You Can't Hurry Love

Chapter Thirteen

DECEMBER 6th

'Is it him?' I mouth to Ben from across the bar as the sound of Angelo's door opens behind me and I feel my pulse quicken for the umpteenth time since taking my seat at eight o'clock, the exact time Matt was supposed to be meeting me here.

'No. Will you quit worrying! He'll be here,' he replies, but I don't fail to notice his subtle glance out of the window to his left, his brow furrowing as he scans the empty street outside.

8:26 pm. 

So that means I've been waiting for nearly half an hour with no sign of Matt showing up at all, not even a text message to explain where he was, which was strange. Only a few hours ago he was telling me how excited he was for tonight and now I'm left waiting alone at the bar like some pathetic desperado.

'You don't think he saw me through the window and decided to do a runner, do you?'

Lincoln was putting a bill through the till further up the bar and I catch his lips turning up at my words, instantaneously getting under my skin in the process, and I can't stop the acrimony in my voice as I shout at him.

'Hey!'

He looks up, appearing startled by my tone but I didn't care.

'Have I said something to amuse you?'

'No,' he answers simply, but the smile spreading further across his face says otherwise.

'Well, you've clearly found something funny. What was it? Tell me!'

'Dot!' Ben interjects loudly, grabbing my hand in an attempt to calm me down as Lincoln saunters out from behind the till, placing the receipt into a small folder and tapping it against his hand tormentingly as he passes by. 'Just ignore him. And Matt already knows what you look like, silly, so why would he run? Maybe he's just been held up at work?'

'But then why wouldn't he have messaged me to let me know. What if I came across too keen and I've put him off?'

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the bar as he looks around the room slowly. 'Have you spoken to him today?'

I nod.

'Then let me see what you put. But be quick,' he mutters as I grab my phone off the bar and hand it to him. 'I don't want to get caught out by the He-devil.' He scowls as Lincoln's retreating figure weaves its way through the restaurant. 'He's already making me stay late tonight even though he knows Isaac and I have a hotel booked.'

'Why?'

'Because he's a sadist, that's why! Apparently, your gerbil dying isn't a valid enough excuse for being late these days. Heartless git.'

'We don't have a gerbil . . .'

'Will you be quiet!' Ben glares at me before looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. 'If you want to know, I was getting a spray tan, all right. I am not turning up to a sexy night with my boyfriend looking like Casper gone wild! It was a necessity. Now, shut up so I can concentrate!'

He opens up the Tinder app on my phone and starts scouring through our messages, raising an eyebrow every so often as he skims through our exchange and I feel squirmish in my seat, wishing I could have had a quick look first to delete anything that might have looked a bit racy. (Not that there's been anything too racy mind, but when you have someone from the outside looking in, they might take it out of context.)

'I don't see anything you did wrong,' Ben states, handing it back with pursed lips and I must fail to hide my anxiety because he continues, 'look, just give him another ten minutes then send him a message asking if he's okay and if he still doesn't reply, take a picture of me and say you've found someone much sexier anyway so not to bother contacting you again. Oo, gotta go!' He scoots out from behind the bar just as Lincoln reappears and I busy myself with my phone so I don't have to talk to him, choosing to read through the messages myself to see if I could find any clues.