Page 23 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“Fourteen-year-olds can’t work in cafés. He said you were pretty,” Jess says, eyes wide with conviction.
“Waiters say that kind of thing to everyone. They’re just trying to get a good tip.” Caleb is undeniably attractive; twenty-five-year-old me would have clocked him immediately. But I’ve never asked a stranger out in real life, and someone this young and good-looking feels like an ambitious place to start.
When he brings our food over, Jess nudges me beneath the table. “My mum wants to ask you something.”
My throat starts to constrict and I’m filled with a sudden urge to run from the restaurant. “No, I don’t, it’s fine,” I say, shaking my head at Jess, then giving Caleb an embarrassed look.
“Are you single by any chance?” Jess asks him, bold as brass.
“Yes,” Caleb says, looking at me. “Don’t look so nervous. Whatever the question—the answer is yes,” he says, and when he grins, he looks like a rock star. Jess laughs and taps the table with her hands.
“You shouldn’t say yes when you don’t know what the question is,” Ethan points out. “What if the question was ‘Will you poke your own eye out with this spoon?’ ” He holds up his spoon in a threatening manner, and I reach across the table to press it back down onto the table.
“True,” says Caleb. “Let’s hope that’s not the question.”
He looks at me and winks.Is he flirting with me?Jumping to my feet, I beckon Caleb across to the service area. If this conversation is really happening, I don’t want to have it in front of my children.
“Sorry about that,” I say, feeling flustered. “I’m a journalist, I’m writing a column where my kids choose people for me to ask out and, well, do you maybe want to have a coffee sometime?” I feel my cheeks flush, but then a rush of adrenaline at the fact that I managed to get the words out.
“Sure,” he says, running a hand back through his hair. He looks delighted.
“How old are you?” I ask, smiling now.
“How old are you?” he counters.
“Probably too old for you.”
Caleb pulls clean knives and forks from a tray on the counter. “What’s your cutoff, age-wise?”
“Well, I’m thirty-three,” I fib. “So, I don’t know, twenty-six?” I don’t know why I just lied. Maybe I want to see if he’ll believe I could be thirty-three?
“Lucky for you, I’m twenty-seven,” he says.
He’s twenty-seven? He doesn’t look twenty-seven. But then, stones, glass houses, and all that. Maybe I shouldn’t dwell on the age question.
“I’m Anna. You don’t have to call me, but here’s my number if you’re ever bored and fancy a vegan beer. Sorry.” I scribble my phone number on a napkin, and Caleb reaches for my hand.
“Stop apologizing. I would love to go out with you.”
Now I am the one who feels young and inexperienced, a clueless child who doesn’t know how this works, while he is gloriously mature and straightforward.
“Did you give him your number?” Jess asks, once I’m back at the table.
“I did.”
She nods, something resembling respect in her eyes. “Way to go, Mum.”
Google searches:
Is it bad to lie about your age?
Age difference, George Clooney and Amal Clooney
What shampoo does Amal Clooney use?
*Orders shampoo*
Chapter 9
