leave a good impression for my fellow kind, if they were ever
to stop in this end of town."
Okay, snob.
"But it seems nice here. Friendly."
Okay, not quite so bad snob.
"When you first mentioned the place I thought it might
be a little like eating on Neptune. And then I realised, of course, that it
would be very unlike eating on Neptune as we wouldn’t burn up or fry on
impact."
Points: hanging in the balance. Seriously, this guy is not
exactly great, but I get the impression he could be trained. Or maybe Eleanor
could learn to like golf and eating with seventeen different types of forks.
"So, tell me about your mum," Joel asks. "How
did you come to be setting her up on a date?"
"I've recently moved out and it made me realise how
lonely she is. I thought it would be nice for her to find love again."
"How romantic."
I shrug. "So, tell me about you," I say.
"Apart from golf, what do you like to do in your free time?"
"I love to swim," he says. "And I love to
ride my horses. I have a beautiful riding track around my estate and it is so
lovely just to ride off in the summer and canter around it all day."
"Doesn’t it get boring, doing the same journey over and
over again?"
"Not really," he says. "Sometimes I take a
picnic and stop to eat it under the trees, and sometimes I stop to swim in the
lake."
"Wow," I'm floored by his wealth. "And this
is all your own land?"
"Yep. All in my back garden, practically."
"Wow."
Points: horses equals animal lover, so points are definitely
in the black. And I am not swayed by the lake in his back yard. At. All.
But seriously, if it worked out between him and my mum, Dan
and I could go there for summer holidays. It would be like summering in the
Hamptons. But on this side of the Atlantic, obviously.
He does seem very nice. And he’s tall and fairish, and maybe
a little like Bryan Adams if you squint. And I’m almost certain that I wouldn’t
complain about riding to work in a limo every day. I mean, he’d want to keep
his new love interest’s daughter on his side, wouldn’t he?
"Well, you know," I say after a while, hoping he
didn’t realise I was daydreaming about his money. "I’d love for you to
meet my mother. I’m sure you and Eleanor would get on really well."
"Really? That’s wonderful. I thought you were going to
turn me down for being too much of a snob."
Perceptive and rich. And yes, I’m questioning my motives for
saying yes. This guy has positive and negative points, and I have to admit that
there is a very, very slight possibility—and I mean, like, a one in a million
chance—that I have been seduced by money. I, Mackenzie Atkinson, have been
charmed and lured by the promise of fish eggs by the lake on horseback. Or
something. It sounds better than saying "by the smell of little green
bills", because seriously, who actually likes the smell of money? Not me,
but I wouldn’t be opposed to the smell of expensive perfume it can buy. And the
personal ad did say that he wanted someone to share his wealth (and his years)
with. I’d forgotten that part about the years. You see? He’s a sweetheart. A
very, very magnificently rich sweetheart.
We arrange for the date with Mum to take place tomorrow
night. He says he’s taking her to a French restaurant. I briefly wonder if this
French restaurant might actually be in France, but he confirms that no, it is
in a very posh little village on the outskirts of Bristol. Shame. And they can
go to see a show of her choosing afterwards, and he’s sending a car to pick her
up. This is like something out of a movie, and I pretty much wish that I was
going on this date instead of her. I wonder if Joel has ever thought about
being a sugar daddy.
I’m not serious, of course. But I must make sure my mother
owns suitable attire for a night in the company of a millionaire (a few times
over, by the sound of it.)
When he goes to motion for the cheque, I tell him not to.
"No, I promised it was my treat."
"Yeah, but my
to stop in this end of town."
Okay, snob.
"But it seems nice here. Friendly."
Okay, not quite so bad snob.
"When you first mentioned the place I thought it might
be a little like eating on Neptune. And then I realised, of course, that it
would be very unlike eating on Neptune as we wouldn’t burn up or fry on
impact."
Points: hanging in the balance. Seriously, this guy is not
exactly great, but I get the impression he could be trained. Or maybe Eleanor
could learn to like golf and eating with seventeen different types of forks.
"So, tell me about your mum," Joel asks. "How
did you come to be setting her up on a date?"
"I've recently moved out and it made me realise how
lonely she is. I thought it would be nice for her to find love again."
"How romantic."
I shrug. "So, tell me about you," I say.
"Apart from golf, what do you like to do in your free time?"
"I love to swim," he says. "And I love to
ride my horses. I have a beautiful riding track around my estate and it is so
lovely just to ride off in the summer and canter around it all day."
"Doesn’t it get boring, doing the same journey over and
over again?"
"Not really," he says. "Sometimes I take a
picnic and stop to eat it under the trees, and sometimes I stop to swim in the
lake."
"Wow," I'm floored by his wealth. "And this
is all your own land?"
"Yep. All in my back garden, practically."
"Wow."
Points: horses equals animal lover, so points are definitely
in the black. And I am not swayed by the lake in his back yard. At. All.
But seriously, if it worked out between him and my mum, Dan
and I could go there for summer holidays. It would be like summering in the
Hamptons. But on this side of the Atlantic, obviously.
He does seem very nice. And he’s tall and fairish, and maybe
a little like Bryan Adams if you squint. And I’m almost certain that I wouldn’t
complain about riding to work in a limo every day. I mean, he’d want to keep
his new love interest’s daughter on his side, wouldn’t he?
"Well, you know," I say after a while, hoping he
didn’t realise I was daydreaming about his money. "I’d love for you to
meet my mother. I’m sure you and Eleanor would get on really well."
"Really? That’s wonderful. I thought you were going to
turn me down for being too much of a snob."
Perceptive and rich. And yes, I’m questioning my motives for
saying yes. This guy has positive and negative points, and I have to admit that
there is a very, very slight possibility—and I mean, like, a one in a million
chance—that I have been seduced by money. I, Mackenzie Atkinson, have been
charmed and lured by the promise of fish eggs by the lake on horseback. Or
something. It sounds better than saying "by the smell of little green
bills", because seriously, who actually likes the smell of money? Not me,
but I wouldn’t be opposed to the smell of expensive perfume it can buy. And the
personal ad did say that he wanted someone to share his wealth (and his years)
with. I’d forgotten that part about the years. You see? He’s a sweetheart. A
very, very magnificently rich sweetheart.
We arrange for the date with Mum to take place tomorrow
night. He says he’s taking her to a French restaurant. I briefly wonder if this
French restaurant might actually be in France, but he confirms that no, it is
in a very posh little village on the outskirts of Bristol. Shame. And they can
go to see a show of her choosing afterwards, and he’s sending a car to pick her
up. This is like something out of a movie, and I pretty much wish that I was
going on this date instead of her. I wonder if Joel has ever thought about
being a sugar daddy.
I’m not serious, of course. But I must make sure my mother
owns suitable attire for a night in the company of a millionaire (a few times
over, by the sound of it.)
When he goes to motion for the cheque, I tell him not to.
"No, I promised it was my treat."
"Yeah, but my
Similar Books
