Love & The Goddess by Mary Elizabeth Coen Page A

yet.” I signalled to the waiter. “Could you please bring me another
portion of chicken satay?”
    “Certainly, madam. Will there be anything else?”
    “Not just now, thank you …”
    “Do you eat this much all the time?” Steve asked. Before I could answer, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the screen. “Excuse me. I need to
answer this.” He got up to walk out of the bar.
    While he was gone, I checked my phone. A message from Ella read: “Just met Mr Loves Himself.”
    “Eejit here just ate my lunch,” I texted back.
    “Make him pay. This guy runs 5 miles & cycles 8 miles a day!”
    I acknowledged the waiter as he delivered a second plate of satay, then resumed texting: “Forget him. No time for a woman!”
    “Yep. haf 2 go.”
    Steve arrived back and slid in beside me, nonchalantly helping himself to another full skewer. “Kate. Of course we’d get on great,” he said, again with his mouth full. “I
just have to have this issue out in the open before I get involved with you. I’m a very giving person and I wouldn’t like to be taken for a fool.”
    I looked at him, stuck for words. Then cleared my throat. “To be honest, I find this line of conversation a bit over the top. You have no guarantees with any relationship that you will get
every aspect right. I’m sure some women have similar complaints about men.”
    “Exactly my point.” Glancing at his mobile phone, Steve assumed a harried expression: “I need to leave for a meeting. Phone me when you’ve thought all this through. Maybe
next time we could meet in the evening?”
    Stealing the final skewer of chicken, he vanished before I had a chance to comment. Flabbergasted, I sank back into my seat, feeling the wind had been knocked right out of me. Calling over the
waiter I asked for the bill along with a stiff brandy. I felt I needed it.
     

     
    Ella arrived to my apartment at six, as planned. Her effortless glamour, in shades of eau de nil and cream, contrasted with the grey leggings and long printed t-shirt I’d
changed into for lounging around. Ella had a knack of co-ordinating outfits in soft jersey layers, always in cool toning colours. The end result looked thrown together but I knew a lot of thought
went into getting it just right to best compliment her figure. She often said style was more about posture and the balance of clothing shapes than it was about someone’s figure or budget. Yet
this evening, I could see there was something wrong the moment she stepped through the door – she looked somehow ruffled despite her chic outfit.
    “Are you ok?” I asked as she headed for the living room.
    “No, I’m livid. Absolutely livid. I’ve just been stood up by a fellah from that website.”
    “Didn’t he text or call you?”
    “Only after me waiting forty minutes for him in a café. He sent a text to say he was sorry he couldn’t make it.”
    “What’s his username? Does he have a photo?”
    “He calls himself “movielover”. And no, no photo. You know, I’m sick of blind dates.”
    “Ah look, I don’t know why we bother with the no-photo guys.” Then I laughed. “Maybe he went to the movies instead.”
    Ella relaxed and began to smile: “You could be right. I’m only in foul humour because of the Mr Loves Himself guy this afternoon. What are the guys like that you’ve been in
touch with? Maybe you’re doing better than me.”
    “Come on, I’ll show you, I’ve got the computer on.” I led her through to my bedroom.
    “First I’ll show you the artist, Geoff.” I clicked on his username, “luvpicasso”.
    “Oh he’s gorgeous. Very sexy!” She almost salivated as she sat back in my office chair against the background of white-painted walls and lavender bedroom furnishings.
    “Hmm … dangerously so. The funny thing is we’ve been emailing each other and it feels like I’ve know him for ages. He told me some of the women on the site were crazy.
Bunny boilers,