Chapter Text
“Fucking Sassy,” Rebecca’s shiny phone landed with a soft thump on her mustard coloured office sofa. She shouldn’t be surprised. Even before their 6 year friendship hiatus Sassy had been, to put it mildly, as reliable as the BBC weather forecast. Of course, she loved her friend dearly but could simultaneously fill a phone book with all the times Sassy had uprooted their plans. If phone books still existed. Fuck, now she felt old. Phone books, wild puffy eighties hair, cheap cigarettes, all things of a long gone past.
The recent rekindling of her ‘sisterhood’ with Flo had not only reignited some sparkly magic from their eventful teenage years, where they had rebelliously pushed against the strict constraints of their upbringing, it had also allowed her to slide right back into the same old worn out groove of being at the mercy of her friend’s spur of the moment desires.
It was Sassy’s idea to go to this idiotic speed dating event and now she had elegantly conveyed through text message that the previously irreconcilable issues with one of her latest beaus had been smoothed over and felt it was ‘inappropriate’ to join. What the hell? When was Florence Collins ever appropriate?
A knock on the door jolted her out of her anger infused state. His eyebrows walked through the door before he did. It was Roy, looking as frustrated as ever.
“What a fucking idiot,” he bellowed as he strode past Rebecca and let himself fall into the sofa.
“What did he do this time?” Rebecca usually wasn’t in the mood for Roy’s daily rant about their new coach but today they were exactly at the same level of grumpiness and she loved to wallow in it together.
“He completely fucked up the line-up for our game against Millwall. Obisanya as a striker for fuck’s sake. He hasn’t hit a decent ball this whole season.” Rebecca’s thoughts trailed off as he started listing all the disastrous decisions Coach Johnson apparently has made, laced with a proper Roy Kent amount of fucks.
The thought about the next game against Millwall made the pit in her stomach grow tenfold. Ever since Rupert had bought that team at the start of the season, she was dreading their first stand-off. Just after their divorce, when her first executive decision at the club had been to fire George, she had momentarily entertained the thought of replacing him with the biggest idiot she could find and just completely tank AFC Richmond. Winning the club in the divorce settlement had been pure power play, taking away something her arrogant bastard of an ex-husband loved above all.
She hadn’t contemplated for a millisecond what it would mean to manage a premier league team and for all she cared British football could go to hell. However, she had quickly realised that ruining Richmond would hand the press and Rupert yet another stick to hit her with and she surely didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Vastly improving the club under her leadership would be a much sweeter revenge. For her and maybe for all women who somehow always get blamed for men doing shitty things.
Nothing came easy though. George had been an absolute prick and a mediocre coach at best but after hiring and firing Van Hulst, Brewfort and now employing Johnson as the third gaffer in 2 years, the team had significantly gotten worse. The cherry on the cake had been the relegation to the Championship League, bringing all kinds of financial repercussions to Nelson Road, in addition to the contant mockery of the press. That’s why she had persuaded Roy to take the job as an assistant coach after he had begrudgingly accepted his career as a player was now behind him.
He was the only one she really trusted around her. They were kindred spirits, equally grumpy and cynical, taking no bullshit from anyone.
“Can’t you just fucking fire him?” Roy’s conclusion jammed her out of her musings.
“Fire another one? The press would surely love that! Rebecca Welton, not being able to keep a single man around.” She scoffed, the British media was so darn predictable.
“What do you care? Just don’t read that rubbish.” Roy’s eyes were on her, it was hard to read his thoughts. He sighed, deep lines edged into his forehead. “I don’t know anymore, Rebecca. We keep hitting a brick wall with these coaches. And now it’s like we’re fucking poison. Only complete idiots want to take a shot at Richmond and no one wants to..” He stopped his monologue when he seemed to realise what he was about to say.
“Work for me?” She finished his sentence. “You can say it. I’ve built up quite the ice queen reputation, giving it that Disney girl a run for her money.”
A rare smile broke through Roy’s stern face. “I wish they knew how funny you are.” He reached over to tap her knee. “I’m just being my grumpy old self, as Keeley would say. Don’t worry, Johnson is not that bad. At least he is a semi-decent human being, unlike the previous ones. I’ll make it work.”
Rebecca forced the corners of her mouth upwards. She knew he was trying. “So how’s Keeley?” She asked, wanting to change to a lighter topic.
“We’re good,” his words were sparse but she could tell from his face that he was happy. It had taken them long enough to get together. Even though Rebecca didn’t know all the details of their prolonged courtship, she suspected Roy’s animosity towards Keeley’s ex Jamie had something to do with it. Even though Roy might be the closest she had to a friend here at Richmond, it didn’t mean they were trading info about their personal lives. She had tried to build up a friendly report with Keeley but it had always felt forced and Roy had disclosed his girlfriend felt rather intimidated by her.
“Ok, I’ll go check on the lads,” Roy announced in his characteristic deep growl as he pushed himself from the sofa.
“Of course, off you go,” Rebecca said politely and watched him stride out of her office. She wished she felt confident enough to open up more to Roy. How she wished she could ask his advice about this speed dating thing or just simply share her worries and fears with someone, anyone. He might just tell her she just needed a good shag and maybe he’d be right about that. Although, getting those wasn’t the problem. But God, the men she had consorted with were just painfully dull and stupid.
A familiar hesitant knock softly made its way through her door. “Yes, Higgins?”
Leslie Higgings poked his bespectacled face through the door crack. “Uhm Miss Welton, I reviewed those sponsor proposals and added my comments. Would you like to go through them together or shall I just leave them at your desk?”
Rebecca waved her slightly nervous director of football operations in. “You can leave them here, I will look them over and get back to you.”
Leslie nodded and shuffled toward her desk. Even though their professional relationship had softened since the beginning, it was still awkward and strained. She couldn’t help having a hard time forgiving Leslie Higgings for his betrayal during her marriage. The sad part was that she had truly considered him one of her few close friends and finding out he was just entertaining her, like a fucking chihuahua who needed to be out of the house so the master could have his girls over, had truly broken her heart. If he wasn’t so bloody excellent at his job, she would have gotten rid of him first.
“Thank you, Higgings”, she heard the icy undertone in her own intonation, not being able to warm up her words. No wonder everyone perceived her this way. Maybe she was incapable of forming any normal relationship by now, her heart simply having too many cracks to ever retain love and trust without the fear of it being inevitably shattered into a million pieces.
When Higgings had scurried out of her office, leaving behind a stack of papers, she reached for her phone again, spotting a new message from Flo.
Broke up again, speed dating is back on!
Fucking Sassy!
————
“That was pretty spectacular fellas!” Ted high fived the quarterback and bumped his knuckles against the black leather glove offered up by the running back as the players spilled back into the locker room.
He nudged Beard’s shoulder with his own, “what did I tell ya?”
“That peanut butter and jelly is the best invention since sliced bread?” His assistant coach deadpanned.
“Oh yeah that’s as obvious as Beyoncé winning a Grammy, but I meant turning this team around. With Derek as wide receiver and Duke as a running back, we are pretty unbeatable. Don’t ya think?”
His long time buddy nodded, which was as much of a confirmation you could get.
Ted’s eyes drifted over the big sweaty men, who were starting to change out of their protective gear, toward the crooked little yellow sign with blue letters that hung over the door. The guys had mocked him mercilessly when he put it up, laughing at the simplicity and apparent cheesiness of the handwritten word, but lately he had spotted more and more of these hyper masculine men quickly tapping his ‘Believe’ sign before the game.
There was a calmness in the locker room, much different from the tense and often aggressive atmosphere they encountered a little less than 2 years ago, at the start of their tenure at the London Warriors.
Back in 2019, during a particularly rough winter day in Kansas, when Beard had floated his interest in the invitation from an American Football Club halfway around the world, Ted had answered with a clear ‘‘no way, Jose!” It had been unthinkable to leave his wife and son go to work in London. But when he had amusingly told Michelle over dinner, she had reacted with worrying enthusiasm and encouraged him to take it.
So he went. When the plane engined hummed around him, comfortably seated in his Business Class seat, he knew deep down this would be the beginning of the end for his marriage. The pain and guilt over his failure had eased by now but having Henry live an ocean away still hurt like hell. Fortunately the boy would be visiting again soon and Ted couldn’t wait to take him to all of London’s museums or just simply play board games at his flat’s kitchen table on rainy days.
“So, are we still on for tonight? You are not chickening out?” His best friend asked when they got back into their office, their desks pushed together like they had done everywhere they worked. The rest of the coaching staff occupied the scattered desks in the adjoining room.
“Yeah well Coach, tell me again how this human trade show works.” Ted muttered while flipping aimlessly through the paperwork on his desk.
“It’s simple Coach, ten men, ten women, 5 minutes per person and match means phone number.”
Ted looked up from the papers he just shuffled from he left to the right side of his desk.“I appreciate the succinct explanation and can you remind me again why we are doing this?”
Beard sat down and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the wooden surface while crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes peeked out from under his KC cap. “Because you, my friend, need to get out there and dip your big toe in the British dating pool. And I need to forget about Jane.” He added the last part under his breath.
He wasn’t wrong. Ted had put off dating ever since he had signed those divorce papers. It just didn’t feel right. It actually still didn’t feel right. Being alone was not ideal and he missed someone to love and care for but he wasn’t sure if he was in the right place for all of that now.
He could however support a friend.
“Alright, I guess talking to some new folks might not be the worst way to spend an evening. I can collect a whole lot of first and best concerts out there. Will be fun!”
It was evident in his eyes that Beard saw right through him but it didn’t matter. Spending a Saturday night not curled up on the sofa watching a romcom alone might be a good thing.
———
“You are sure this event is age appropriate, right?” Rebecca fiddled with her bag strap on the backseat while looking out the car window, not really seeing the buildings rushing by.
“What do you mean, Stinky?” Sassy sounded amused. “Isn’t anything over 16 perfectly legal by law?”
Her friend burst out laughing upon seeing Rebecca’s horrified face. “Christ Sassy, that’s utterly disgusting. Please tell me these men at least know who Freddie Mercury was.”
“You tried old before and that wasn’t a smashing hit, to put it mildly, so maybe young suits you better,” Sassy pushed her hand playfully against Rebecca’s shoulder. “Hey I’m just taking the piss. It’s a 40-50 years age bracket. The second-hand rack.” Her laugh filled the car again. “You know I like my men slightly sad and broken.”
Rebecca drew in a large breath. That was the last thing she wanted, sad divorced men looking for a shoulder to cry on. Fuck, this was the shittiest idea ever. Would it be too late to just cancel? She had put on a nice dress in a bid to boost her confidence, hair down to appear relaxed and her favourite lipstick to make sure everything was perfectly in place and no one could see how she dreaded making small talk with men she wasn’t remotely interested in. They were all arseholes anyway. She had yet to meet a man who didn’t turn out to be an absolute prick.
Sassy sensed her apprehension. “Jesus Stinky, this is supposed to be fun. And don’t even think of cancelling on me. I really don’t want to take two men home tonight.” Sassy’s giggle made her relax a little bit. Maybe she should just be less frigid and go with the flow.
Ugh, go with the flow? She cringed at her own thoughts. Why wasn’t she at home, with a glass of wine on her sofa, watching something mindless on the telly?
—————
“Ok, showtime,” Ted quipped in an attempt to feel more at ease. His eyes shifted to Beard beside him, looking surprisingly dapper in his black shirt, black vest and grey pants. Ted had contemplated dressing up for the evening but after taking a peek at his closet he ended up with his safe khakis and a white button down under a blue sweater. At least he would feel comfortable that way.
“Yeah, let’s do it baby!” Beard’s excitement sounded forced. It was clear as day this was a desperate attempt to forcefully move past Jane. He wasn’t sure whether it was a healthy coping mechanism but everyone dealt with heartbreak in a different way.
He himself had not really felt any interest in dating after he and Michelle fell apart. He couldn’t imagine ever being able to fully love someone ever again without the worry of it slipping away again, like sand through his fingers. This was actually the first step onto the dating scene again and he still felt completely unprepared. Sure, he loved talking and meeting new people but these circumstances felt much more forced than he preferred them to be. Did he even remember how to flirt?
They signed up at the entrance with a lady named Barbara, with whom Ted made some small talk about the rules of the evening while throwing in a speed dating joke he didn’t even know he had in him. At least he made the hostess laugh, it was a start, right?
Both of them received a sticker with their name and number. Under Ted’s name someone had scribbled a ‘9’ and under a neatly written ‘Beard’ it showed a 10. Ted smiled inwardly at his friend’s insistence on using the nickname he had made up for him ages ago, completely ignoring his birth name. His sticker would surely be a conversation starter tonight. It made him wonder what would happen if Beard ever decided to shave. Although, that was a fairly unlikely scenario. He imagined he would not even recognise his best buddy if he’d ever show up with a hairless face.
The process was simple. The women remained at their table, which were marked 1 to 10 and the men started at the number assigned to them. After 5 minutes a buzzer would urge them to move to the next number up, or in Beard’s case to number 1.
In between they needed to mark on their sheet if they would like to match with the person they just had a 5 minute conversation with. He wondered how one could know after such a short amount of time.
The venue was a nondescript bar, with tables separated by 3 feet each, a chair on either side. There had been an attempt at creating a romantic atmosphere with some fake candles, like a teenager trying to decorate for a low budget valentine’s dinner prepared by their mom. Or maybe it was simply the excruciating sadness of dating in your fourties.
Ted quickly scanned the room and was relieved to see the women all seemed of similar age as him and most of them looked friendly and interesting enough to enquire about their favourite movies and books. He decided he would make a game out of it for himself to see who could give the most surprising answers. He would keep score on who’d come up with something completely contrary to his expectation. That would be fun.
He moved toward table nine where a distracted red haired woman was seated, ‘Mary’ was written in black marker on her sticker. She hardly noticed him sitting down, too busy rummaging through her giant bag. He could hear the rustle of keys, candy wrappers and pens emerge from the beige leather pouch. Beard was seated to his right, across from a lady in a purple sweater who was apparently named Caroline and looked very pleased at the sight of her first conversational partner. He quickly glanced to his left and caught the green eyes of the woman he would meet last. She looked nervous, waiting for her first assigned 5 minute ‘date’. He smiled at her while shrugging his shoulders. “I have no idea why I’m here either.” He whispered loud enough for her to hear, hoping to put her a little at ease. He was delighted to see her lips curl up at him right before she shifted her attention to a guy in a blue sports jacket that took his place across from her. Ted moved his gaze back to Mary who was finally done with her bag and looked at him expectantly.
“Hi, I’m Ted” he held out his hand when a little buzzer indicated the start of this bizarre ritual.
———
The moment Rebecca walked into the venue, she wanted to turn around and leave. It all just breathed profound mediocracy. The stupid handwritten sticker she had to stick on her silk top, the bland decoration in the bar and the sad looking tables, lined up like she and Sassy were here to visit inmates.
“This looks bloody pathetic, why are we here again?” She whispered over to Flo who happily stuck the sticker saying ‘Sassy’ on her colourful Diane von Fursteberg wrap dress. Rebecca couldn’t help rolling her eyes at her friend’s use of her nickname on the tag instead of Florence but she guessed it would work for some men. In many ways she was jealous of Sassy and her happy-go-lucky attitude, it was the reason she had gravitated toward her as a teenager. But it also made her feel like the boring stick in the mud who simply couldn’t relax and have a good time.
“To find some decent men to have fun with,” Sassy replied, louder than Rebecca cared for. Her friend was never shy about what she wanted, she had even hooked Rebecca up with some one night stands. Although normally out of character for Rebecca, the experiences hadn’t been entirely unpleasant and definitely helped her feel like a desirable human being again. They had also left her feeling empty and strangely unsatisfied on a deeper level. She hadn’t even remotely liked these men and she just knew if she ever exchanged more than some superficial chats with them, they’d reveal themselves to be complete and utter dicks.
“What’s your number again?” Sassy craned her neck to look at Rebecca’s tag. “Oh marvelous, we’re right next to each other and I’ll have first pick.” She stuck out her tongue and winked at Rebecca as they sat down at table 7 and 8.
As one would have guessed, most women were already seated when the men trickled in. Rebecca tried not to be too disappointed at the quality. Some actually seemed half decent. Well, not the guy sitting down at table three with his hair slicked back and a shirt so tight, his nipples were working hard to free themselves. Or the guy at table 5 whose loud boisterous voice was announcing the latest wins of his stock portfolio to the waitress taking his drink order.
Rebecca wondered for the umpteenth time if it would be impolite to simply walk out.
A blonde man in a turtleneck approached Sassy, eagerly grabbing her hand before sitting down. Her friend’s smile immediately broadened as she quickly glanced at Rebecca to convey ‘See, it isn’t so bad!’.
Rebecca’s gaze absentmindedly shifted back toward the entrance and clocked two fresh male attendees walking in together, extracting laughs from the hostess while putting on their stickers. They came across fairly normal except, she squinted her eyes, was the name of the guy with the beard actually ‘Beard’? Ok, they must be complete weirdos or just taking the piss out of the whole thing. Rebecca hoped it was the latter.
The weirdos both sat down at the tables next to her, already occupied by women waiting for the strange evening to commence. The one seated diagonally from her had a goofy moustache, possibly cultivated especially for this evening, wrongly assuming it would charm the ladies. Men are ridiculous like that. She tried to steal a glance at his tag, half expecting it to say ‘Stache’ or something similar cringeworthy but instead it was unexpectedly ordinary; ‘Ted’. He looked up and she found herself staring right into Ted’s eyes.
He smiled and shrugged casually at her, “I have no idea why I’m here either.”
She was caught off guard by his strange accent, not being able to place it, but involuntarily smiled at his accurate description of how she was feeling. Before she could say anything back, a man with curly hair and a sports jacket slid down into the opposite chair and the buzzer went off.
Here we go.
———-
Ted scribbled another ‘No’ on his sheet as he shuffled onto table 4. It wasn’t all that bad. Some conversations had been sufficiently pleasant. His Star Wars discussion with Caroline, in which they hotly debated why anyone would choose to live on Tatooine when even junkyard spaceships could get you to much better planets, had been surprisingly fun. Also, the conversation with a woman named Miranda had been truly enjoyable quoting lines from ‘Cheers’ back and forth. But despite some common grounds and genuine heartfelt laughs, nothing really felt like it was worth a second meeting.
He tried to catch Beard’s eyes, interested to learn if things were looking more fruitful for him but his buddy was already seated with the next contender.
Ted’s next partner was named Natalie. She had shoulder length brown hair and a friendly oval face. He stretched out his hand. “Hi I’m Ted, nice to meet ya.”. She immediately laughed. “Oh my, that’s an accent you don’t hear much around here. Where are you from?”
“Kansas,” he replied dutifully. It hadn’t been the first time this question opened up the obligatory 5 minute conversation about his home state but he really didn’t want to be stuck on superficial info about location.
“So tell me, what’s your favourite book?” By now he had learned to quickly get to the point to make the chat more interesting.
“Oh, interesting question Ted from Kansas. If I tell you, you’ll laugh,” her shy smile was endearing and Ted was not daft enough to not notice she was a very attractive lady.
“Oh, colour me intrigued,” he replied. “Let me guess,” he narrowed his eyes, pretending to read the title from her face. “I think it’s Harry Potter, you strike me as a Gryffindor, judging from your scarlet shirt.”
Was he flirting? He wasn’t sure. Was it even possible to flirt with a Harry Potter reference? Maybe he was trying awkwardly if he still had some game left.
She laughed out loud. “Oh I used to love Hogwarths but I might have outgrown it just a wee bit.”
“Really?” He cocked his head. “I don’t think anybody really outgrows Harry Potter. I know I didn’t.”
Natalie laughed again, “You are absolutely right. But I think my taste has taken a rather darker turn.”
Ted raised his eyebrows, “Oh, you mean like Handsmaid’s Tale level of dystopian darkness? I mean, that stuff is pretty rough to read.”
A firm head shake confirmed he was fishing in the wrong waters.
The woman across from him grinned wickedly before she spilled the beans. “I’m quite into these Karen Slaughter murder-thriller books, can’t get enough of them. The more violent and bloody the better. Especially when it’s men that are the victims. Gives me some sense of girl power.”
The look she gave him was slightly unsettling, a cold rush crept down his spine. He blinked twice, thinking of a reaction before being saved by the buzzer. He quickly stretched out his hand, thanked her for her time before jotting down a large ‘no’ on his sheet, triple underlined. He really didn’t want to risk being murdered in his sleep.
Thank God there was a break now. This dating thing was draining, even for a loquacious man like himself
————-
Rebecca stared at her sheet as everyone drifted towards the restrooms to make the most of the 10 minute break. Up til now she had marked down ‘no’ behind every name.
It wasn’t that the men were necessarily bad, they were just all so terribly bland. Most of them just talked about their jobs or even brought up how horrible their ex-wives were. Not a single one had asked anything substantial about her life except checking if she had some baggage in the shape of kids. And she was only halfway the parade of subpar men tonight.
“How’s it going Stinky?” Sassy leaned over to peek at her sheet. “Really?” She commented, glancing over her collection of negative feedback.
“I need a drink to get through the rest of this night, let’s find the bar. Is no one serving drinks in this hellish place?” Rebecca neatly folded her paper and slid it into her bag, preventing other curious eyes from passing judgment. “How are they expecting us to survive this completely sober?”
Sassy bumped her slender shoulder into Rebecca’s arm. “Stop whingeing Stinky. We’ll definitely hit the bar but let’s first visit the ladies’ room for some gossip!” She winked at Rebecca as she made her war to the restrooms.
Sassy wasn’t wrong. The ladies room had turned into a gossipy beauty salon where women were touching up their lipstick, redoing their hair but most of all reviewing all men that had visited their table tonight.
“Did he do that fake Italian accent with you too?” A woman with a high pitched voice shrieked through the crowded ladies room, her voice bouncing off the cheap porcelain tiles.
“Oh yes, and I’m sure his name is actually Edward, instead of Eduardo.” A brown haired woman replied amused while meticulously applying some fresh mascara, making her eyelashes look dark and heavy and leaving little black dots just below her thinly plucked eyebrows.
“Speaking of foreigners, I quite liked that bearded American, a tad mysterious.” The lady with the mascara dots said, while having moved on to powdering her cheeks a strange orange colour.
Rebecca smiled inwardly while she and Sassy finally found a spot at the mirror, pulling lipsticks from their purse.
“What about the other American? I put a big Yes on my sheet for that moustache man. I’m usually not into facial hair but he was surprisingly cute and funny.” A woman with short strawberry blonde hair smiled at herself in the mirror as she swiped some freshly applied lipstick from the rim of her lower lip.
“Oh no he’s mine!” Another woman wiggled her finger at the dark haired lady. “The only interesting conversation I had in 2 months. Don’t take that away from me.”
“So,” Sassy started when they made it to the bar. “It seems the best is yet to come.”
Rebecca’s eyebrow lifted in a manner that must have made it clear that she had no idea what her friend was talking about while the bartender placed 2 wines in front of them.
“The Americans,” Sassy nudged her shoulder against Rebecca’s. “They are apparently the hottest property tonight. Did I mention I like exotic foreign men?”
A sudden chuckle almost made Rebecca spit out her well-earned but horribly average Cabernet.
“I wouldn’t call them exactly exotic, Sassy,” Rebecca shook her head. “And besides, didn’t you already have 2 other men marked on your sheet?”
Sassy pulled out her paper and studied it like she hadn’t just filled it out herself. “Well, dating is eventually just a numbers game, isn’t it?” She tipped her glass against Rebecca’s and winked right before walking back to her table, while the sound of the buzzer filled the room.
Rebecca shook her head, digging into her purse to pull out the sheet filled with “No’s”, looking forward to add the last few to the collection and get the fuck out of there. While her eyes were fixed on locating the piece of paper, she forgot to look ahead and didn’t realise her mistake until she felt her hand slamming into someone.
“Oh shoot, I’m sorry!” A male voice called out as a hand reached out and wrapped around hers to help steady her glass, but not being able to prevent the red liquid from sloshing over the rim and soaking both their hands.
“Oh no it’s ok,” Rebecca muttered, pulling her hand away and putting the glass on a nearby high table before shaking the liquid from her fingers. She looked down where the liquid had dropped and saw splashes of red on some blue and white trainers.
“Oh shit, it’s on your shoes,” she exclaimed as she looked up at the guy who was apparently wearing trainers to a dating event.
“Oh don’t you worry, if this had happened to my OG1 Chicago Jordans that might have given me a small heart attack. Ya know, I waited in line for 2 hours outside the Bulls Stadium to get them autographed by the big man himself in the dead of winter. My big toe is still a little blueish if you’d look closely.”
He might as well have spoken a different language as she looked dumbfounded at the man in front of her. He quickly bent down and tried to unsuccessfully wipe the wine off his shoes with his thumb. Rebecca quickly recovered and reached back over to the bar to grab some napkins. It was the least she could do.
“Oh thanks, I appreciate it. Hope it didn’t hit you. I really shoulda watched out. I guess I tried to race to the bar quickly to get myself and my buddy a beer before this whole jamboree would start back up.” He got up and smiled apologetically at her while wiping the remnants of wine from his fingers, his moustache pulling up slightly at the right corner of his mouth.
“I’m ok, I should have watched where I was going. It wasn’t your fault.” She held out her hand to take his napkin so she could dispose of it together with her own on the high table. Instead he reached out and shook her hand. “I’m Ted,” he said. “Nice to meet you,” he peeked at her tag, “Rebecca.”
“Uhm yes, likewise. Well, I have to head back. I guess I’ll see you at my table at some point.” Her voice sounded weird to her own ears as she pulled her eyes away from his. He was clearly playing up his whole American spiel, trying to endear the British ladies with his folksy charm. That would not work on her, not in a million years.
“Sounds good!” He heard him call after her as she quickly released his hand and scurried off to table 8, where a bald guy in a jeans jacket was already waiting for her.
—————-
After a run to the restrooms, Ted felt the need for a nice cold beer. He and Beard had quickly compared notes and he was happy his friend had at least one ‘yes’ jotted down so far. It would be nice if he got something out of this. Even though Ted didn’t believe one could meet their soulmate on a night like this, a nice date would get Beard out of his Jane induced funk. Tonight reminded Ted of the cattle market he had once visited as a boy back in Kansas with his dad. Especially after catching some less savoury talk about ‘the quality of tonight’s stock’ in the restroom. He had overheard how a guy with a seemingly fake Italian accent talked mentioned a ‘hot blonde’ who was apparently ‘frigid and stuck up’ but he’d still expected to ‘do her.’
Ted wasn't a prude and hardly a stranger to locker room talk but he usually tried to steer the young men into a different direction. The overcompensating masculinity usually did not benefit their career and growth and hearing it from 40+ year old men just made it even sadder.
As he was musing about this, he suddenly felt something hitting him in the chest. Instinctively his hand reached out and found her fingers, clenched around a wobbling wine glass. It was the woman he had exchanged a few words with at the start of the evening.
He apologised as he spotted red wine on his sneakers. To make her feel better he heard himself mumbling something about that cold winter day at the United Center in Chicago, 1990 Maybe he didn’t care as much about them as his signed Jordans, the wine stain on his Carolina Blue’s wasn’t a pretty sight, so he quickly bent down to try to wipe them clean, being grateful for the napkin she handed to him.
Rebecca, as he learned from her name tag, still looked similarly nervous as she did at the start of the evening. He wondered if people were able to spot the same unease around his meticulously curated features. Ted knew he was a master in disguising his discomfort but maybe Rebecca assumed the same of herself. The quick look they exchanged before she hurried off to her table stayed with him far into his talk with the lady at table five.
It was nothing romantic or anything like that, of that he was sure. Pretty sure. But he did find himself looking forward to finally reaching table 8.
Shoot, still no beer though.