Game, Set and Match

Game, Set and Match

Dana looked in the mirror and saw, staring back at her, a 35 year old woman with shoulder length  brown hair, falling around her shoulders, blue eyes and dark sweeping lashes that partially hid a faint, lurking sadness.

 Wrinkling her brow, she tugged at the scarf round her neck.

 “ Wrong colour for my shirt,” she muttered to herself, it wouldn’t do. The shirt wouldn’t do either. She took it off. Riffling through the wardrobe, she pulled out a white Erika short sleeve button- up. Why was she doing this? After all, what did it really matter, at her age and in her state of  mind. The dark blue jeans would do, they were Fashion Casual pencil pants and a tight fit. No harm in showing off her trim figure and the white top would help her be her usual inconspicuous self.

The whole thing was ridiculous. Here she was, an accomplished wine farm executive,  behaving  like a seventeen year old. Her friends at the  office, had been at the bottom of it, continuously promoting the attributes of Bennett, their old school pal. Bennett Johnson, they told  her , was good looking, tall, brown hair and eligible, with a good sound income as CEO of a food chain store.

“You can’t go wrong,” they  said.  

Dana knew they were trying to help her over her sense of loss, after her boy friend of several years had been killed in a car crash. She had become something of a recluse since then, two years ago now.

The phone  rang, Dana let it ring for a spell, before picking it up. She just didn’t have time for calls now. Her breath quickened as she swiped her finger across the screen.

 “Hello Dana, Jeffrey here, How are you doing? Getting ready for the big date?”

“Mind your own business Jeff, it is hard enough to have had you and the others set me up like this when all I want to do is hide and stay far away from people. I’ll let you know how it goes later, much later.”

“Don’t forget to do some prodding, regarding  the tender , for his food stores. If your date is a winner,  it  would be a cherry on top if we get a foot in that door!”

 Through the window Dana saw,  clouds were coming up, the trees were swaying,  there  were already  a few spatters of rain on the glass. She grabbed a jacket from the back of the chair and shrugging into it, she was ready.

Taking a taxi was easier than driving through down town traffic and looking for a parking spot. She got off, right in front of the entrance to ‘The Bamboo Room’. Coming out of the revolving door she was greeted by the maitre d’

“Good evening ma’am, table for one?”

“No, I am meeting a friend.”

Looking around, Dana spotted a solitary customer sitting in a far corner. Ah, there he was, over there, tall, good looking, brown hair. The  maitre d’ indicated the young man, Dana walked over and putting out her hand, introduced herself saying,

“This is a nice table you have chosen, nice view and out of the way. Mind if I sit opposite you?”

“Sure, go ahead, name’s Ben,  call  me Ben,” he had a nice firm handshake,

“Can I order you a drink?”

“A gin and tonic with a slice of lemon will be lovely, thanks.”

Nice eyes, thought Dana looking into them and seeing them crinkle up in a smile, as he took in her white shirt and navy jacket with the SA swimming badge on the pocket.

“What do you think of the olive venture?” she asked.

“Sorry!  What  olive venture?”

“Us,  branching out on the wine farm. Now the olive trees are mature we are going to produce olive products, olive oil,  tapenade, that sort of thing and of course bottled olives. We want to put out a tender to the food chains, to secure a corner of the market. We need advice on the tendering process with the food stores.”

“I could help you there,” said Ben.

“Yes I thought you might be able to.”

Dana  observed  a puzzled frown appearing on Ben’s face but he made no comment. She was not sure how to press along with this subject. She could work on it later.

“Shall we order some food? The waiter  is  hovering  around. What would you like?”

“I’d like the steak with mushroom sauce and I like the steak rare, please.”

“Just what I’d like myself,” said Ben.

Similar  taste in food, thought, Dana. They both smiled and the conversation turned for a while, to the subject of food.

“Actually,” said Dana, “ Cooking  is my favourite pastime”

“What a coincidence, one of mine too, nothing I like better, than to have friends round and prepare a meal for them. Watching the delight on their faces as they take a first  mouthful  is all the reward I need, for the slavery in the kitchen.  They embarked on a lengthy discussion of their favourite recipes.

Dana  liked to cook chicken breasts in butter and serve them with a brown sauce and a salad.

“It’s  funny how my friends say, that the chicken will be too dry, cooked like this but they are never too dry, when cooked in butter.”

Ben’s  favourite  dish was creamy garlic prawns.

They were both fans of  Auguste  Escoffier  and laughed about some of his ancient recipes, such as ‘cocks crests’ and  ‘ thrushes in brandy’ .

Dana watched Ben tuck into his steak. He was eating with gusto and savouring the flavour of the peppery mushroom sauce. She could almost  feel  it in her own mouth. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself,f that going out like this was a good thing and she was filled with a feeling of gratitude for her friends and for the present moment. She found herself wondering what it would be like, to be kissed by those lips.

“What?’ asked Ben. “What are you looking at?”

“At you, enjoying the steak.”

“Nothing like a good steak to give you energy for sport and exercise.”

“What  do you do for exercise?” asked Dana.

“ I  go out at 5am four times a week, cycling. I find that being out so early, without too many people and cars, recharges my batteries. What do you do?”

“I used to swim but now I go jogging, four times a week at 5am.

“We are both early birds then.”

“Dana we seem to have so much in common, would you like to meet again like this?”

“Yes definitely. I have enjoyed the evening immensely. Would you mind if I take a ‘selfie’  of us?”

‘Selfie’ taken, Dana  got up to call a taxi. Ben offered to give her a lift.

“Then I will know where to pick you up for the next time.”

It was Monday the following week when Dana met up with her work colleagues.

“Thanks guys. I had a fabulous time with Ben on Friday night. We really hit it off. Here is the ‘selfie’  I took of us. You couldn’t have chosen a better person to be my blind date.”

Dana held up her cell phone for everyone to see the photo. Jeff looked at it.

“But who is this?  It’s not the right guy, it’s the wrong guy! It’s not Bennett Johnson!”

“What do you mean? It’s Ben, it’s his  name , he was waiting for me in the restaurant.”

“You walked in and sat down at his table?”

“Well, yes, He seemed to be expecting me.”

“Well, that’s not Bennett. What did he say about the olives and tendering for his food stores? Or did you forget all about that?”

“He said he could help.”

Just then the phone rang .

“Hello, yes,  Hi Bennett. What happened with the blind date on Friday? What? You went to the Bombay room? We told you our friend was going to the Bamboo Room. We’ll have to try and set you up again.”

Dana, who was listening, gave a laugh.

“Game over guys, not with me you won’t”