I reckon I could write chick lit. I've never read a trashy book-on-a-beach-turn-your-brain-off kind of 'novel' because, well, I'm testically endowed but I believe I could take a stab at it and make some proper bank.
= = =
Roisín in Avoca, the usual spot. She'll probably be late because she's a silly bitch but I love her, tardiness or not.
I take my usual seat and give a wink to Ramon, the hottie Spanish waiter who gives us extra bread rolls and knowing glances from the kitchen. He's young, maybe 23 or 24, too young for me but after the month I've had I figure there's no harm in a bit of innocent flirting.
After 15 minutes I've nearly finished my sparkling water when Roisín breezes in.
"I'm SO sorry I'm late," she says, kissing me in her best off-hand manner. Mwah. Mwah. "Disaster last night at pilates. Seriously, disaster. Kate never showed up so it was just me and the other two. My arse is in bits!"
"Oh Roisín, you're a fucking disaster girl."
She peruses the menu.
"Is Ramon working? He's SO cute. What I wouldn't do..."
"Oh leave him you bitch, he's so mine."
I wonder if she'll notice the slight sadness in my voice. I've been burned and I know she thinks I'm over it, over him, but I'm not.
"I think I'll have the sea bream and the mustard mash. Fuck it, the diet can wait, it's not every day I get to meet my favourite girl."
Roisín can be such a sweetheart. I begin to cry.
"Oh honey, what's wrong? You can't hide it from me. I know you like the back of my hand."
"It's nothing... I'm just hormonal."
"No, it's so not that. Tell me..."
I tell her everything. How Bryan called over last night, spouting the usual shit about being a free spirit but never wanting to hurt me. About how he ploughed me with Chablis and told me he'd bring me to Paris, or Barcelona, or wherever I wanted.
I tell her how we made love and, as soon as we were done, he put on his jeans and t-shirt and said he had an early start in the morning. Meetings, fucking meetings. Always the meetings in the morning. I tell her how he said he'd call me, and how he did that fingers to his lips thing, mocking a phone call, which I fucking hate.
I tell her how I texted him at 5am, telling him I needed him and that I hoped he was being true about going away. I tell her how, when he didn't respond, I rang his phone and SHE answered.
"Oh my darling, you need to lose that loser. You really do. We'll plan a girly weekend, how does New York sound?"
"Yeah, baby, I'll get on to Maddy and we'll so sort it for next week! We need to get you out of here. We need an adventure. We need New York."
Ramon comes over with our food, and he notices my smile.
"You look very pretty today, Miss."
"Oh Ramon, stop, you're making me blush."
= = =
It's going to be, like, such a fucking page-turner.