sat in the coffee shop downstairs the next day, fiddling with her Tinder app. Andrea had shown her how to use it after they’d set up her profile, and now she found herself agonising over her swiping choices. It was hard to believe so many people had registered on this site and were “looking for love.” What ever happened to meeting someone socially and finding out that they were the right one for you?

You already tried that. Have you forgotten Fish, already?

She hadn’t forgotten him. She’d mostly tried to put him out of her mind the minute she’d dropped him at the club yesterday.

That doesn’t count—I was drunk. Her own thoughts taunted her. Yes, that’s what can happen when you meet someone socially.

An older gentleman drew Jordan’s attention across the room as he motioned to the server. He waved his arms and cleared his throat until he had her standing by his table. “I’d like to order a coffee, please, Merrill.”

“Oh, we don’t have table service, sir. You need to order at the counter and listen for your name.” She went to move away, but he spoke again.

“Merrill, I came here because I want to get some work done. I can’t be leaving my table and my computer unattended each time I want a coffee. You understand, dear.” He smiled at her, expecting that she would now take his order.

“I do know what you mean, sir. Unfortunately, we don’t employ staff for table service. I’m sure your computer will be fine here, though. Several other people work in this café, and it’s never an issue.” She smiled pleasantly at him.

“Merrill, do you have a manager onsite?” His tone held the slightest threat, and Jordan watched as the waitress squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before turning to address him again.

“My name is Cindy—Cindy Merrill. It’s right here on my name badge, which for some odd reason, you appear to be reading backward.” She spoke in a firm voice, and anyone else could see that she planned to take no prisoners. “I am the owner here, and we do not offer table service. Please order at the counter.” She smiled a steely smile and retreated behind the counter. The gentleman looked annoyed, and he quickly packed up his computer and huffed out the door.

Jordan grinned as she heard her own name called. As the owner handed her her coffee, she couldn’t resist making a joke. “I’m going to call you Merrill from now on, if that’s okay, Merrill?” Cindy’s eyes widened until she saw the smile on Jordan’s face.

“You’ll do no such thing, Jordan Parker. If you call me Merrill even one time, I’ll put your rent up!” The two women laughed and Jordan returned to her seat in the corner.

She opened Tinder again and swiped right on a couple of pleasant-looking men. Not for the first time, she wished they’d added some physical features to the list of must-haves. That would have made it so much easier to eliminate men from her potential list of suitors. Andrea had joked yesterday about adding a clause about potential suitors being much older than her, but from what she’d seen of Merrill’s customer this morning, age didn’t make people more suitable, either.

She read the profile of an attractive man who said he loved dogs, cats, and kids. Her finger hovered over the screen as she sipped her coffee.

Stuff it, just swipe. Andrea says you can block them later, if they’re awful.

Her finger swiped right and she sat back in her chair to wait. Several minutes passed… and nothing. There was no notification of a match, like Andrea had said would pop up.

Maybe it’s not working.

She checked her settings and decided everything looked fine. It was time to swipe on someone else. Over the next fifteen minutes, she swiped right on eight different men. After a couple of minutes, her screen filled with notifications of a match, and she felt like she was getting the hang of it. She knew she was supposed to send messages to those she had matched with, but she felt awkward to be the one to go first. As she was pondering whether she’d be brave and message someone, a message popped up from one of the men.

 

HEY LADY, YOU SO PRETTY. WHAT U DOIN ON TINDER.

 

Oh, dear. What do I do now? Is it wrong to feel like you don’t gel with someone after two seconds of reading their message?

Reminding herself that this was an app and she wasn’t obliged to answer someone based on a match, she closed the window and moved to the next message she’d received.

 

HI, THERE. HOW ARE YOU?

 

It seemed a lot less confrontational, and she felt confident answering. She sent a generic message saying she was great and asking how he was. She sipped her coffee and worried for the thousandth time that this was a bad idea. Andrea said she had hundreds of matches, but Jordan didn’t want to be messaging hundreds of guys at a time. How would she keep them all straight in her head?

She decided to choose one man to send a message to from the group that had matched with her. She was a modern woman, after all, and she couldn’t sit and wait for all of them to make the first move. Scrolling through the list, she settled on a man whose photo was of him with a dog. Dogs should give them some common ground, right? Andrea had said dogs were good.

She sent a message asking if he’d been on Tinder long, and then she closed the app and concentrated on her coffee. Jordan felt lame and maybe a bit desperate. Before she could consider deleting the app, however, it buzzed with another message. Groaning, she reached for the phone and checked the screen.

 

NOT VERY LONG. HOW ABOUT MEETING FOR COFFEE AND I’LL TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY ADVENTURES IN PERSON?

 

He wants to meet! What the hell do I do now? Meet him, of course. Isn’t that the whole point of this exercise?

Her finger hovered over screen as she struggled to make a decision. Picturing Andrea laughing at her if she chickened out, she messaged him back to meet her at ten o’clock in this coffee shop. That would make it easy for her, since she could come downstairs at the appointed time and then nip upstairs when they were done.

It was only eight now, so she had time to have a shower and get ready. She saw that she had three more messages asking if she’d like to meet for coffee, and she was sure that was a bad sign, since it was the first contact they’d made with her. Her list of rules said she had to accept all offers, though, which meant she had to meet these guys once before discounting them. Tapping out messages to them, she arranged to meet them at eleven, twelve, and one o’clock. They were each an hour apart—surely an hour was enough time to grab a coffee and discover if you liked someone enough to take it further?

 

***

 

Right on ten, she sat at her favourite table in the corner of the café. She could see everyone coming and going, and she’d be able to see each of her dates before they saw her. The only downside to this plan was that she had no way to escape if she saw them and decided she wanted to run. Running was against the rules, anyway, she reminded herself as she sipped her cold water. She’d already decided to limit her coffee intake, since she had to meet four separate men today. She’d be wired if she drank coffee with all of them and then had more in between!

Her first suitor appeared in the doorway of the coffee shop, and she knew straight away that they weren’t going to get along. He was a foot shorter than his profile stated and his photo had apparently been quite old—at least ten years old, judging by the man who appeared at her table with his hand outstretched.

“Hi, there. Jordan, is it?”

“That’s right,” she held out her hand. “You’re Bob?” Jordan asked as he sat in the chair opposite her, not bothering to introduce himself. He seemed oblivious to the fact that there was a chance he wasn’t the only date she had today.

“I am. Can I buy you a coffee?”

“Actually, I’m going to stick with water, if you don’t mind.” She smiled as he stood. “I’ve already had two this morning and I like to limit myself.”

“Or,” he paused as he looked down at her, “you’re not planning on staying long.”

She blushed at his veiled accusation. “No, that’s not it at all. I don’t want to have too much caffeine.”

He sighed and glanced at the counter before looking back at her. “Listen, I know a blow-off when I hear it. I’ll put you out of your misery and go.” With that, he turned and walked out of the café, not even turning to see Jordan’s mouth hanging open.

Her surprise was hard to hide as she stood from the table and took the stairs two by two to her apartment. She leaned against the front door as it closed behind her, muttering to herself about lucky escapes.

What on Earth am I doing?

Feeling an overwhelming desire to cancel the other three dates, she launched herself into vacuuming and cleaning the apartment. Forty minutes later, she checked her makeup and steeled herself to go downstairs and take up her usual position.

Her usual table was occupied, however, and she glanced around for the next best option. The only vacant tables were right next to the door, so she slipped reluctantly into a chair at one of those. She didn’t order a drink, not wanting to upset the next man who arrived for their coffee date. Right at eleven, he arrived and walked straight past her. He stood at the counter, placing his coffee order, as she tried to catch his attention.

He turned with his coffee and headed for the door, but she stepped in front of him. “Hey, Brett, aren’t you going to stay?” He looked surprised at her words and stopped dead.

“Umm… I’m Luke, not Brett.”

“Oh, really? Are you sure you’re not trying to get out of here without meeting me?” Her eyes flashed as she accused him. “What’s with you men today?” Shaking her head, she took a step back. “Go—just go. I give up.”

He watched as she plopped into her chair with a defeated sigh. Frowning, he slipped into the seat opposite her. “Who do you think I am? My name really is Luke, and I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You look exactly like the guy I’m meant to meet from Tinder. His profile says his name is Brett.”

“We must look similar, then, I guess. Wait, you’re on Tinder?” He looked her up and down with an incredulous look on his face before meeting her eyes again. “Sorry, you surprised me. I may have to try that app out, after all.”

She blushed a deep red as the couple next to them watched with interest. Jordan had tried so hard to keep Tinder a secret from the people she saw occasionally in the shop, and now complete strangers were hearing all about it.

“Well, it was kind of a bet.” She caught herself before she explained the whole idea to him. “Anyway, never mind. I’m sorry to bother you.” She pulled out her phone, berating herself for being so stupid. Why didn’t she sit there, wait, and go home if he didn’t show? He did look like the elusive Brett, though, she told herself, as she opened his profile again.

Luke was still sitting at her table, and she turned her phone to show him, “Ha! It is you, look.”

He leaned forward and looked at her phone. “Holy shit—that’s my Facebook photo. It’s not my Tinder profile, though, I can promise you. Can I see?” He held out his hand and she passed him the phone. “I cannot believe someone is using my Facebook photo to pick up women. How is that even possible? I thought you had to link to Facebook to be able to start a Tinder account?”

“Oh, so you’re not on Tinder, but you know what you have to do to open an account? That’s telling.” She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just admit that it’s you and you weren’t interested enough to stay and meet me?”

“Believe me, if I had a date with you, I would not stand you up.” He grinned, but she was unconvinced. “Let’s look up that guy on Facebook. What’s his last name?”

“Stephens.”

“Okay, Brett Stephens, what are you doing using a hot specimen like me for your profile?” he muttered as he searched on his phone. Jordan couldn’t help but smile; he had seemed genuinely surprised at her reaction to him not being Brett. “Ahh… there you go. He has a whole profile on Facebook with several of my photos.” He handed her his phone and grinned as he stretched back in his seat and linked his hands behind his head. “Brett obviously thinks I’m hot enough to attract the ladies for him. I wonder why he hasn’t shown up to confess to his crimes?”

She hated the way he was laughing at her while at the same time being wildly pleased with himself. “I think it’s time I quit Tinder. This has turned out to be one disaster after another.” She picked up her handbag and slipped her phone into the side pocket. “I’m so sorry I accosted you. What are the chances of you showing up here on the day I’m meant to meet someone who says they are you?”

“Creepy coincidence, I reckon,” he said, standing when she did. Before she could slip past him and up the stairs, he spoke again, “Listen, I’ll make you a deal. If your next date turns out to be a dud, call me and I’ll take you out.” He handed her his business card and she slipped it into her bag without looking at it, as her brain furiously thought over his offer.

“Are you asking me out?”

“Nope, I’m offering to take you out if the next guy is shit. Kind of a sympathy date. Deal?”

Dammit. If he’d asked me out, I would have had to say yes because of the rules. Why couldn’t he have said yes?

“I guess. I’m sure I can’t strike out three times in a row, though, so don’t expect to hear from me. I’m worth more than a sympathy date.”

“True. My loss. See you ‘round.” He, his cheeky grin, and his coffee disappeared out the door, and she watched him walk to a pushbike chained around a street sign.

God dammit, he rides a bike. No car means he doesn’t meet the list requirements. That’s a shame, a naughty voice whispered in her ear. His bum looks amazing in those jeans.

 

***

 

As the clock hands crept toward one o’clock, Jordan examined herself in the mirror. She’d scrubbed the bathroom and her house was now spotless.

This dating business is sure great for getting my chores done. I should have thought of it sooner.

She brushed her hair and tied it into a tight ponytail before going in search of her keys for the fourth time today. As she descended to the ground floor, she said a silent prayer for the universe to send her a decent guy. The fourth time would have to be the charm, because her third date had turned out to be crazy.

He’d brought his dog along, which she’d thought was a nice touch, until he’d insisted they sit right near the window so his “baby” could see him. He’d gotten up no less than ten times to get items for the dog. First it was water, and then a request to Cindy for something the dog could eat. After that, he’d moved the dog into the shade, went out to check that its collar wasn’t too tight, and chased off a small boy who wanted to pat the animal. By that point, Jordan had had enough and she excused herself, citing another appointment. Her date had cheerfully grinned at her, said goodbye, and rushed out to the dog. The last she saw of him, he was carrying it up the street and letting it lick his mouth.

Eww…

She settled herself now at her favourite table and ignored Cindy’s questioning stare. After pulling up a book on her Kindle, she kept herself busy reading while she waited for victim number four to show up.

She was engrossed in the story a few minutes later, when she heard a soft cough beside her table. Jordan looked up into the most stunning green eyes she’d ever seen as the hand with the Kindle fell onto her lap.

She didn’t speak as she gazed up at her date, and he eventually stuck out his hand, “Hi, I’m Richard. You’re Jordan?” She took his hand and nodded mutely, unable to believe those eyes.

His Tinder photos do not do him justice.

“Can I get you a drink?”

She snapped herself out of her stupor and smiled up at him with what she hoped was an engaging grin. “Yes, please. I’ll have a black coffee.” He smiled and turned away to place his order with Cindy, and Jordan’s eyes crept down his back.

Damn, those jeans fit him well. So far, so good.

He returned with the drinks and settled himself opposite her. “So, Jordan, what do you do for work?” He wasted no time getting to the questions—or maybe he was trying to put her at ease.

“I run a website. I write the articles, organise advertising, and that sort of thing. How about you?”

“I’m an advertising executive. We run all the big campaigns you see on television—mostly for beer companies or soft drink brands.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“It’s alright. It pays well, and there are loads of perks, like not working on Saturdays.” He smiled and she relaxed for the first time that day.

Maybe my luck has finally changed.

They chatted for the next thirty minutes, or so, and Jordan had decided she was quite comfortable with him when he started checking his watch. She was in the middle of telling him about some of the funniest spam messages she’d received on her website when he suddenly held up his hand, looking uncomfortable. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“It is, but Jordan, I’m afraid I’m going to have to run.” Her eyes narrowed and he placed his hand over hers on the table. “It’s not what you think, I promise. I made plans with a mate to go to the football this afternoon. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy myself with you so much.” He realised what he’d said and frowned at himself. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I thought I’d be here for thirty minutes and then I’d be able to escape. You’re fun, though, and I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay.”

She smiled at him as she thought about the warmth of his hand on hers. He was someone she’d definitely like to see again. “Sure, that’d be great. Do you want to make a time, or do you want to call me?”

“How about I walk you to your car and we can check our calendars? Mine’s pretty free, to be honest.”

They rose from the table as Jordan realised she was going to have to go to her car, as though she didn’t live directly upstairs. As they moved to the door, he placed his hand on the small of her back; for a nanosecond, she considered confessing, but something stopped her. It was too soon to tell him where she lived, no matter how much she liked him. It was also kind of weird to have to tell him she lived upstairs and had scheduled her dates an hour apart downstairs. After a day of meeting odd men, she wasn’t ready to be thought of as the weird girl from Tinder.

She led him to her car, kicking herself mentally for not considering this possibility. They walked to the side street where it was parked, and he suggested they meet in two weeks on a Tuesday night for dinner. She popped it in her calendar and shook his hand before sliding into her car and giggling to herself.

Where should she go? She didn’t have any errands to run, and she knew everyone else was off doing their thing. She put the car in gear and pulled out onto the street. When she stopped at the corner to turn right, she noticed Richard getting into a late model, red sports car.

Tick off another item from the list. He’s doing pretty well.

Jordan turned onto the street and again at the next intersection. She drove for a block or two, trying to decide what she should do with herself. As she stopped at the next intersection with her right indicator on, she knew exactly where she would go. She turned, turned right again, and before she knew it, she was sliding into the parking spot she’d vacated a few minutes earlier. Chuckling to herself, she locked up the car and returned to the coffee shop, heading for the stairs. Cindy’s questioning stare followed her through the store as she swept past.

 

***

 

dinner date with Richard rolled around faster than Jordan expected. She was working on a big project to revamp her website, and several times in the next two weeks, she found herself hunched over in front of the computer at two in the morning. Sleeping in the next day meant the days passed quickly, and before she knew it, she was getting ready to meet Richard at the restaurant he’d texted her about.

She was ready early, so she sat on the couch and checked her messages to pass the time. In the weeks since she’d met Richard, she’d signed up with eHarmony and match.com, and she’d had quite a large response from the men of the world. Too many, in fact, and she’d had to cheat a little bit on the rule that, if they asked her out, she had to say yes. Men who messaged through dating apps weren’t the same as men you met in a restaurant or in a club, it seemed, and in the end, she’d said no to quite a few of them.

A man named Peter had asked her to go out with him on his boat on the weekend and she still couldn’t decide whether to say yes. Going alone on a boat did not sound like a safe idea for a first date, no matter how she tried to spin it in her head. She messaged him to tell him she didn’t feel comfortable about it, and he replied almost instantly.

 

SORRY, MY MISTAKE. WE AREN’T GOING TO BE ALONE; THERE’S A BOAT CREW AND OTHER GUESTS. TAKE A CHANCE?

 

She read the message and frowned. It couldn’t be that bad, if others were coming along, too, could it? Taking the bull by the horns seemed to be what was required of her these days, so she quickly accepted, and he gave her the details for their weekend meet up. She didn’t have long to think about it, as it was time to get herself to the restaurant to meet Richard.

This whole dating thing has definitely improved my social life, if nothing else.

 

***

 

Richard met her outside the restaurant, looking dapper in a dark green shirt and black pants. His eyes sparkled whenever he looked at her, and Jordan felt a tiny trickle of desire creep down her spine. If he kept this up, Richard might wipe the competition out of the running. She had to admit that she’d like that a lot. Agreeing to dates and scheduling them into her calendar was proving to kill some of the romance she expected when meeting men.

Insisting the guys on her list all had their own cars was pointless, too, since she wasn’t giving out her home address to any of them. Either they picked her up from somewhere else, or she drove herself. When she drove it took away all the chances for mindless chatter in the car. She’d always been convinced that the conversations that helped you get to know someone were the ones that occurred when people were the most relaxed. She felt like her dates were on their best behaviour whenever she spent time with them; it wasn’t exactly perfect for meeting your soul mate or getting to know what made someone tick.

The waiter showed them to their table and they made small talk as Richard told her about his day. She didn’t have much to share; she’d written two blog posts, booked the next month’s advertising, and spent the rest of the day on social media. It was hardly scintillating stuff to a big ad executive.

He was nice, though, and he made her feel like he was interested in her and what she had to say. They discussed the upcoming election and laughed together as the couple at the next table had a row right there in the restaurant before both storming out. The waiter running after them and demanding that someone pay for the meal had them both in stitches again as they waited for their dessert to arrive.

Jordan was happy and relaxed when Richard broached the subject of what they should do next. “So, I have a question for you.” His finger ran along the back of her hand as he looked at her. “Are you interested in taking this further with me?”

She laughed awkwardly—talking about her feelings was not her strong suit. “I’d like to. You’re one of the few normal people on Tinder, it seems. One of the other guys asked me for sex before he’d even finished his coffee.”

“Wow. That’s keen.”

“Yeah. Obviously, my answer was no. I’m really looking for something more long-term.” She sighed, “Tinder definitely appears to be a place for hook-ups more than serious relationships.”

“You’re right. I’ve had my share of hook-ups on there.” He signalled the waiter to bring them more coffee. “So, want to catch a movie on the weekend? Maybe on Sunday?”

“Sure. What should we see?”

“You choose. I’ll pay.” He grinned as the waiter put his cup in front of him, and he thanked him. You could learn a lot from how people treated wait staff in restaurants, and Richard was shaping up to be a real keeper.

“So, spill,” he said, pulling her attention to his face. “I want to hear every crazy Tinder story you have.”

“Oh, you’ll be here all night. I only joined up on New Year’s Day, which means a month of the madness. I could already write a book.”

“Come on, then. Tell me, what’s your record for meeting up in one day?

“Honestly?”

“Yes. I’ll go first.  I met four girls on the same day. It was exhausting.”

She laughed at the look on his face and decided to be brave and tell him. “Well, my record is four, as well. The Saturday we met, you were number four.”

“Ooh, and you kept me around! I’m flattered.”

“Sorry to rain on your parade, but you shouldn’t be flattered. Two of the first three were insane, and one didn’t show up.”

“Wow. How to deflate my ego in a matter of seconds!”

“Sorry.”

“It must be because I walked you to your car, huh? Chivalry and all that?”

She snickered as she thought of the last two Saturdays and the five separate occasions that one of her dates had insisted on walking her to her car. She’d been round and round the block in the last few weeks—so many times that she could probably name each of her neighbours on different streets, by now. “It’s definitely not that.”

“So, you’ve had dates in the last few weeks. How’d they turn out?”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” she asked as he started to laugh.

“Who would have thought I’d be the most normal from a big bunch?” He chuckled again and she joined in until they were both giggling like children.

She laughed even harder when she realised she could never tell him that Cindy had bailed her up on the third Saturday and asked her if she was sleeping with each of the men she’d left the café with!

 

***

 

“What the hell do you mean we’re going shark diving?” Adrenaline rushed through Jordan’s body as she stared at Peter with a horrified look on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me this was your plan?”

He looked guilty, but not guilty enough to convince her that this wasn’t part of his regular routine to screen his dates. “My last girlfriend never did what I wanted to do. She wasn’t into extreme sports or anything more exciting than a trip to a different supermarket than the one she usually visited. I want more than that this time around.” He pointed at the shark cage being lowered into the water as Jordan’s fingers clenched tightly around the metal railing. “I want to see how you handle extreme stress before I go any further with this relationship.” He smiled at her, willing her to understand.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She flicked her eyes up to the clouds above, fighting back tears of fury and fear. “You didn’t think to put on your profile that you wanted someone who was into extreme sports, as well? Wouldn’t that have been simpler than this charade?”

She glared at him as she thought about the start of their morning. He’d met her at the boat, complimented her on her outfit, and they’d come aboard and met the other couples. Jordan thought they’d all been dressed fairly casually, and she’d definitely been confused when the captain had them all get into wetsuits. It wasn’t until the shark cage was winched over from God knew where that she realised she’d been tricked. Now there was no way out of taking her turn without causing a scene. She turned away from him as she examined the cage sloshing around in the choppy ocean.

“Sorry. I thought it would be fun.”

“Well, are you having fun now, knowing that we’re not compatible, but that we have to spend the rest of the afternoon together? Didn’t you think for one second how I might feel about this?”

“I guess not.”

“You’re a dick. I’m deleting Tinder the second I get home,” she muttered to herself as she watched a couple listen to the instructions from the staff and then climb into the cage. They both looked terrified, and Jordan wondered what had caused them to book this tour. Her heart sat in her throat as she watched the captain stir up the water and throw some fish in to get the sharks to come closer. This was the last place she ever expected to be today.

Pushing thoughts aside of what would happen to them if their boat were to sink after they’d attracted all these sharks to the area, she considered her options. She knew she could sit this out if she insisted. Peter would sulk, but she didn’t owe him an explanation. He’d paid for this trip, though, and it might be the only chance in her life she ever got to do something as crazy as this.

It might be the only time, because you might die today. She squeezed her eyes shut and summoned the courage to go through with it. Opening them and looking around at the boat decked out with safety equipment eased her mind slightly, and she was tempted to give it a try. Decide, either way. Stop being a baby. You’re either in or out.

Peter had assumed that she wouldn’t be joining him and was standing, waiting for the safety brief. She walked over to stand beside him, careful to keep her footing as the boat moved up and down on the waves.

He glanced at her and hope filled his eyes. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m doing this because it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You and I are not going to see each other again after today—this was a really shitty thing to do.”

 

***

 

Emily, Andrea, and Shelly stared at her as she told the story of her shark experience. They’d alternated between squeals of terror and eye rolling disgust at Peter’s assumptions, and had now been silenced as she described her terror in the cage.

“I’ve never had scuba diving gear on before—never been stuck in a cage of any sort, on land or under water. I was sure I was going to die. The sharks were so close, and all I could think about was those online videos where the day goes wrong and the shark gets into the cage. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to be having way too much fun. I swear I could hear his gleeful squealing underwater. I can’t believe he would reject a totally suitable date because she didn’t want to scare the crap out of herself every weekend.”

“Well, if you go by the list we made, you’ll be rejecting guys who don’t have cars or who aren’t taller than you. It’s kind of the same thing, isn’t it?” Andrea was never one to hide her thoughts.

“I guess it is, but jeez, Andrea, you said the list was a good idea!” She pushed her friend’s arm and they all laughed. Jordan waved her phone at them. “I’ve deleted Tinder, too, thank you very much. It’s been shit since day one.”

“Oh no, you didn’t,” Andrea said. “What about that hot guy from the café you told us about?”

“It wasn’t him, remember? Someone else used his pic, although I’m still not convinced he wasn’t lying about that.” She crinkled her eyebrows as she thought about Luke. Every so often, his model good looks popped into her head, and she remembered she’d been unable to find his card. She then remembered the pushbike and all thoughts of him went away.

Emily tried next. “What about Richard? You like him, don’t you?”

“I do, but I don’t need Tinder, now that I’ve met him. He was the only normal one to come out of that whole bunch. I tried for weeks and went on eight dates, three of which stood me up. I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

“What are you going to do now? It’s only the end of January—are you giving up already?”

“No, I’m not giving up. Nothing has changed about my plan. I still hate being single, and I still want to walk down the aisle. I’ll have to get creative about meeting Mr Right, that’s all. Trust me, he is not on Tinder.”

“Maybe it’s Richard.” It was Shelly’s turn to speak up. “You might still be looking, but he’s right there in front of you.”

“You could be right. We have another date tomorrow night, and I do really like him. So, we’ll see. I’m just worried that, if I settle down and assume we’ll eventually be exclusive, I’ll be jumping the gun.”

“Maybe you should go on one of those wedding shows,” she suggested.

“Ooh yes,” Emily squealed. “That would be so cool. You could go on that show where you marry a complete stranger—or that awful dating one where they pair you up with your complete opposite.”

“I could, but those were all filmed ages ago, if we’re seeing them now. How about I stick to meeting a good, solid guy who’ll treat me right?”

They nodded their agreement, and the waitress approached their table to tell them their movie was going to start. They grabbed their bags and headed inside, where they were shown to their seats.

Shelly whispered to Jordan as they waited their turn, “Is there anything better than Gold Class movies with the girls?”

“Well, I imagine your wedding will be better,” she whispered back, “but I know what you mean.”

“Oh, that reminds me, girls.” She waved her hands at Emily and Andrea. “Boyd and I are having our engagement party at the beginning of March. We’ll totally need your help to get it organised.”