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  By the time they’d finished talking about whatever subject they were discussing, it felt as if the entire group were now all staring at me. It was like they’d all shone a ‘who is this woman?’ spotlight directly on my face. Great. Being the centre of attention. My worst nightmare. I had no choice. I had to say something. Anything. I needed to speak about a topic that would instantly help them to connect with me and accept me into their group. But what?

  My heart began beating faster. I couldn’t delay it any longer. They were all waiting. Eyes wide, ears open. I opened my mouth, still not sure what to say. Here goes…

  ‘Do you…’ I blurted out. ‘Do you come here often?’

  Oh God. Seriously? Was that the best I could come up with? No wonder they were all frowning. It sounded like a bloody chat-up line. Pass me a shovel so I can bury myself. Now.

  No, no. Come on. Don’t give up.

  ‘I mean, is it…your first time…at…at one of these events?’ I stuttered, desperately trying to rescue myself from my lame opening line.

  I was so rubbish at this.

  They looked at me like I was a madwoman, running through the streets naked, swinging my bra and knickers above my head.

  Beyond awkward.

  ‘Well…’ said a geeky looking guy in his early twenties. ‘I came last year, so this is my second time.’

  Last year? Chloe hadn’t mentioned that it was an annual event.

  ‘Really?’ I said, grateful that he’d bothered to respond. ‘Well, that’s one up on me. I was so nervous about coming. I mean, it can be so daunting, being in a room full of strangers. But I guess it helps that we’re all in the same boat. Knowing that everyone here is single is definitely a bonus!’ I grinned. There. I’d managed to string multiple sentences together and was still alive. Result!

  Although, actually…why was everyone now frowning even more than they were before?

  A tall, handsome guy clutched his wine glass tighter with his left hand, exposing a very visible wedding ring.

  What a dirty dog. Honestly. These guys are so brazen. They rock up to a singles’ event even though they’ve got their wife and probably a house full of kids at home and don’t even attempt to hide the fact that they’re a cheater. No shame.

  ‘So who do you work for?’ asked a snooty-looking lady in a tight dress and heels. Gosh. That was a bit of a formal question.

  ‘I’m self-employed,’ I replied, thinking I didn’t feel like going into the ins and outs of my job right now. This was supposed to be a relaxed, fun event.

  ‘Oh?’ she snarled. ‘I didn’t think they allowed contractors to attend the annual conference.’

  ‘Conference?’ What’s she on about? What annual conference?

  ‘Yes.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The LBLA: London Banking Leadership Annual Conference.’

  Now it was my turn to frown.

  ‘Banking conference?’

  ‘That is what I just said,’ she replied in a condescending voice. ‘Took place today across the road, hence why we’re here having drinks, per the annual tradition. Most people have already left. We’re the last leaders standing.’

  What on earth…?

  ‘You mean you’re not here for the Singles’ Meet and Mingle event?’

  She threw her head back and laughed loudly.

  ‘Good heavens, no!’ She laughed again. ‘Do we look like we’re sad and desperate?’

  Bitch.

  This was embarrassing. Absolutely mortifying. The woman said it was at the back of the bar, which was where I was. How could I have got it wrong? And more importantly, how could I get out of this without looking like an even bigger plonker?

  ‘I see…right.’ I glanced down at the floor. ‘Clearly I’ve come to the wrong place. Sorry.’ I shuffled off whilst she carried on laughing loudly, rolling her eyes at her colleagues as if to say how could she be so stupid?

  It reminded me of how Eric used to laugh at me in front of his friends and make me feel like whatever I said wasn’t smart or funny enough. That’s why I sometimes withdrew and stayed quiet so that I wouldn’t say something silly. And now here I was, making a fool of myself again.

  I quickly headed towards the door. I had to get out of here. I knew tonight would be a disaster and it was.

  Just as I was leaving, the lady who’d directed me to the back of the bar was throwing her cigarette away and coming back in.

  ‘So, did any more people show up?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘I came to the wrong place. It was for a banking conference, which I’m not a part of.’

  ‘Not for that group. I mean for the singles group. Y’know, the meet and mingle? Did anyone else turn up?’ she asked. Now I’m really confused. ‘They said there would be twenty-five people there, but there’s only six.’

  ‘Six?’ I asked. I had no idea what she was talking about.

  ‘Yeah. Sitting down at the little tables. That’s the group. The people that have turned up. All women. It’s a joke! Can’t believe I paid a tenner and no one’s showed up. I’m surprised the others stayed. They’re not happy about it either. I’m asking for a refund,’ she said, storming off towards the back of the room.

  Oh.

  So the angry-looking people to the left were part of the singles group and the ones standing on the right were the bankers? How was I supposed to know there were two different functions going on in the same place?

  Anyway, didn’t make any difference to me now. There was no way I was staying. I’d suffered enough humiliation for one night. I wasn’t going to prolong the pain any longer by sitting at a table with a bunch of strangers making small talk.

  I’d tried Chloe’s challenge and it hadn’t worked. I was throwing the towel in. Sitting at home watching Netflix and scrolling through social media might not be the most exciting existence in the world, but I’d take that over being laughed at, humiliated and made to feel like a desperado any day of the week.

  Chloe would be disappointed, but I couldn’t help that. It was my life, and it was too short to waste it subjecting myself to another one of those horrible singles’ events.

  Never again.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘I hold my hands up,’ said Chloe. ‘I should have stuck to my original plan of making the big singles’ party your first activity. But I’ve triple-checked my research and Happy Solos, the organisers for tonight’s event, are definitely more established. Their parties always get rave reviews, and despite what you think about preferring smaller groups, I actually think a bigger crowd will be better for you. You’ll feel less conspicuous.’

  I was in Chloe’s bedroom preparing for the Gherkin party. Yes. Don’t ask me how, but she’d persuaded me to give the challenge another go.

  ‘And I should have helped you prepare more. I forget how hard it must be for introverts like you to walk into a setting with unfamiliar faces and start chatting to them. I’m sorry, Em. This will be a better bunch of people. I promise. Hopefully now, after the conversation starters we went through today, you’re feeling more relaxed?’

  When I’d told Chloe how awful it was, I’d expected her to tell me to woman up and not be such a wuss. But surprisingly, she was really apologetic, saying she should have vetted the organiser more thoroughly, briefed me on the dress code and given me some talking points. I felt bad that she felt bad. And as much as I disliked the idea of socialising with strangers, I hated giving up even more. It made me feel weak, and that’s not what I wanted. I wanted to become stronger.

  ‘Yeah, I feel better, thanks. It’s just a shame that I couldn’t get an appointment at the salon to sort my crazy mop out, though. At least it’s under control again now.’

  After the nightmare I’d had trying to style my hair and find something decent to wear, I’d said I needed to find a new hairdresser and go shopping to help me feel more confident, and Chloe had agreed to come with me. She’d helped me pick out some nice new dresses, and annoyingly, I also had to shell out a hundred
pounds on a new pair of straighteners. Still, maybe it was worth the investment, as it only took me forty-five minutes to get it smooth this afternoon, rather than the hour it used to take with the old ones.

  ‘I honestly don’t know why you bother straightening your hair. Your curls aren’t crazy. They’re gorgeous. It’s just a case of finding a hairdresser who can show you how to take care of them, that’s all. One of the mums at Archie’s school has hair similar to yours, so I’ll see if she has any tips. There!’ said Chloe, looking pleased with herself, as she circled around me. ‘You look a million dollars! Don’t you think?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, staring at my reflection in her large antique bedroom mirror. ‘Maybe. How much is that with the exchange rate these days? Seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds?’

  ‘Very funny!’ She threw her head back. ‘Take the compliment, Robinson. You look great. A massive improvement on the Emily I see holed up in her flat all the time. Your lovely figure isn’t disguised by those awful baggy jumpers you insist on wearing. The dress accentuates your waist, and now we’ve banished that monobrow and your brows have been threaded, it really opens up your big brown eyes.’

  ‘I did not have a monobrow!’ I said, slapping her playfully on the shoulder. I’d never had them threaded before, but Chloe had booked me an appointment at a place all the mums went to and they were pretty good. ‘Seriously, though, thanks. I admit, I do feel much better. Having my brows done does make a difference, and I like this dress.’

  I was wearing a V-neck pink skater dress. Normally I wore much looser clothes, but during our shopping trip, Chloe had encouraged me to experiment with fit-and-flare dresses to show off my curves.

  I looked myself up and down in the mirror. I supposed I looked okay. Still wished I had bigger boobs though.

  I turned and glanced at my side profile. There was never any question of me asking if ‘my bum looked big in this’ as the answer would always be a definite yes. I had certainly been given a very generous behind. Not as firm as JLo’s or Kim Kardashian’s, of course, but if I did more squats every day (even doing one would be a good start) and hired a personal trainer to help me work out for the next ten years, then maybe a firm, toned derrière would be mine. But until then, somehow I had to learn to accept my wobbly bottom and cellulite.

  I should probably take a pic for Insta. It was rare that I got dressed up.

  ‘Could you take a few photos of me, please?’ I said, bringing the camera up on my phone. ‘You just need to tap here.’

  ‘Of course.’ She frowned as she zoomed in and out, trying to work out what to do. ‘It will be good to have a record of your first proper activity.’

  As I moved in different poses, Chloe snapped away, then handed my phone back. I scrolled through the snaps. God, my arse really did look huge in that one. And bit of a double chin from that angle too. Oh dear. Hopefully there’d be a half decent photo in there. Somewhere.

  ‘What about the colour, though, Chloe? You sure it’s not too Barbie?’

  ‘No!’ she scoffed. ‘You need colour to make a statement. Remember, in a sea full of three hundred people, you want to be able to stand out, not blend in.’

  ‘Three hundred?’ I shouted as I felt my stomach drop. ‘You said two hundred. Two-fifty tops!’

  ‘Two hundred, three hundred. What’s the difference? You’ll be fine.’

  ‘Oh, Jesus!’ I said, sitting down at the edge of her bed. ‘I don’t know if I can go through with this, Chloe. And I thought you just said I’d feel less conspicuous in a large crowd. The last thing I went to do is stand out. I’d be fine in the corner, blending in with the background, sat right next to the exit…’

  ‘That’s exactly why you should go: to push yourself out of your comfort zone. Help you become more comfortable in bigger crowds. Wearing a dress like that will make you feel more confident. And you’ll be more likely to attract the attention of a potential suitor. That’s what I mean. Anyway, the ticket is paid for, you’re on the guest list and the taxi is on its way. Look,’ she said, sitting beside me. ‘I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be great. We’ve been through possible conversation starters. Just remember you’re an interesting, intelligent woman and people will want to get to know you. Smile, relax and be yourself.’

  ‘Okay.’ I stood up and took a deep breath. ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’

  ‘It’ll be hard to dance or even breathe in this dress, though. It’s really tight around the waist,’ I said, bopping my head to the upbeat love song playing from the latest Spotify playlist I’d saved onto my phone.

  ‘You’ll manage. Perhaps steer clear of any booty shaking or twerking, though, if Beyoncé comes on!’

  ‘I’ll try and restrain myself!’ I chuckled. ‘I love this song!’ I said, trying to swing my hips. ‘I’m tempted to unzip myself to have a little jig around now in case I can’t later.’ I listened to the lyrics. So romantic. ‘Why can’t I find a man who will gush about how much he loves me? Then I wouldn’t have to go to this stupid party and make small talk with strangers.’

  ‘Well, maybe your dream man is already at the party wondering where you are, which is exactly why you should leave right now!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’ I scoffed. ‘I suppose Prince Charming has got a white horse waiting outside the venue for us to ride off into the sunset too,’ I said sarcastically as I checked my phone. ‘Talking of transportation, my Uber has arrived, so looks like it is time for me to leave.’

  ‘Great! Well, have one last look around as you make your way out, as this will be the last time you’ll set foot inside this house for seven weeks.’ She smirked.

  ‘I really don’t see why I can’t—’ I scanned the Victorian-style grand mahogany bed, furniture and dark carpet. Oh, forget it. I didn’t have the energy to debate Chloe’s stupid ‘no home visits’ restriction. ‘Anyway, thanks again for your help. I’ll probably be cursing you when I’m there, though, suffering. Better run.’

  ‘Good luck, Em!’

  ‘Thanks.’ I gave her a quick hug. ‘I’ll need it!’

  As I stepped out of the Uber, the nervous cramps in my stomach went into overdrive. It had been ages since I’d worn heels, so as well as trying to calm myself down, I also had to concentrate on trying to walk confidently without twisting my ankle and falling flat on my face.

  Help.

  I just want to go home and snuggle up in front of the TV in my PJs.

  A steady stream of people were walking around the base of the building. They must be going to the party too. As the financial district of London, this area was always quiet at the weekends, so the only reason for anyone to be here was for a special occasion.

  I followed behind from a distance and watched a group of guys head towards the grand glass doorway. I saw the sign for The Sterling. Yep, this was it. I took another deep breath and stepped inside.

  ‘Hi! Welcome!’ said the smiley redhead at the entrance with a clipboard. ‘I’m Melissa, one of the Happy Solos hosts. Can I take your name, please?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, feigning confidence. ‘It’s Emily. Emily Robinson.’

  ‘Radison, Raymond, Robinson!’ she said, running her finger down through the list, then crossing me off. ‘Yes. I have you here. Have you been to a Happy Solos event before?’

  ‘No. No, I haven’t,’ I said.

  ‘No worries! Well, everyone here is single. Lots of people come on their own like you, so there’s no need to worry. We have a ladies table over there, just past the bar, where you can sit and chat to other solo females. And if you’re nervous about walking up to a group of people by yourself, just find a Happy Solos host, and we’ll introduce you to some lovely members who will take good care of you.’

  ‘Cool. Thank you, Melissa,’ I said, relaxing a little. At least I knew I was both in the right place and would be talking to the right people this time. ‘Where are the loos, please?’

  ‘Just upstairs and on the left. Ther
e’s a cloakroom up there too, if you’d like to put your coat away.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  ‘Enjoy!’ she said enthusiastically.

  As I carefully climbed the flight of what felt like five thousand steps, the enormity of it all started to sink in. I glanced down at the main area beneath me. Even though it was only 6.45 p.m., there were already at least a hundred people scattered around. And I was here. On my own. Oh God.

  It’s okay. That Melissa lady seemed nice, and like she’d said, there was nothing to worry about. We were all in the same boat. We were all single. We were all nervous. I’d check my make-up and hair in the toilets, put my coat away and then head to the ladies table. Make some friends. It would be totally fine.

  Yes. The more I tell myself that, the more I’ll start believing it.

  I hoped so anyway…

  After touching up my lipstick and fixing my hair, my dress and literally every part of my face, body and clothing repeatedly to try and kill as much time as possible and avoid returning to the growing crowd, I finally went back downstairs.

  Drink. I definitely needed a drink.

  I walked through the crowds towards the bar. With two rows of people already in front of me, I could tell it was going to take a while to get served. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The more time I spent queuing, the less time I needed to spend networking…

  ‘At this rate, the party will be over by the time we get a drink!’ said a petite brunette thirty-something woman beside me.

  ‘I know,’ I replied. ‘It’s so busy!’

  ‘I’m Kat,’ she smiled.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Kat,’ I said, thinking of a way to etch her name into my brain. ‘I’m Emily. Is it your first time at one of these events?’ I asked, using one of Chloe’s recommended conversation starters. Definitely an improvement on my disastrous do you come here often line.