weird? I mean, I’m not stupid Jen. I make this public ‘promise’ and all of a sudden I have the likes of movie stars asking me out! I’m not daft!”

“Who gives a shit, Soph. Go with it. Go with him. Make him fall in love with you.”

I should have realised she’d react this way. She’s so shallow – it wouldn’t matter about a guy’s personality or hygiene or integrity. As long as he was loaded – that’s all that my sister wants. To marry a bank account.

*

Rob was having a lay-in. He was sick of being up early 7 days a week, spending his life under car bonnets and oiled up to the neck. Tamsin had called in quickly last night to drop in the DVD of Sophie on the chat show. She’d kissed him on the cheek as she’d ran out the front door and he’d gone to the window, noticing Pete sitting in the driving seat of his Audi TT Coupe, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he waited. They were off for another weekend away and as Rob watched his sister get into the car he wondered what on earth she was doing tangled up in a situation like that.

An hour later he was still in bed and watching the Sophie DVD. He thought she was great; as natural and charming on camera as she was at home, although he preferred the at-home Sophie. He watched as hints of that Sophie, the one that had got under his skin with her great laugh and easy conversation as he’d painted her kitchen, shone through on his television screen. As he watched her recounting her horrendous dating stories and explaining why she’d decided to stay single, he thought how unjust it was that she’d been treated so badly. Women like her should be looked after and loved.

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Five - Celebrity Bed Fodder? Me?

Ade couldn’t get Trevor’s words out of his head; ‘bet I get her to go out with me this weekend’. Ade couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t take the chance on Trevor revealing his true identity as Adrian Ford aka Ade Gets Laid. Not only that – he didn’t like the idea of Sophie being used by him. He spent a few minutes skulking by the water cooler before walking back toward Trevor. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but went ahead anyway and sat on the edge of Trevor’s desk,

“Two hundred quid says I get Sophie before you do.”

Trev clapped his hands and laughed before stretching out his large hand and shaking Ade’s,

“Candy from a baby, dude.”

*

I tell you what - The Dorchester was awesome. I’m lying on my sofa in my underwear, the cool breeze buffeting my curtains and washing over my bare skin. I arrived home slightly hot and bothered and my head is spinning! I just can’t believe what happened there this afternoon! Simply getting out of the cab onto Park Lane made me feel great and I willed my legs to remain straight and to not show that my knees were shaking as I breezed through the revolving doors at the entrance. I made my way toward Ashkuri’s suite and sat obediently on one of the seats in a row, checking my watch and reading through my notes, along with another 4 journalists. I had 10 minutes before my interview time and was determined to be prepared. Paul Ashkuri was charm personified. He’d flown in from Miami last night and, according to the journalists that went in, and then out, before me – he’d been tired. It was made a little tougher in the knowledge that AJ would have killed for this interview – I wanted to get answers to questions that no other journo would think of! Prepared to the max, I was on a mission to make the most of my paltry 5 minutes. But I wasn’t expecting the reaction that I’d got!

I had tiptoed into the executive suite – which was bigger than my entire house – and sank immediately knee-deep into the carpet. Ashkuri looked fabulous; the combo of his South London attitude with a Californian tan was knockout. My shaky knees buckled when he’d turned to face me and spoke,

“Babe?”

He was gorgeous in a Jonny Lee Miller kind of way – relaxed and chilled out whilst also being polite and charming. I had quaked and lowered myself into an enormous leather armchair, my note pad resting on my lap. I noticed him check out my legs appreciatively, and by the time his gaze had reached my face it was significantly redder than usual. I had struggled to begin with my questions, but he’d unnerved me by shifting in his chair to face me, leaning forward and smiling as he’d stared at me.

“OK, em, Paul, em Mr Ashkuri,” I hadn’t been able to concentrate! He had been scanning my scarlet face, a mischievous dance in his eyes as he soaked in the entire ‘look’ of me. I forced myself to get started, “right, how do you feel now about your career? Had you anticipated this meteoric rise to stardom?” He’d continued to smile at me. God, at that rate you’d think he’d fancied me or something?

“Mr Ashkuri?”

His accent had been broad and a little rough, but knicker-melting too,

“Call me Paul.”

“Right. OK, so I have the usual notes on your career to date, so how about a few different ones?”

He leaned forward and rubbed my arm,

“Go on,”

“Right,” I know that I kept nervously clearing my throat, “So, in your latest movie Keira Knightley is your leading lady. If you could choose a leading lady in your real life, who would she be? What kind of woman do you go for?”

I sat, pen poised for his answer.

“You.”

I looked up, wondering who he was talking to. He continued to stare at me, smiling.

“Pardon?”

“You!”

“Sorry?”

Then he had reached out and had taken my hand gently. I’d been certain that he could feel it tingling as I could.

“You’re gorgeous. Please. Come out with me tomorrow night.”

“Pardon?” I hadn’t believed what I was hearing.

“Serious. I’ll send a car to collect you at 8.” Then he’d slid the pen from my hand, slipping the notepad from my lap,

“So?” he’d smiled as my heart had banged in my chest, “your address?”

Crazy as it sounds now, I just sat there and blurted my address and telephone number. I wasn’t sure whether I’d felt sick or overwhelmed with lust – but something had been going on – and still was, 2 hours later! Whatever about the 5 minute interview curfew, I had sat in his suite in The Dorchester for over 20 minutes and he’d been fantastic; telling me everything I needed and a whole lot more. Then, as I’d floated out of the hotel, I bumped straight into Geezer magazine’s Trevor.

I think he’d been waiting for me – weird as that sounds. He’d whipped out a deep red rose from behind his back and handed it to me, “How did the Ashkuri interview go? Summer Lawson was great.” And he’d looked to the floor as he’d added, “Not as cute as you, though.”

Which is why, when I finally arrived home, I had to strip off and lay in the cool breeze. I had to lose the confines of the day in order for my head to relax and think, think, think! Trevor Malone handed me his business card with GEEZER emblazoned across the front of it. I still don’t believe it, but he went on to ask me out for dinner tonight! When I told him that I was busy he looked disappointed, pulling out his mobile and asking if I was free tomorrow night. I didn’t tell him that Paul Ashkuri was hoping to take me out tomorrow night –as I still didn’t quite believe it myself. I was already wondering how many more of the female journalists he’d hit on with his disarming interview style and request to add to his address book.

My head is in an excited spin.

And I’m feeling rather sexy right now.

*

Rob raised his hand and wiped his wet face, smearing more oil across his sweating forehead. He wished he worked in one of those garages on the television – the ones like on EastEnders or Coronation Street where they never get dirty and spend a few minutes tinkering under a bonnet when somebody arrives with a more pressing dilemma – working under bonnet of car again. Since starting up on his own he’d been inundated with work and knew he shouldn’t complain, but it was another Friday evening and he was nowhere near finished. He’d enjoyed spending time with Sophie last week and it made him realise how non-existent his social life was. Tam was always moaning at him to take more time off for him, but it was easy for her to say. He was trying to build a business and letting clients down or turning cars away wasn’t the way forward.

Tam mentioned that Sophie had been on the television during the week and he’d been disappointed to miss it, although his sister had recorded the interview. Digging into his overalls pocket for his mobile he unlocked the keypad and texted Tamsin,

TAM ANY CHANCE U CLD DROP SOPHIE DVD IN 2NITE? THX XX

Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Six

Pulling Power #8

The romantics are out.

And love is their drug.

Keep 'em coming guys - send your chat up lines to Pulling Power at singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Do you have any better than this???

Chapter Twenty Four - Does One Date Break My Promise?

It was strange for Ade. His mobile relentlessly bleeped and buzzed with new text messages – and yet it was starting to bore him. His www.myspace.com mail box was loaded with messages from women, accompanied by their pouty photos and cheeky online names. He was confused by his sudden shift in opinion. Whereas once all the female attention was an ego boost and fodder for Ade Gets Laid, it now seemed fake and a little sad and lonely. It was fun, striking up a conversation with a photograph and watching a personality unravel, but always led to sexy banter and innuendo which then culminated in either a quick impersonable lay, or fizzled out as each of them moved on to yet another mugshot. He felt uncomfortable with the Sophie situation. There was something about her that set her aside from his usual Ade Gets Laid women. She had a little something extra about her and he liked it. She didn’t only look great, but he liked her attitude. He’d been reading the Relationship Rehab column and it had made him feel slightly guilty about his dating etiquette, he liked her style. He was jerked back to reality by Trevor, slapping him on the shoulder as he passed his desk.

“Hey mate? You dozing off there?”

“No,” Ade faked a laugh, pondering whether to say something or not. He went ahead, “Actually mate, I need to say something to you.”

“Fire!” Trevor’s cheeks were plumped out as his mouth was stuffed with a Subway Cheese & Pickle roll. Ade noticed fragments of bread spray onto a pile of papers.

“It’s this Sophie Regan thing. I think you’re out of order mate, to be honest.”

“You do?” Trevor continued to talk with his mouth overspilling, “Why?”

“Well, it’s not your patch, is it? The Ade Gets Laid thing? You know that’s why I was targeting her. So why have you stepped in on this one, and none of the others? How are you suddenly so interested?”

Trevor laughed, swallowed his food and took another huge bite before replying, “You’ve fucked up, mate. Big time. The thing is; I’ve been honest with her. Which is more than you have, dude. I mean, she knows I work for Geezer. What did you say? Some Accountancy or Financing magazine?” He laughed, throwing his head back as he gorged on the last of the crusty roll. “What a load of shit, Ade. She’ll never go for you now.”

“OK, but what’s your interest then, mate?”

Trevor looked at him for the first time since the conversation started, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He smiled,

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Ade shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

“The way this Sophie bird is going? The first guy to make her break her ridiculous I’m-gonna-be-single-for-a-year project? He’ll be one of the hottest dudes of the year? I mean,” he snorted, “what kind of sad cow chooses to stay single? I’ll change her. I converted a lesbian once, you know?”

“Fuck off, Trev.”

He grinned, “Serious! I did. She was gagging for a bit of cock after I’d shown her how to use it properly.”

Ade shook his head in disgust. With morons like Trevor Malone in the world, he could understand why decent women like Sophie chose to stay single! He pushed his chair back, needing to get away from him for a while. Trevor called after him, addressing his back,

“Hey! And I’m meeting her this afternoon too.”

Ade refused to turn around, continuing to walk away. Trev shouted,

“We’re both interviewing at the Dorchester! Bet I get her to go out with me this weekend!”

*

I’m confused. I’m trawling through these comments on my site and some of the guys have sent photographs of themselves! Talk about hot! There are some beautiful faces – men and women – on here and their comments are warm and enthusiastic. There are some derogatory and negative comments too – but that’s to be expected I suppose. From the last 50 comments that I’ve read, 22 have asked to take me out on a date, wanting to talk to me about my reasons for staying single and, get this, certain that they can change my mind! So how to sift the dross from the diamonds? The potential here for liars is huge! And would a date mean that I’m breaking my promise to stay single?

It’s 1pm and my cab is due in half an hour. I’m excited about interviewing Paul Ashkuri and have researched his previous movies and have been Googling him for the best part of the week. Hopefully, my research is thorough – and some of my questions will surprise him.

I’m tidying my desk, ready to shutdown my computer when I notice that Delaney has sent me an email.

RE: Singles Nights

Maria Delaney

To: Sophie Regan

Sophie – I’d like you to check out this singletons quiz night in Lambeth next week. I’ve attached the pdf file for you to get info from. It will tie in nicely with your Rel Rehab feature. Also, please check out singles holidays – availability and popularity of. Might have to get you on one of those in a few weeks time! Let me know what you think about the comments to the website too.

Good luck with the Ashkuri interview. Don’t forget to mention how Woman To Woman are at the cutting edge of contemporary woman’s issues.

___________

Maria Delaney

Editor

Woman To Woman

___________

I shutdown and lock my desk. I’ve got about 10 minutes before the cab is due and so I nip into the loos and make sure that I look good for Paul Ashkuri. As I look in the mirror and apply my lipstick I can’t help wondering about those great looking men on the site! Should I reply to them? And then I realise a whole new dilemma. Would dating a guy mean that I’ve broken my promise? Would sleeping with a guy mean that? Or is it OK to have a one night stand? Is the concept of staying single dependent on the intention not to get involved with a guy emotionally?

Now I’m really confused.

Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Five