Penguin Books Australia

Round 1

Spilled drinks vs Providence Inc.

I turned from the bar and prepared to navigate my way through the mass of heaving, loud, beautiful people to our seats in the courtyard. I was doing a brilliant job, nursing the drinks to my chest and caving my shoulders to protect them, until I was knocked from behind. Half of each drink went flying onto the back of the guy unlucky enough to be standing in front of me.

'Oh, shit, shit, sorry, shit!' I said, trying to grip the now-slimy glasses.

He turned slowly around. With my hands full and covered in vodka, I was unable to do anything but offer what I hoped was a sincere apology via my eyes. His mouth was open and his fingers were pulling his shirt out from his substantially wet back. And somewhere high above, God was high-fiving someone on his incredible handiwork.

Deep blue sparkling eyes set against an olive backdrop, and a warm, mischievous smile housing a set of fluorescent white teeth. Quite tall with dark, dark brown hair, longish and floppy and tucked behind his ears in that sexy, European Underweary Model way. A rugged growth around his mouth and cheeks – the kind you don't notice unless you're forced to write a description of it in a book. In short, a twenty-first-century Adonis.

He raised an eyebrow and his smile widened. We locked eyes, and for a few charged seconds the music, the floor and the pulsing liquor-friends surrounding us went out of focus, leaving only him, and me, and 4000 kilowatts of electricity. I couldn't lift my feet, shift my eyes away from his, or mute the chorus of one thousand visually stimulated brain cells collectively applauding in my head.

'That's one way to offer me a drink,' he said good-naturedly, shaking his shirt out but not taking his eyes off me.

'I'm so sorry. I . . . I was pushed,' I said, wincing at how wet he was. At the same moment, I was jolted again from behind, and launched forward from the waist up.

'Noted and forgiven,' he said, smiling cheekily.

'Okay, uh, sorry again about your shirt . . . ' I offered a weak smile and made to move away.

'Could I buy you a replacement?' he said quickly, a verbal hand on the wrist to stop me walking away.

'Well, that makes no sense,' I said, laughing and shaking my head. He was staring at me with his eyebrows up and a smile no one with a pulse could resist. 'But thank you.' I smiled sweetly, blushing, and turned to walk.

'It makes sense in that you wouldn't be getting away so fast,' he said in a singsong voice with his palms outstretched, as if to say: Am I right, or am I right?

'Really, it's fine,' I said, my brain throwing a spanner at my vocal chords for passing up the opportunity. I flashed him another dazzly smile and disappeared mysteriously into the crowd.

'Hey, wait – I didn't catch your name,' I heard him shout, but I kept walking. We'd need new drinks soon, and I'd be sure to walk past him again. Until then, he could wonder. Well played, Sergeant Seductive, well played.

'You should take longer next time,' Colette said when I finally plonked down next to her. 'What, you get thirsty on the way?' she continued, surveying the half-empty glasses.

'No, some dickhead pushed me and I spilled them all over probably the best-looking man in the universe! Ohmygod, Col. He had this smile . . . it was weird, we just stared at each other, like we had some instant connection. I know, I know, shut up.'

'Mills! Boon! Come quick! We've got the beginnings of a great story-line,' she said, laughing.

'He even offered to buy replacements, when it was so not his fault . ..'

'Look at you, Jay – all smitten over some random in a bar!' she said, digging me in the ribs. As my older sister, it was in her job description to rib me, physically and figuratively, every time I showed any hint of liking a guy, ever.

'Did you give him your number?'

'Oh, yeah, in the three seconds we spent together.'

'Well, what are you doing? You gonna go give it to him, or sit out here like a loser?'

'I'm staying here. But I may walk past him and make him ask me for it when I get the next round.'

'Maybe just write it on your forehead, or scribble it across your tits,' Col offered, raising her glass to her lips.

'You mean, show him from the outset the kind of classy bird I am?'

She ignored me, instead making a loud slurping noise.'There's actually nothing left in this,' she said, peering into her drink.

I leaped up. 'Leave it to me,' I said, giddy with excitement, already turning to walk inside.

'Actually, know what? I really can't be arsed waiting another twenty minutes. I think we should roll. I'm beat.'

No! No go home! I screamed on the inside.

'Ohh, come on, just one more?' I said aloud, fidgeting to get inside and see Adonis again. 'You promised one drink and, technically, that was not even half of one . . . '

Dramatic sigh.

'Okay then. But don't take so bloody long this time. If you see Fabio, give him your number then keep walking. Treat 'em mean and all that shit.'

I grabbed my gloss out of my handbag and applied a fresh layer before prancing gaily inside, heading back over in His direction, my heart racing.

When I got to the scene of the spill, Adonis had vanished. I held my breath and looked around, to the left, to the right, trying to keep it all on the low-low. But he was nowhere to be seen. I put my head down and slowly made my way over to the stairs so that I could inconspicuously scan the entire room, which seemed to have tripled in volume and people since I was here four minutes ago.

I looked, and I looked. And I looked. But he was gone. My heart, unaccustomed to such intense feelings within such condensed time-frames, plummeted through my body to the floor, where it mocked me quietly for getting my hopes up over a guy whose eyes drilled through mine because he'd put away fourteen rum and Cokes, not because he thought I was The One.

You fool, Jean. Why didn't you give him your name when he asked? And your number and email and blood type, too? Now he's gone and you'll never see him again.

I turned and walked back outside, my shoulders slumped, my tone deflated.

'He's gone, Col.'

Colette stood up and put her black patent studded bag on her shoulder.

'Oh, Jay. If it's meant to be, then you'll run into him again . . .' She scrunched up her face sympathetically and led the way inside. I followed, my eyes combing the sea of heads for Adonis, but he hadn't just gone to the bathroom, and he hadn't just slipped off to the ATM. He'd gone.