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"I'm not trying to rush it, but I need a guy to get the house, and marriage and kids have been on the cards for me from the beginning."
Mum didn't bat an eyelash when Dad upped and left us to go to India so he could ‘find himself'. Until then, I'd always thought my mother was the flightier one of my parents; she'd moved us round constantly over the years because she had an artist's soul and she needed change and variety to feed her creativity. Andyet, when Dad went off to pursue self-actualisation, Mum was the one who stuck around. The day Dad left, she made it clear to me she didn't need a man in her life.
Maybe I should feel the same way, but I don't.
I want a home where I can hang my pictures up without having to get permission from the landlord. I want rooms where I can choose the colour of the paint and how to decorate. I want my own vegetable patch. I want to pay off my own mortgage, not somebody else's. And I don't want to have to worry about the end of my lease and where I would move to next should the landlord decide they want a new tenant. According to the banks, I need a partner to make me a more ‘appealing' candidate.
And I won't put my future children at risk of instability and unpredictability by choosing the wrong partner. Children aren't at the top of my list just yet, but I won't leave life to chance. I'm looking for a man with similar values and ideas. It's sensible. Logical. Practical.
"I'm merely being proactive in looking for one that fits the criteria I want in a mate,” I tell Kara. “The list embodies everything that isn't negotiable. In a world where you can never take anything for granted and divorces happen more than they don't, I want to find someone who's right for me."
"I understand that. But ever since your third home loan application was knocked back, dating has become more of an obsession for you than it already was."
"Because I'm not getting any younger."
"Let me ask you this. When was the last time you genuinely felt happy?"
It's a good thing we're finally at the bar, because Kara's question has my head spinning. It really can't be all that long ago I felt truly happy. But as I speed through the past few weeks, then months, in my mind, I realise I don't have an answer for her. Sure, there have been moments when I've had fun, timeswhen I've laughed. But the last time I felt happy, content, or experienced more than fleeting joy or amusement? I honestly can't remember.
Kara looks far too excited by my lack of response. "See?"
"So?" I huff. "If I'm not happy, it's because I'm still looking for Mr Right."
"I don't think so."
I'm about to point out that it's quite possible my general lack of happiness is due to my dating failures when one of the bartenders finishes serving the person next to me and asks us for our order.
"So cute," Kara whispers as soon as the guy turns around to get my cider out of the fridge.
My gaze slides over the bartender's spiky, dark blond hair, wide shoulders, muscular back, and very nice arse. Definitely not bad. When he turns around again, Kara gives him a come-hither look. He rewards her with a smile, revealing a dimple. Cute. Very, very cute.
"I've always thought bartenders should wear nametags," Kara says coyly when he puts our drinks down on the tray in front of us. "Especially the cute ones."
Considering Kara is often compared to a red-headed Scarlett Johansson, it's hardly a surprise the cute bartender returns her admiring look and winks. "You're fishing for my name?"
"Do you have one?"
He leans on the bar. "Of course. Do you?"
"It's Kara."
"Nice to meet you, Kara."
"Likewise, ...?"
"Sam."
Kara puts her hand on my back and nudges me forwards while taking a step back. "Sam, this is Claire."
I want to die on the spot. My face is on fire as Sam runs appraising eyes over me. He must think I look all right because he gives me a small nod of approval.
"How ya doing, Claire?"
"Um, fine. Thanks for asking."
He laughs throatily.
"Claire was just telling me she thinks you're really cute," Kara says.
