1. Roxanne

Chapter 1

Roxanne

Lost

S itting back in my chair, savoring the rich aroma of the steaming cup of mocha in front of me, my mind wanders to the stars, wondering if I could find love in space like those girls in supermarket novels, because it's sure not happening for me on Earth! The warmth of the cup feels comforting against my fingers. I take a deep breath in, relishing the smell of the chocolate and coffee blend as I valiantly try to pay attention to my date.

Robert clears his throat loudly, interrupting my thoughts. "As I was saying, Roxanne, the best time to get into crypto has probably passed, but I still think you could build a solid and diversified portfolio if you buy into it now on the dip," Robert says, looking at me expectedly with his dark, shark-like eyes.

Crap, he's finally stopped talking . "From what I hear, those cryptos are a scam, though ?" I don't have the money to freaking invest. Can barely cover the rent! I stifle a cough as his overpowering cologne tickles the back of my throat.

I met Robert on a dating app a few days ago, although I'm more than a little disappointed to discover he looks nothing like his pictures! I was expecting a tall, dark, handsome, and muscular man. What turned up is a short, doughy and pasty pretender. He isn't horrible by any means, just not what I am looking for. Why do they always lie? Had Robert used old pictures of his glory days, or maybe creative editing sticking his head on another body? Next time I'll ask for a video.

It is probably a good thing he didn't look like his pictures… Like my ex-Pete. Pete, the beautiful cheating bastard. It annoys me I still think of him, and every time I do, that churning, stinking feeling in my stomach returns. Will it ever stop hurting?

I have a thing for large, solid men like Pete, recalling how safe I felt in his big arms. Well, that was until I found out he was a liar. We'd even discussed getting married after three years of dating, the end of the year as a potential date. That date had just come and gone. What a joke it all seems now. He must have been laughing out the other side of his mouth.

Turns out, I wasn't enough for Pete, oh no! In fact, no one is enough, as I discovered he just can't keep it in his pants and had a host of affairs. So many women strung along in various stages of the Pete lie train, fools like me. It took me three years of ignoring the late nights back from the construction yard, constant missed calls and mysterious texting to put two and two together. Jeez, I was so na?ve. I can feel my face heating at the memory of it.

Robert lets out a laugh, brushing his hand over his brown receding hairline, revealing a hint of sweat on his forehead. "See, that's what they want you to think, Roxanne. But I made a killing," he says, his voice filled with pride. I struggle to hear him over the clanging dishes and noisy chatter of the other patrons.

I nod slowly, trying to keep up with the conversation. "Oh, that's superb. I had thought it had dropped quite a bit recently though?" If this guy is as wealthy as he says, why are we sitting in this dingy café?

I bring the cracked cup of mocha to my lips and take another sip. I nearly spill my drink as someone bumps into my back as they squeeze past the narrow tables. Is it too late to excuse myself to the bathroom and escape out the back door? That's what my friends Alice and Charlotte would tell me to do. I'd never bailed mid-date before, but with Robert the Pretender, I'm sorely tempted. I remind myself that at least he had shown up. Unlike the no-shows, they are the worst. Is this my third date this month? It is getting hard to keep track, each mediocre encounter blending into a tapestry of disappointment. Why is it so hard to make a genuine connection?

Robert reaches for his phone, his chubby fingers deftly navigating the trading app with practiced ease. As he taps away, I notice a notification of a missed call from someone named "Sofia." Robert looks up at me, a self-satisfied smile on his face, his double chin jiggling. "Yeah, kinda. But I bought into it a couple of years ago," he says, tracing a finger along an indistinct point on the squiggly line. "It's gone down a bit since then, but as you can see, it's still higher than my buy-in price." He pauses before taking a sip of his coffee before continuing. "Actually, I'm thinking about buying a new car. I was looking at the new BMWs." His eyes light up as he scrolls through his phone, lost in the fantasy of his next big purchase.

Meanwhile, I've already mentally checked out of the conversation, my eyes wandering to the TV screen mounted on the wall. A new movie trailer plays. The lead actor is a fit and firm man with no shirt. My thoughts drift to the actor's chiseled physique. I can't help but imagine his sculpted arms wrapped around me, his firm hands caressing my hair as he pulls me close. The sensation of his body pressing against mine sends a shiver down my spine, and I can feel my heart racing with desire. As Robert continues to prattle on about his stock portfolio or something, I find myself lost in a daydream, lost in the heat of my own fantasies. It has been too long since I've had the real thing.

Suddenly, it feels boiling in here. I touch my face and notice the heat building. Which, of course, increases my embarrassment, causing me to ripen into a full-fledged tomato face. "Robert, it has been lovely meeting you, but it's getting late, and I really need to get going," I say as I stand up from my chair, hoping that my voice doesn't betray my unease.

"You're leaving already?" Robert says, clearly surprised.

I offer a weak excuse, "Yeah, sorry, but I have work in the morning and need to get some stuff ready."

Robert stands up, nearly knocking our cups off the table as he rushes to put on his coat. "Ah, that's a shame. Well, let me get my coat on and I can drive you." he says, looking at me expectantly.

Would rather this guy not know where I live. "No, really, it's fine. I don't live too far away. It's just a short walk," I reply as I squeeze past the many packed tables towards the coffee shop exit, eager to escape.

Robert follows closely behind, still not convinced. "Well, you could always come back to my parents' house?" he asks, his voice tinged with desperation.

Mr. Stock Trader wants to take me back to his parents' house! Robert and I step outside, and I immediately feel the sharp sting of cold air on my skin. The wind whips my brown hair around my face, and I pull my coat tighter around me, wishing I had brought an extra layer. I mentally prepare myself for the most awkward part of a bad date, the goodbye.

Hopefully, Robert hasn't taken my vague niceness as any kind of interest. This is the moment of truth. He's making strange eye contact now. Oh no, he might try it . Sure enough, Robert put his hand on my waist and begins leaning his head in for the kiss! He isn't a brave man because he already has his eyes closed and lips puckered, with our heads still far apart. He looks like a weird goldfish greedily floating towards some fish flakes.

Thankfully, my growing and extensive experience with dreadful dates has sharpened my skills and prepared me for every occasion. Occasions such as this! I swiftly close the distance between us, taking advantage of his eagerness by embracing his rotund form with a warm hug. Ha, no kissing here, Mr. Stock Trader. It is such a beautifully executed move, it would've made my old judo instructor proud.

I can feel Robert's excitement deflate as I release him from my embrace, his arms awkwardly lingering in the air for a moment before dropping to his sides.

"Ah. Ok," Robert squeaks out, surprised and disappointed.

"See you around, Robert." I say with a smile, turning away from him.

Thankfully, he doesn't say any more as I walk away, because I'm nearly out of tricks and patience. So that was that. Another mediocre date to add to the collection, sadly, not even bad enough for a funny story to tell my friends. Tomorrow, I'll have to get back on the dating app and begin the entire process all over again.

I take out my cell, careful to shield it from the cold howling wind and misty rain. My fingers shiver as I swipe across photos of my parents. It's become a habit of mine, checking these pictures repeatedly. But every time I look at them, I'm struck by how content and joyful they seem in every photo, regardless of the time or place. Their broad, genuine smiles radiate happiness.

I just want the great love my parents had. They both passed away within a few months of each other some years back. It had felt so cruel at the time, but now it seems oddly sweet. They had been older when they had me. I was a complete surprise. They didn't believe it was possible for my mum because of her health. They called me their "little miracle." Well, that was until I started practicing the saxophone.

I can't help but feel a twinge of shame and excitement as I instinctively open the folder of my old Pete photos. I couldn't bring myself to delete them all. It galls me I lack the strength to do it. I come across the familiar images of Pete with his arm draped around my shoulders. The memory is forever etched in my mind, the salty ocean breeze ruffling his tousled blonde hair and the contagious laughter on his face. It pains me to admit that despite everything, a small part of me still longs for those carefree moments we shared. If only it wasn't all a lie. His pictures feel like a sickly-sweet balm, bringing both comfort and agony to my soul.

Why do I find it so hard to meet a good guy? I work hard to support myself; I dress well and I'm friendly to everyone I meet, even if they lie and take me to an overcrowded café. My hair is a mess, but at least I have all my teeth and my boobs aren't bad if I do say so myself. But that isn't enough these days. Maybe there's something wrong with me?

I had lied to Robert about the distance back to my apartment, knowing it is a three-mile walk in freezing weather. But the last thing I wanted to do was get in his car. Who knows where I might end up? A good long walk is what I need to rethink this dating business, plus thinking about that sexy actor from the trailer will help keep me warm. I tuck my cell and hands into my pockets, trying to find some solace in their warmth as I trudge forward with the odd sense that someone or something is watching me.