All Bets Are On by Charlotte Phillips

indignance.
    ‘Clingy?’
    ‘You ring guys the next morning?’ he said. ‘Not just the next morning but outrageously early the next morning. Do you have any idea what message that sends out?’
    ‘Enthusiastic?’ she said brightly.
    ‘Needy,’ he corrected.
    * * *
    Harry had thought the previous evening’s holding off kissing her had been a stroke of genius that would intrigue her. Turned out it had. He just hadn’t considered it might also feed her insecurity. Big time, by the sound of it. He felt a twinge in his gut, which might have been guilt at messing with her head. Then he remembered he hadn’t had breakfast yet, it was obviously just hunger.
    ‘It’s been less than twenty-four hours,’ he protested. With previous girlfriends, twenty-four hours would have been super-quick.
    ‘How long would you leave it before ringing, then?’ she said. ‘Come on, tell me how long is reasonable in your opinion?’
    He paused. In some circumstances never was too soon. He groped for a length of time that wouldn’t seem too outrageous.
    ‘Couple of days maybe,’ he said cautiously.
    She made an exasperated noise.
    ‘Seriously? If I wait for you to move things forward I could lose the will to live.’
    ‘I thought you wouldn’t want to rush things after so long on your own,’ he protested.
    ‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘It’s been three years. Now I’ve made that decision I want to get on with it. So I thought I’d crack on and organise another date myself. That is, if you’re up for it. Or was yesterday your way of telling me you want to bail?’
    For a moment he was wrong-footed because his planned pull-out-all-the-stops second date was a sure-fire winner. Wining and dining at an exclusive high-rise restaurant with views over the city at night, followed by cocktails, followed by his place.
    Then again, letting her have her head might be even more successful. What better way to impress her than to go along with what she wanted? He remembered her expectations the previous day—dating to her involved going out for a drink or the cinema. It screamed cliché. Tried and tested. How hard could that be?
    ‘Oh, I’m up for it,’ he said, wide awake now and thinking on his feet. ‘At least if you organise it I can’t be accused of using a formula. Over to you.’
    ‘Great,’ she said. ‘I need to do a favour first for my flatmate. You can give me a hand with that and then maybe we can have lunch. Meet me at twelve. I’ll get Tilly to text you the address.’
    ‘Today?’ he said. She wasn’t wasting any time. ‘Another daytime date?’
    ‘Sounds like you were only planning on sleeping anyway,’ she said. ‘And didn’t you know? Daytime dates are the new dinner-and-cinema.’

SIX
    Rule #7 A player won’t want to waste time when there’s nothing in it for him. Set up a date that involves him doing something generous, something outside his comfort zone—and watch to see if he tries to wriggle out of it.

    A lovely leafy street in Wimbledon. The address was for a large and beautiful three-storey house on the right. Balloons hung from the front door in pastel pink and white and a retro-style painted sign ‘TO THE PARTY’ pointed its arrow shape towards the wrought-iron-gated path at the side of the house.
    Harry got out of the car, the word ‘PARTY’ flashing like a neon warning sign before his eyes. What the hell kind of favour were they meant to be doing for Tilly? He considered just calling Alice with an excuse, then realised he couldn’t because as of yesterday she had no mobile phone. He locked the car and walked cautiously towards the house.
    She appeared through the side gate as he approached.
    ‘Great, you’re on time,’ she said, all smiles.
    He stared at her aghast.
    ‘Why on earth are you dressed as a fairy?’
    ‘This?’ she said, glancing down at herself as if she could have possibly forgotten she was wearing a floaty purple net dress and pink tights. Her hair was fastened up with