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Tracey P

xx

 

“, this might seem forward,” Jordan Parker’s date shouted to be heard over the music as she leaned closer, “but I’m interested to know if you masturbate.”

“What?” she shouted back, sure she’d misheard. No one would ask that question fourteen minutes into a first date on New Year’s Eve, would they?

“Masturbating,” he shouted again. “Do you do it? Would you let me watch?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw the bartender jerk his head up and glare at the man in front of her.

So, I didn’t imagine that.

“I think you might have the wrong idea about me.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He grinned at her and took a swig of his beer as a glass of wine magically appeared at her elbow. She glanced up at the bartender, noting the sympathy etched on his features.

“This one’s on me. You’re in for a long night,” he’d raised his voice, but turned his head so only she could hear him. She sighed and took a long sip from the glass.

How the hell do I get rid of this guy?

As if she’d summoned them just by wishing, her three best friends tumbled through the door at exactly that moment. They were a jumble of long legs, glossy hair, perfume, and laughter as they descended on her and surrounded her companion.

“Who’s this?” Shelly asked.

Jordan slipped off her seat before she answered. “No one. I was about to go.” She turned to him before leaving, “Sorry, this isn’t going to work out.” Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed Shelly’s hand and led the group to the other side of the bar where they slipped into an empty booth. It was only nine o’clock—still hours until midnight and the end of this disastrous year.

“Why didn’t you introduce us?” Emily asked.

“You did not want to be introduced to that pig, trust me Miss Pennington! I’m not even going to tell you why—it’s too awful.” Jordan glanced around the room, which was slowly filling up. “If only I’d organised a decent date for tonight.”

“Pfft... you don’t need a date.” Andrea reached out and squeezed her hand, “You have us. We’re going to have a great night, and fuck any man who tries to stand in our way.” The four of them laughed at her choice of words; Andrea was always mixing up sentences, so sometimes you couldn’t even tell if she knew what she meant.

She finished her wine and Andrea went to the bar to buy them all another round. Just as she returned and took her spot next to Jordan, Boyd Ramsay appeared at their table looking pleased with himself. “Nice one, Boyd. You managed to avoid buying a round, as usual.” Jordan couldn’t help but bait him. It was a running joke they shared every time he was brave enough to join their group of friends for drinks.

“Oh Jordan, don’t pick on him so early in the night.” Shelly held out her arms. “Come here, you sexy thang,” she shouted as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair.

“Eww… get a room, you two,” Andrea yelled as they all laughed and jeered at the two lovebirds who were now kissing at the table. Shelly and Boyd had been together for ten months and things appeared to be heating up.

“You ladies are making short work of those drinks tonight,” he indicated their glasses and Jordan was shocked to see she’d almost emptied hers.

That’s three glasses of wine since I arrived. How long have I been here, now?

“In honour of it being New Year’s Eve, along with my urge to shock the crap out of Jordan one more time this year, how about a round on me?” The four women cheered as he waved his wallet in the air. Shelly kissed him hard on the lips and he dragged himself away to head for the bar.

“Oh my God, he’s so sexy. Look at that ass.” Shelly said, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. Boyd turned around and blew her a kiss and she blushed a deep pink at being caught.

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re in love. I guess we won’t have the pleasure of your company all night, now that lover boy has arrived?” Andrea said as she downed the last of her drink and slammed the empty glass on the table. “Luckily the bastard is buying us a drink!”

Boyd returned carrying a tray with multi-coloured cocktails, and Jordan felt her stomach flip-flop.

Uh oh. This will not end well.

“Cheers!” the four women shouted as they clinked glasses and took their first sips of fruit juice laced with alcohol. As Shelly put her glass on the table, Boyd captured her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“There’s something I need to ask you.”

“What’s that? Do you need to borrow money again?”

He rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand. “No, I do not need to borrow money, Shelly. Shut up and listen to me.” He glanced at the three women sitting in the booth and Jordan had a sudden premonition of what was coming next. “We’ve been together all year, and I’ve enjoyed every second I’ve spent with you.”

“Except for that time you threw up for three days after I cooked those sausages,” Shelly laughed, still unaware of the moment she was ruining.

He sighed out an exasperated sound and pulled her face to his when she mugged for the girls. “Would you listen to me? I’m trying to be serious.” She quieted and gave him her full attention. “Now, as I was saying, I love being around you. I love your friends,” he waved his arms toward the booth, “and I even love your cat. So, Shelly Cross, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jordan whispered under her breath as Boyd dropped to his knees in front of her friend.

She saw his lips move as he held up a ring that sparkled in the flashing strobe lights. Some of his words were lost in the beat of the music, but Shelly’s squeal was not. Her smile was the biggest Jordan had ever seen as she nodded and launched herself at Boyd. Their excitement was obvious, and she pulled away and let him place the ring on her finger. As soon as it was on, Shelly turned, searching for Jordan’s eyes in the booth. She held up her hand and mouthed, “Oh my God,” as her new fiancé swept her into his arms. Jordan grinned and gave her the thumbs up as her friend was lifted into the air and spun around.

The girls giggled and chattered, and soon Emily and Andrea were deep in conversation about when the wedding might be and who Shelly would choose to be her bridesmaids. Jordan sat back and listened to them as they named their perfect wedding venues. She checked the time on her phone and watched Shelly dancing with Boyd on the crowded dance floor.

They look so happy. I want to be happy like that.

She opened her Facebook page and watched as her feed filled with everyone stating their resolutions for the next year or lamenting about the ones they didn’t keep last year. Her old school friend, Bonnie Brown, even posted links to a goal-setting app she was using to get her life on track over the next year.

Maybe that’s what I need: an app and a plan.

She clicked on the link and read the short blurb in the iTunes store. The app was designed to help you achieve one big goal during the year. It split your goal up into twelve equal monthly bites, and then prompted you to record your progress at regular intervals. She pressed the “Get” button and watched as the app downloaded. A cute pink button with a big, black checkmark appeared on her screen and begged her to try it.

The first screen prompted her to enter her goal. She tapped her finger as she considered what she wanted to be doing this time next year. She glanced at Shelly admiring her engagement ring and suddenly her mind was made up. If Shelly could meet someone and get engaged in ten months, surely Jordan could do something similar.

Here’s my resolution, then. Three hundred and sixty-five days from now, I want to be married—no matter what.

She wrote the words into the space and saved. “Get Married This Year” appeared at the top of the screen in big, bold letters, and the app prompted her to enter the steps she would follow to achieve her goal. Sighing, she closed it and slipped her phone into her bag. There’d be plenty of time to work out the details tomorrow.

Emily and Andrea were still head to head, talking weddings, and Jordan looked around for a familiar face. Maybe it was time she found someone to dance with. Before she could slip out of the booth, however, the newly engaged couple appeared beside their table.

“We’re going to make a run for it,” Shelly said, her face a picture of apology. “Sorry to ditch you guys, but, well, you know.” She gave Jordan a hug and then moved on to the other two friends. “I know, I know,” she said, when they reminded her that it was poor form to ditch your friends on New Year’s Eve.

As Boyd dragged Shelly toward the door, she turned to her three friends and screamed in a loud, drunk voice, “You’re all my bridesmaids!” They laughed and raised their glasses to her as she disappeared through the doorway.

“I need some water. Do you guys want some?” Jordan stood on shaky legs and both Emily and Andrea leaped up to steady her.

“We’ll come with you. Look, there’s three seats at the bar where you were sitting with Mr Awful earlier.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jordan said. “He was the date from hell, and only fifteen minutes had passed.”

They perched on the stools and ordered wine and water. Once they were settled, Jordan put her head on the bar and Emily and Andrea rubbed her back. The bartender watched with a sympathetic smile as she slowly sat up and put her head in her hands.

“It’s alright, Jordan. She’s not moving away or anything,” Emily said.

“Yeah. We’ll still be the four girls most likely to end up together,” Andrea smiled.

“I don’t want us to end up together,” she smiled at them both, “no offence. I’m thrilled for her. I love Boyd to pieces, and I can’t wait to go to their wedding.” She lifted her head to look at her friends, “It’s just that I thought I’d be close to getting married by now and I’m not even in a relationship. I’m twenty-eight—before I know it, I’ll be thirty and then forty. Oh God, what if I’m not married by the time I’m forty?” She turned stricken eyes on them. “What will my mother say?”

Both women laughed as her thoughts ran away with her. They patted her shoulder and signalled the bartender to bring them another round of drinks, which he placed in front of them. Jordan lifted hers to eye level and examined the green liquid. She knew more alcohol wasn’t the answer to her problems. Now that she’d mixed her drinks all night, there was no telling what tomorrow’s hangover would bring. She took a sip and plonked the glass down on the bar.

“I’ve decided I want to be married by this time next year. I even downloaded an app to help me reach my goal. A decent boyfriend would be a great start, though. Is that too much to ask?”

“Well,” Emily began, “what exactly constitutes a decent boyfriend for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s make a list. If you could conjure him up right now, what would your perfect man be like?” Emily called the bartender over and whispered in his ear, and then she pulled a cocktail napkin toward her. The bartender dug under the bar and reappeared with a pen. “Okay, here we go. We’re going to work out what you’re looking for in Mr Right, so you’ll know when you find him. What’s the most important thing he has to have to make him perfect for our best friend, Jordan Parker?” Emily tapped the pen on the bar and waited.

“He needs a big—”

“Don’t you even say it, Andrea!” Emily said with a laugh.

Andrea scowled at her and rolled her eyes. “I was going to say, if you’d let me finish, that he has to have a big house.” She grinned at them both, sure that they didn’t see past her lies.

“No, he doesn’t need to own his own house. I don’t own a house, so why should he?”

“Well, what if your perfect man is forty five? Surely he should own a house by then?”

“Hmm… I’m not so sure I need him to own property. It seems a little shallow to only want someone with money.” Jordan frowned as she considered the plain, white napkin. “How about a car? That’s definitely on my list of requirements.” Emily wrote it down at the top of the list as Jordan continued thinking out loud. “Not an ugly car, though. No old panel vans or a square car, like a Ford Escort.” She laughed as Emily added the note to the list. “My God, this is so pathetic.”

“No! No, it’s not.” Andrea leaned forward to reassure her. “This is a brilliant idea. If you’re going to get married and you’ve put a time limit on it, you’ll need to have a way to weed out the unsuitable ones fast. Keep writing, Emily.” She nudged Jordan, who was now draining her glass. “What else?”

“Okay, we’re getting serious now, are we? He needs to have a job. I want him to have a great sense of humour, too.” The girls nodded their agreement as Emily jotted down the notes in a neat column. “He has to want kids and be interested in travel.” She closed her eyes as she thought of her mother’s refusal to go overseas with her father over the years. “I don’t want to be taking holidays on my own.”

“Alright, that’s a good list. Anything else?” Emily had the pen poised to add the next scintillating details of Jordan’s perfect man.

“Umm… what else? Can he be taller than me, please?”

“It’s your list, baby,” Andrea reminded her. “He can be anything you want. He can even have a big… house.” She giggled as her friends glared at her again.

“I also want him to treat me right. Maybe we should redo the list and put that at the top. It’s more important than all the rest.” She sighed as her eyes ran over the words.

Is there really someone out there for me who encompasses all the items on my list?

Andrea waved to the bartender and he delivered another round of drinks. Jordan eyed the dark liquid swirling in her new glass. She’d lost count of how much she’d had by now.

Lucky I’m not driving home!

The bartender was leaning forward, reading the list. He tapped the space at the bottom. “You need to add something to make this guy stand out from all the rest.”

“What do you mean?” Emily frowned at him, daring him to diss the perfectly good list they’d created.

“I mean, this list could describe half the men in this bar. Hey, it describes me.” He grinned and raised his hands at them as their mouths fell open. “Don’t worry; I’m taken, ladies. It’s a great example, though. I fit every single one of those criteria, and you wouldn’t necessarily want to take me home to Mummy, would you?”

“Ha! You’d be the one regretting it if I took you home to my mother. That’s something I’ll be saving for the very end, when I know my future husband is too in love to try to escape.” Jordan shuddered as she thought of her high school formal date, who’d had to endure thirty minutes of chatter while sitting on their front couch before her mother would let them leave. It might have been ten years ago, but it made her cringe like it was yesterday. “Do you have any suggestions for the list?”

“Nope. I think you need one item that stands out. Just my two cents.”

He moved to the end of the bar to serve the next customer, and the girls put their heads together and discussed what other qualities the perfect man might possess. They announce the worst traits they’d experienced in a partner and tried to think of the opposite. Every awful relationship, however, boiled down to the same few categories. Different interests, not treating them right, having no ambition, or being physically incompatible.

Jordan was stumped and more than a little drunk. “What time is it?” she used her loudest voice, since the music seemed to have increased in volume in the last few minutes.

Emily checked her phone. “It’s a few minutes after eleven—still another hour until New Year’s. Maybe we should dance. You know, get you a head start on your resolution to hook up.” She grinned as Jordan wobbled on her stool.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of dancing right now. Why don’t you two go and I’ll watch your bags?”

“No way, we’re not leaving you here. I’ll get us another drink and then we have to work out how you’re going to find this perfect man.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I’ll use my app.” She pulled out her phone and placed it on the bar as yet more drinks appeared in front of them. “Here, we need to make a list of steps—kind of like rules. Suggestions?”

Emily was the first to speak. “I think you have to promise yourself that you’ll look at all options. No matter how unsuitable you think someone is, if they meet the requirements on the list, you have to go on a date with them.”

“That sounds fair. How much worse could it be than what I’ve already endured?” She laughed as she typed in the first rule. “Next? Don’t talk too fast, either—I’m having trouble typing.”

“My turn,” Andrea said. “You need to make sure you go on a minimum of two decent dates each month. If no one who meets the list appears, you have to date someone unsuitable, to help keep your hand in the game. Once you get out of practice, it’ll be harder.”

“That sounds like crap! I don’t want to date anyone who doesn’t fit the list. If I go on two dates a month, that’ll be twenty-four dates in the year. I haven’t been on twenty-four dates in the last four years!”

“Bad luck. Write it down. That’s why we’re making these rules, so you mix up your life a little. You can always delete it tomorrow when we’re all a bit more clear-headed.” Andrea spun her stool so she could see the dance floor. Her favourite song was now pounding from the speakers and she glanced up at the DJ booth, a frown settling on her pretty features. “Can you see anyone in the booth? Who’s even playing the music tonight? Whoever chose this set is my eternal hero.”

“I have no idea.” Emily didn’t even turn to look. She’d long ago sworn off getting involved with any musicians or DJs. “You have to make a list of places to find a date, Jordan. Write all of these in: Tinder, eHarmony, and . What others are there?”

“Hang on, hang on, you’re going too fast.” Jordan tapped on her screen and scowled at the words that appeared.

“Download the apps, too, while we’re here. You can set them up tomorrow and get started on your search.” Emily always was the sensible one, and she seemed to be holding her drinks a lot better than Jordan was tonight.

“Okay, downloading Tinder now. Is that really a dating site? I feel like it’s a hook-up place.”

“It is, but who says you can’t find true love after a hook-up?” Andrea laughed at the shocked look on Jordan’s face. “Oh, calm down. I’ll show you how to use it tomorrow.” Her attention was again drawn to the dance floor. “They couldn’t be playing recorded music, could they? I can’t see anyone up there.”

Jordan shielded her eyes from the light, “I can’t see anyone, either.” Her eyes followed a shadow who moved around the edge of the dance floor not dancing, and suddenly he was bathed in the strobe light hanging from the ceiling. “Oh, there he is. That’s the DJ.” She pointed so Andrea could see where she was looking.

“Oh, he’s cute. Too bad we missed our chance to capture him out here. They never leave the booth, you know, since all the girls are trying to get with them.”

“Well, I’m not trying to get with him, but I do know what the extra item on the list should be.” Jordan swivelled on her stool, grinned at her friends, and tried hard not to slur her words. “After the bottom I just admired, my perfect man has to look fantastic in jeans!”

 

***

 

rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head.  Her mouth tasted like she’d eaten a bag of kitty litter—and not the fresh stuff from the box. She needed to go to the toilet, but she lay still for a moment, deciding whether she also needed to be sick. The bright sunlight streaming into the room hurt her eyes and made her head throb.

Why didn’t I think to close the curtains before I went to bed?

Making the decision to go to the toilet first, she tried to slide her body toward the edge of the bed. Her limbs weren’t cooperating, though, which was always a bad sign.

She groaned and slid sideways again. Her leg touched something warm and hairy in the bed, and she cursed the damn dog who refused to sleep in his bed in the laundry unless she locked him in.

Coming home drunk means not doing anything you should before bed. I hope I took him out to pee, or I’ll have an extra mess to clean up.

She pushed Rex with her foot, hoping to wake him up enough to make him jump off the bed and clear her way to the bathroom. She nudged him again and he gave a muffled groan, denying her the clear access she craved. Losing patience, she shoved him with her foot; that always got him out of her bed.

Not this time, though. His body barely moved and she ripped the pillow off her head with an exasperated sigh. When she flicked it to the side, she heard a new sound right beside her. It wasn’t the sound of a dog, but the sound of soft, human snoring. She turned to take in the sleeping form of a stranger beside her, and blinked. Who was he?

Oh, God. Did I sleep with someone last night? What a stupid question. The proof is snoring right there beside you.

She leaned up on one elbow, trying to move slowly so she wouldn’t wake him. A quick glance down the bed confirmed that Rex had never been lying near her feet. The warmth had been this man. There was zero recognition; she didn’t think she’d ever seen him before in her life. Things were going to get awkward once he woke up.

Maybe I can sneak out and he’ll be gone when I come back?

Sneak out of her own house? Leave a stranger loose here to help himself to her possessions? No, that was a very bad idea—worse than the decision she’d made to take this man home last night.

He wasn’t unattractive; from what she could see of him lying face up with his mouth open, he was cute. A chiselled chin and a couple of days of stubble graced his face. He had high cheekbones and a recent, fashionable haircut. If he were to sit up and reveal clear, blue eyes, he could be one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. Why was he in her bed, though? What had possessed him to go home with an obviously inebriated Jordan Parker?

He must have been drunk, too.

Of course! That was the only explanation she could conjure in her aching head as she slipped out her side of the bed and made for the bathroom. She took care of business and was pleased that, despite her pounding temples, she didn’t need to throw up. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and tidied her hair. Once she looked semi-presentable, she crept back to her room to weigh her options.

While she’d been gone, the sheet had moved lower on his body; a smooth, muscled chest now confronted her. His six-pack peeked at her as her eyes wandered downward, and she suddenly realised she didn’t know if he was wearing pants. If the sheet had crept down another couple of inches, she’d have had her answer.

She moved to her side of the bed without making a sound, and her eyes widened as she saw the contents of her small evening bag spread across the dresser. Her phone, some coins, and her credit cards were spread everywhere. On top of them was a crumbled napkin with writing all over it. Fascinated, she picked it up and smoothed it out.

It was a list with a heading of Jordan’s Perfect Man. Memories of last night came flooding back as she remembered Shelly’s engagement and Emily and Andrea helping her make this list while joking about the New Year’s resolution she’d made. Her head throbbed harder as she remembered making the list. Glancing at the hot man in her bed made her smile to herself; her list didn’t say one thing about how her perfect man’s face should look. That made her feel the slightest bit better about her shallow new plan to find a husband.

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked again at her unfamiliar companion. He was more attractive than she’d thought. Maybe that was because she’d been staring at him for ten minutes, now.

Is he the one? Did I luck into meeting the man of my dreams when I’d decided he would never show up on his own?

As she watched him, her hand reached out to wake him, but she snatched it back as he stirred and rolled toward her. She held her breath as he got closer and then relaxed as he continued snoring. She should probably let him sleep, go get some breakfast, and let him come out when he was ready. Maybe he was awake and pretending to snore as he worked out how to escape through a window. As she inched away, he opened his eyes and blinked at her. She froze.

“Hey,” he said, examining her face. “Who are you?” She laughed and tried to hide how awkward she felt. This was her first one night stand, if indeed they’d had sex, and he didn’t even remember her!

“I’m Jordan. Who are you?”

“I’m Fish.”

“Fish?” She laughed out loud and then put her hand over her mouth to smother her giggle. “What kind of a name is that?”

“It’s my DJ name. You know, like a stage name. You don’t think The Fresh Prince is Will Smith’s real name, do you?”

She frowned at him. He must know how dumb that statement sounded. “Umm… anyway, how did you get here?”

“I have no idea. Is this your house?”

“It is. More important, this is my bed.” She watched as his facial features rearranged themselves from shock to recognition.

“So it is. We must have been pretty hammered, since we can’t remember, eh?” He sat up and rubbed his hand over his face before looking more closely at her. “You can’t remember, either, can you? I’m not about to get the award for asshole of the year by being the only one who had too much to drink?”

She laughed at the look of horror on his face, and although she was tempted to make him sweat for a while, she took pity on him straight away. “I’m afraid I don’t remember a thing. I had a lot to drink—I drank whatever I was handed, which I never do. So, don’t feel bad.” She stood up and got her larger handbag from the closet. She gathered her items from the dresser and dumped them into it before turning to him. “I’m going to make coffee. Would you like some?”

He groaned, “Yes, please. My head is pounding.” He clutched his forehead and the sheet slipped lower.

Jordan fled the room before it could slide right off and confirm exactly what they’d done last night.

 

***

 

Half an hour later, they sat at the kitchen table with coffee mugs clutched between their fingers. It was almost lunchtime, and Jordan’s phone pinged every so often—a sign that the girls were out of bed and eager to catch up. On New Year’s Day, they had a long-standing tradition of a late lunch at their favourite café. Soon, she’d need to answer and confirm that she was coming.

She couldn’t do that, however, until she worked out what was going on with Fish. He hadn’t run from the house the first chance he’d gotten, but he wasn’t making any romantic overtures, either. She had no idea why he was still in her cosy apartment.

“I haven’t seen you at the club before.” All of his conversation revolved around the nightclub and his work.

“I go there every week. You’re not the regular DJ, are you?”

“No, I started about ten days ago. I have the Sunday and Monday night shifts as a trial.”

Jordan resisted a new urge to push him out the door as fast as she could. He didn’t seem too bright, and she suddenly knew this relationship had already run its course. He sipped his coffee and appeared to be waiting on a reply from her.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m still wondering why I haven’t seen you before. You’re pretty, and I usually notice the pretty girls.”

“You already answered your own question.”

He looked confused. “What?”

A sigh escaped her lips. He wasn’t the one, and he had to go. She stood up and removed the empty cup he clutched in his hand. “You need to leave now, Fish. It’s been fun, but I have a lunch date.”

“Oh, okay. Can you give me a lift to the club? My car is there.” His brow creased, as he looked confused again. “At least, I think it’s there. God, I hope we didn’t drive here.”

“Me too. Don’t worry, I’m sure we took a cab or got a lift. We were obviously blotto.” She smiled at him and indicated he should return to the bedroom.

His eyes lit up and she quickly shook her head. “No, Fish. You need to get dressed—you’re only wearing your undies.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, give me a minute.” He rushed off to find his clothes and she sighed to herself. He was such a beautiful specimen of manhood, but there was zero chance of long-term potential. When he finally reappeared and his six-foot tall body filled the doorway, she was reminded of some hazy advice from the bartender: just because a man had everything on her list didn’t mean she’d want to be stuck with him forever.

She locked her apartment door and turned to see him looking confused as he gazed down the stairs. “You live above a coffee shop?” She nodded and moved toward the stairs as he started to descend. “Why didn’t we go down and get good coffee, then?”

She ground her teeth and showed him to her car, and they made awkward small talk as she drove to the club. With a wave of his hand, he slid off the seat and banged the door behind him. She then headed to the café where her friends were no doubt waiting for the post mortem. Too bad she could hardly remember a thing after they’d filled in her goal-setting app.

 

***

 

“Give me the list we wrote last night,” Andrea held out her hand as Jordan looked around the restaurant.

“I don’t have it.”

“Bullshit. Give it to me. You’re not getting out of this resolution on the very first day.” She wiggled her fingers as she patiently waited. Jordan sighed and picked up her handbag. She dug around until she found the crumbled piece of paper, and she placed it in Andrea’s palm before she could change her mind. “Thanks. Now, what awesome things did we write down?”

“You can’t remember what we did, either? You always seem to come up better than the rest of us the day after.”

“I remember most of it… just not the finer details.” Andrea grinned at Emily, who sat with her dark glasses firmly covering her eyes. “At least I’m not as sick as Em.”

“I’m never drinking cocktails again. Strictly wine for me from now on.” Emily groaned as giant plates of eggs and bacon were placed in front of Jordan and Andrea. “How can you possibly stomach that—and where the hell is Shelly?”

“We’re starving, and Shelly is on her way.” Jordan chewed a small piece of bacon. “She promised not to ditch us today.”

“Yeah, well, that was before she became the future Mrs Boyd Ramsay. I bet she stays in bed all day.”

“Maybe she got an earlier night than us—they left well before midnight. Oh, see, here she is.” Andrea waved her hand in the direction of the door. “Nice of you to join us, slowpoke!”

“Enough of that. I had to drop Boyd back to get his car. He wanted to come for breakfast, but I ditched him just for you girls.” She plonked down in the seat next to Jordan and gave her a quick hug. “You look interesting. Big night?”

Before Jordan could answer, Andrea piped up. “I’d say so. Jordan, here, managed to bag the elusive DJ last night.”

“Oh, don’t remind me. He was gorgeous, but not meant for me. Worse than that, I can’t even remember us actually doing it. It was a wasted effort!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“Nope. The last thing I remember is putting the bit about looking great in jeans into the app. After that, it’s all a blur. I don’t even know how we got home.”

“You got a taxi—I remember that part. He was all over you when the club closed at three.”

“Really? That could explain why he wasn’t totally repulsed by me today.”

“Yet you set him free.” Andrea rolled her eyes and twirled her finger around her ear. “You’re crazy, girl!”

“What app are you talking about?” Shelly signalled the waitress to bring her a menu. “What did I miss about looking great in jeans?”

“Oh, Jordan decided she’s going to get married this year, so we made a plan to find her perfect man.”

Shelly laughed. “Really? That’s going to be fun. You should write about it on your blog.”

“No, I shouldn’t. I don’t want men appearing out of the woodwork that are interested in getting on my blog. That would add a whole extra layer of complicated to the process.” Jordan put her knife and fork down and turned to her friend. “Besides, this is your time to bask in the glow of being engaged. We shouldn’t be talking about my plans.” She grabbed Shelly’s hand where her engagement ring sparkled as brightly as it had the night before. “I didn’t get a chance to admire this gorgeous thing last night. Do you love it?”

“I do. He chose so well. I’ve always imagined I wanted to choose my own ring, but this is so beautiful.” She held it up in front of her, and it was clear that she still couldn’t believe he’d asked her to marry him. She glanced around the table at her friends. “I meant what I said last night: I want you three to be my bridesmaids. I can’t do this without you all there.”

The three of them all spoke at once.

“Of course we’ll be there!”

“We wouldn’t miss it!”

“You’re going to be so beautiful!”

She smiled at them as her meal was delivered: two eggs on one piece of toast.

“So, have you set the date? Where is your bacon?” Jordan nudged her.

She grinned as she cut into her egg. “I figured I should start with the diet straight away.”

“What diet? Are you serious? Diets are for people who won’t fit into their dress. You’re a size ten!”

“I know, I know. I’d like to stay that way, so I’m going to be good right up until the wedding. We haven’t chosen a date, yet, but we will tonight. It will probably be sometime in September or October. It’ll be getting warm by then, so there’s a better chance of good weather, since I want to get married outside.”

They ate their breakfast in silence with occasional comments about the size of Shelly’s ring. Jordan successfully kept the conversation away from her New Year’s resolution until the dishes had been cleared and they were each enjoying a cup of coffee.

“So, Jordan, back to you. Show Shelly the app.”

She groaned as she pulled her phone out of her bag. “Maybe this was a terrible idea. I was really drunk when I said I wanted to get married. Maybe it was because Shelly got engaged and because my mother never stops asking me when it’s going to happen.”

“Drunk people speak the truth, like kids,” Andrea stated.

Shelly flicked through the screens and laughed as they all watched. “You were drunk, Jordan—your spelling is awful. This is like when people send drunk texts to their exes.” She laughed again as she read the list and corrected some of the items. “This is a truly fun plan. Even if you don’t find a husband, you’re going to have some great stories to tell about the whole experience. You should write it on your blog. Single women everywhere would lap it up, especially if it gets juicy.”

“No blogging. I blog enough for work without having to document my dating life, too.”

“Come on, if it’s juicy enough, you could get a movie offer.”

“Yeah, a porn extravaganza. No, thank you; that’s definitely not on the list.”

“Okay, keep your hair on—it was only an idea. Did you set up your profiles on those dating sites you downloaded?”

“Not yet. I don’t know what to write.”

Andrea piped up, “Let me curate your Tinder profile. I know exactly how to do it so you get the best swipes.”

“What does that even mean? Don’t you upload your photo and write some zany details about yourself?”

“No way!” Andrea looked horrified. “You need to make sure your photos are in the right order, from best to worst. You have a dog, so that can totally work to your advantage. We’ll set it up perfectly, so you get only great guys swiping right. I promise I’m the master at this.”

“Why are you still single, then? I knew Tinder was just for hook-ups!”

“Let’s not judge it before you’ve tried it, okay? If you hate it, you can delete the app and never use it again, but if you like it…” Andrea let her words hang in the air.

Shelly’s phone beeped and she glanced at it as she spoke to them. “I think you need to add one more thing to that list.”

“What? I’m scared to even ask.” Jordan considered giving up the whole idea as a bad joke born of too much alcohol and a tiny amount of best friend wedding jealousy.

“You need to decide that, no matter what happens, you’re not going to give up. You’re going to see this through for the whole year, and no matter how bleak it might look, you’ll keep going with it.”

Jordan sighed. “Fine.” She held up her middle three fingers and her friends laughed. “I hereby swear that I’ll pursue every avenue to find my perfect man, get myself married, and get my mother off my case—Scout’s honour, even though I’m not now, nor have I ever been, a Scout.”

Emily clapped her hands and then clutched her head. Andrea handed her a paracetamol packet from her handbag, and they nattered on for the rest of the afternoon about their various plans for the coming week.

Jordan knew, as she sat there, listening to them joking and laughing, that things would never be the same once they each got married. It was, however, a chance she was still desperate to take.