Page 71 of Snowed In with You

‘I’ll definitely need it. Good luck with finding Mr Emotionally Intelligent.’

Lucy smiled and ended the call, then poured herself another glass of wine, deciding that was probably enough if she was going to write herself a bio that was vaguely coherent. She’d earmarked today as Day One of her plan to start eating properly, sleeping alone and being open to relationships like a normal person. But she hadn’t expected to find the online dating landscape quite so overwhelming – she’d found both Anthony and Marco on Tinder, but that definitely wasn’t the kind of relationship she was looking for any more.

Since she had no idea when Tamsyn might call her, she clicked on TikTok to kill time. A week ago she’d watched a video of a woman trying on a wedding dress that looked just like the one she’d imagined she might wear one day, then fell down a rabbit hole of episodes of Say Yes to the Dress on YouTube. Now the algorithmic social media goblins had decided she was definitely getting married, so her feed was awash with suggested videos featuring wedding dresses and weight loss tips. Presumably the two went hand in hand, which was depressing in itself.

She casually scrolled to Nate’s page, and found two new videos – one of Nate travelling to Amsterdam for an LGBTQ+ charity gala, chatting on the Eurostar about how excited he was. Then a video of the event itself, where he performed a brilliant version of Elton and Kiki’s ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ with Sophie Ellis-Bextor. Too late, thought Lucy. But I’m getting there. She reminded herself that the experience with Nate had been a good thing – it had shown her that she could experience deeper feelings for someone than just a sexual connection. And now she was about to embark on a journey to find someone else who made her feel the way he had. It couldn’t only happen once in a lifetime, surely?

Her phone rang, making her jump. She glanced at the screen to see it was an unknown number, then took a deep breath before pushing her earbuds back in and answering it.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi,’ said a brusque, no-nonsense voice. ‘I’m Tamsyn, friend of Jonno’s. He asked me to call you?’

‘Yeah,’ said Lucy. ‘Thanks for getting back to me.’

‘No problem,’ said Tamsyn. ‘You’re looking for an executive dating club?’

‘Definitely. But I’m not sure I’d meet the criteria to join. I just work in advertising, I’m not special or anything.’

‘That’s not what Jonno tells me; he talks about you like you’re royalty,’ said Tamsyn, and Lucy could hear the smile in her voice. ‘And anyway, it’s not about being rich or famous or anything. The one I used decides if you’re an interesting addition to their membership.’

‘Based on what?’

‘Your job, your lifestyle, your interests. They have members all over the world, mostly busy professionals who want to avoid time-wasters. And they don’t tolerate any kind of shitty behaviour.’

‘It sounds expensive,’ said Lucy, mentally cancelling her gym membership in favour of spending her evenings wading through time-poor executives in search of love.

‘It is. But definitely worth it.’

‘OK,’ said Lucy. ‘Can you send me some information? Is there a website?’

‘Not that you can access until you’re a member. I can refer you, I’ll do it now.’

‘Really? That’s so kind.’

‘You come highly recommended, it’s fine.’

‘I really appreciate this, Tamsyn. It sounds great.’

‘It is. You’ll meet some extraordinary people. Keep an eye out for an email from EMNA.’

‘Emma?’ asked Lucy. ‘Who’s Emma?’

‘No, EMNA,’ laughed Tamsyn. ‘Elite Matches, No Arseholes.’

‘Ha,’ replied Lucy. ‘Sounds perfect.’

She ended the call with a fizz of anticipation in her belly, wondering whether this would be her first ever summer of falling in love. It was now February, and she was due to turn thirty-three in June. Four months to find someone special to share her birthday with. How hard could it be, really? People did it all the time.

New beginnings, thought Lucy, feeling excited for the future for the first time in years. Time to dream big.

PART TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Four months later

‘So what time is Ken picking us up?’ said Jonno, tearing down the side of a bag of crisps and putting it on the pub table between them.