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Grace groaned and looked a big bunch of red roses. Sandy took them and opened the card on the bottom, which when Grace refused to read, she broadcast to the entire room.

“Dear Grace. I will admire and want you until the last rose has faded. I'll be at that cafe at the same time tomorrow. Terry.”

“Oh what's that supposed to mean? Until the last rose has faded,” Grace ranted and put the roses down on the desk to go into the small changing room. Sandy stared at the roses, and pulled one out. “Hey Grace, this one is a silk rose. It ain't ever going to fade.”

Grace stared up at the ceiling and swore. “What do I have to do?”

“Give him a chance, babe” Sandy told her and she took the flowers into the changing room, full of stale cigarette smoke, to get changed. “Or someone else will.”

Grace sighed. “Yeah? Let 'em.”

Terry beamed when he saw Grace come up to him, but his smile disappeared when he saw Grace's facial expression.

“What's up?” Terry asked and Grace puffed.

“Isn't it obvious?” Grace flung herself down in her chair. “You have gone from cute and sweet to just scary,” Grace told him and peered out from the menu. “Admire you until the last rose faded. What the hell were you thinking?”

Terry bit his lip and shrugged. “It's true though. I will.”

“Stop it,” Grace said sharply. “Please stop it. We can't date. I can't go out with you because you paid a prostitute for sex.” A few heads turned in the restaurant to look at Terry who shrugged it off.

“I know,” he replied in a less-audible tone than before. “I know I did. It was a stag night. These things happen. He did too, but he got married yesterday.”

“They do happen Terry, but I won't mix business with pleasure. So this has to stop.”

Terry wiped his eyes and gave a tortured smile. “If I hadn't have had sex with you would you go with me on a date? A single, solitary date?”

Grace peered back at him and pursed her lips together. “Well, it's a, it…” Grace stammered and then finished quickly, “oh I don't know,” and buried herself in the menu. She wiped her eyes and looked back at Terry and shrugged.

“Well I am willing to believe that night never happened, if you are,” he asked and she shook her head.

“How can it be the same? And anyway, what I do for a living, most men don't like it.” Terry put his hand on Grace's but she just sighed and put on an exasperated tone. “Oh hello love, what did you do this week? Me, I put up five houses. Did you love, that's good. I fucked forty guys. More wine?”

Terry nodded and then put his hand on Grace's. “Well I do know what you do and I still want to take you on a proper date. A show, a meal. I want to get to know you.”

Grace sighed and gestured to the waitress to stop at their table to order their lunch. “You are a really nice guy and you will make some girl very happy. But it can't be me, so can we have lunch because I really enjoyed last weekend or are you going to keep on trying to bully me into a relationship?”

“Not bully, just woo,” Terry replied and they caught a figure striding towards their table.

“I'm sorry Gracie, but I can't ignore this anymore,” Sandy said and pulled up a chair, pushing the waitress out of the way. “You are totally useless with men.” Grace screwed up her face at the interruption but Sandy pretended not to notice. “You are. You give incredible sex but you are shit with relationships. I know you can get guys to amazing climaxes and they just love you and your shaved pussy and the smile you give. And you make them happy but you are so shit at actually understanding them.” A few heads turned round in the restaurant and Grace buried herself in her seat.

“Now look at him, he has come all this way twice just on the off chance of seeing you. And taken you to lunch and even split up with his fiancee because he might be able to talk you into a date. What more do you want from him, Gracie?”

Grace stared at her flatmate. “What do you mean, what more do I want?” Her eyes fizzed dangerously and Sandy gave a weird, angry look.

“Because he likes you. Why not give him a date. You are single, so is he, so give him a go. Just do it one date at a time, but if you don't stop being so cold, you will end up lonely. Men like him don't come along very often.”

For only the second time since they had met, Grace was angry at her flatmate. “Sandy,” she said furiously. “Just piss off and stay out of it.”

“Not until you see sense,” she said resolutely and Grace stared at them both, threw her napkin on the table and walked out of the cafe.

“Grace!” Terry called as she stormed down the riverbank. “Grace, wait!”

Grace turned to face the man with his outstretched hands. “What?”

“I don't want to put pressure on you, but can we at least finish our lunch?”

Grace sighed and saw Sandy behind him. “I'll go back to the flat,” Sandy told her in a shocked voice.

“Yeah, sorry Sandy,” Grace muttered, but Sandy gave her a forced smile and skulked off into the distance. She swore and kicked a small bollard in anger at herself and Terry watched.

“Please, I didn't mean for her to…” Terry mumbled and Grace nodded.

“I know,” she replied tersely. “It's me. I shouldn't have shouted at her.”

Terry looked over at the empty street, and held his hand out towards his lunch date. “Please, can we have lunch?”

Grace smiled at her companion. She sighed, took Terry's hand and wandered back inside the small cafe.

They were stared by all the patrons as she did; the small argument and storming out of the small eatery had its customers chattering in hushed whispers amongst themselves, especially what they had already announced to the other diners.

“Wedding was lovely,” Terry said and she smiled. “Small church just outside Watford. Bluebells in the churchyard, lovely reception. Bride was absolutely beautiful.”

“Does she know what went on, on the stag night?” Grace asked and Terry swayed his head.

“She probably has a good idea but she won't care.” Grace raised her eyebrows but he just smiled. “He is one of the richest people I know. They live in a big house, have big cars and live well. He keeps bringing home thousands of pounds a week and she doesn't care about the two mistresses he's had or the whores…” Terry looked at Grace and then added. “But that's not what I meant.”

Grace's face warmed. “It's OK. It's just a word. And anyway, I spent most of my time around Europe being a stripper not a parlour girl.”

Terry smiled and opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. “Let me guess, you were about to say you'd like to see me do that,” Grace added and Terry went sheepish.

“Yeah OK,” he admitted with flushed cheeks and Grace took a long sip of her lemonade. “I'd love to capture you on film, you have the most wonderful body. The pictures would be amazing.”

Grace blushed. They chatted warmly and affectionately, like old friends, and then walked out onto the river bank and turned down river. Grace had wanted to pay at last half for the meal but Terry refused.

Grace put her hand on Terry's rear and he put his arm over her shoulder.

“So, have you given up on me yet?” Grace asked and Terry peered down at her.

“Do you really want me too?”

“It'll be the absolute no-no. You never date your punters. It just gets messy.”

“But I was a one-off,” Terry replied and then added. “And it doesn't answer the question.”

Grace sighed and grinned. “OK. I'll think about it. Breaking one of my golden rules. I am a little uncomfortable about it but you aren't like any of my normal punters.”

Terry smiled. “Will you let me take you out next Saturday?”

Grace took a deep breath and nodded, maybe Sandy was right. What harm can a date do? “Yeah OK. I'll think about it. Maybe next Saturday, a trial date, if you like,” she suggested and he smiled. She was being difficult to get but he was getting there, she was softening, slowly.