Page 15 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“So?” I ask Jonathan as I walk into his office at one minute to ten. “What did you think?”
“It’s clever,” he says, with less enthusiasm than I’d been hoping for.
“And funny?” I suggest. Iknowit’s funny. Lottie proofread it for me. She said it was hilarious.
“Yes, it’s funny,” Jonathan acknowledges. I sense a “but” coming. “But…”
“But?”
“It’s a little bleak, Anna.”
“Bleak?”
“Here, where you detail a future of virtual boyfriends who fulfill all your emotional needs and a drawer full of sex toys to fulfill your physical ones—that’s bleak.”
“I was being facetious.”
Jonathan takes his glasses off and pinches the skin between his brows. “Our readers don’t want facetious; they want hope. They want to feel empathy, a connection. They want to feel optimistic, not depressed.”
“Depressed? Jonathan, come on. It’s wry!”
“Crispin didn’t like it,” Jonathan says, his face somber. “This isn’t a judgment about you as a journalist, Anna. I just don’t think you’re in the headspace to come at this from the angle he’s looking for.”
Panic floods through me. I genuinely thought he was going to love it.
“You’re a great writer, but being a columnist is a more personal undertaking. You need to be willing to show a little of who you are, to be vulnerable on the page. This piece tells me nothing about you, your divorce, how you feel about it. It all feels rather…well, snide.”
Vulnerable? Vulnerable!If he only knew just how vulnerable I feelall the time. Having to be strong for Jess and Ethan, to not go to pieces when I learn Dan has moved in with Sylvie, to hide how much it hurts when he says he’s in love. To have the financial strain of running a household entirely on my shoulders. To question whether I am even lovable now, since the fun-loving, carefree girl I was no longer exists. Then I picture Ethan’s little face, his excitement at telling me about Tilly’s dad, and I think about this job that’s kept me sane through everything. I will not be labeled dead wood.
“I do have another angle,” I say before giving myself time to fully think it through. “I’m not sure online dating is for me. What if I set out to meet someone the old-fashioned way, only dated people I met in real life?” I pause; Jonathan looks intrigued. “My son suggested setting me up with his classmate’s dad because we’re both divorced and we both hate bikes.”
Jonathan bursts out laughing, a genuine laugh. “How to find a man in ten dates…chosen by your children,” he says, moving his hand through the air as though it’s a headline on a billboard.
“Um, well, they wouldn’t all need to be chosen by my kids, that was just one example.”
“No, it needs to be your kids, that’s the unique selling point.It’s brilliant. Just the kind of thing Crispin is after. It’s a fresh take, no one else has done it.”Did I pitch this? I don’t think I did.“And you have to go out with whoever they suggest.” Jonathan is still talking. “Be open-minded and vulnerable. Take it seriously. No cynicism.”
“No cynicism,” I say, crossing my fingers behind my back.Why am I agreeing to this? This is the worst idea I’ve ever had.
As I’m wrestling with what I’ve just signed up for there’s a knock on the door and Will’s head appears around it.
“Ah, Will, perfect timing. Anna here has just bought herself ten more weeks on the dating column. Ten dates, found from real life, all chosen by her children. An anti-online-dating column,” Jonathan says, rubbing his palms together.
“Maybe not ten,” I mutter. “I could start with five, see how I go.”
“I like it,” Will says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He does not like it. I can tell by the pulse in his jaw. He’s annoyed he’s lost his chance to steal my column.
As I’m savoring the sweetness of victory, Will walks into the room and takes a seat in the chair next to me. Why is he sitting down? This ismymeeting.
“Though people do like to hear both perspectives when it comes to dating. Maybe I could do an online column as a contrast. We could pick a theme to write about each week, do a his-and-hers, online/offline, cover all bases,” Will suggests, his face animated.
“Cover all bases?” I repeat, looking back and forth between Will and Jonathan.
“Oh yes,” Jonathan enthuses. “The working mum looking for love in real life, versus the man about town who only has time for the apps.” Jonathan grins. “You’re onto something there, Will, and with both of you on the back page, we’d be appealing to the broadest possible range of readers.”
What? You’ve got to be kidding me.“Why does there need to be a second column at all? Isn’t my idea enough to stand on its own?” I ask, sounding like a petulant child. I don’t know why I’m so annoyed about this, but it feels like I had my eye on something good and Will just can’t let me have it.
“A rising tide lifts all ships, Anna. I’ll let you guys hammer out the details. I have lunch with Bonhams, toodle pip.” Jonathan stands up, grabs his Burberry trench coat and trilby, then pauses in the door. “ ‘Philosopher,’ nine letters, fifth letter T?”
