Catch Up

We had agreed to meet up for a drink, and you were late. It had been years since I’d seen you and I was nervous. I wasn’t sure how I wanted this to go. I didn’t want to end up sleeping with you again, I just wanted to see you, to catch up. I wanted to reassure myself that you were okay, doing fine. I couldn’t work out why I cared, but I did.
The piano bar you had suggested was really dark and quiet. There were only a couple of other customers in the place, down the far end of the bar. I’d been sitting, waiting for 10 minutes already and I was nervous. I pulled at the hem of the dress I’d worn, wondering again why I’d worn something so short and tight when I wasn’t planning on going home with you. I’d promised myself that.
The barman had given me a funny look when I’d gone up and ordered a drink. Sort of a leer with a wink. I noticed that he kept on looking over, probably wondering why I was drinking by myself. I felt self-conscious and pulled the little bolero jacket over my cleavage, cursing myself again for wearing something so revealing. What was I trying to prove? That I could still turn you on? What for? I didn’t plan on anything happening. I’d already decided. Just a friendly kiss on the cheek, a half hug, just like any other old friends meeting. We’d smile, have a drink or two, a bit of a chuckle over what we’ve done with our lives. After a bit, I’d say that I was tired, had to get back, that we’d catch up again some time. I’d give you another friendly little peck, and I’d leave with a confident smile.
So why was my stomach fluttering, why did I feel so warm? I finished my drink and saw my lipstick on the glass. Shit. That’d be right. You’d finally show up and there I’d be, looking a mess. I picked up my bag and looked around for the loos. There, past the bar down the other side, a darkened hallway and a set of stairs. I went down the stairs and past a couple of closed doors to the lit doorway down the end. The ladies’ was small, a toilet, basin, and mirror, just the standard set up. I went for a quick wee and took extra care dabbing myself dry. Why am I worried about loo paper fluff? Nobody’s going to see it. I wished I’d worn granny knickers and an old bra, just so I wouldn’t be tempted. But the black lace made me feel sexy, and the seam of my bra had been rubbing across my nipples for the past hour. I was annoyed at myself and quickly washed my hands and glared at my reflection in the mirror. No! Fuck it! I wouldn’t fix my lipstick or fuss with my hair. I’d go back upstairs and if you weren’t there well bad luck! I’d just go. I’m not going to hang around waiting for you.
I grabbed up my bag and pushed open the door. My head was down and I wasn’t looking as I started along the hallway back towards the bar.
Over the clicking of my heels on the floorboards, I registered another sound just as I drew level with one of the doors.