Free Year of Being Single by Fiona Collins

you feel special… the perfect man for a dinner date… kind, courteous and handsome and know how to treat a lady… gorgeous straight men who love the company of women.
She quickly scanned down the photos. Most of the men looked smarmy, had goatees, were in dinner suits, or suits and ties; a lot were channelling Mr Grey or The Bachelor, from that American TV series. One looked like Gary Barlow and was straddling a ridiculously tiny bike saddle, dressed in pink and grey Lycra.
    She stopped at the next photo. ‘Text Greg,’ it said, underneath. He looked nice. Late thirties? Navy blue short-sleeved polo top. Dark blond hair. Handsome grin. Most of the other men had closed-lipped knowing smiles, or one eyebrow raised, like ridiculous Roger Moores; Greg had his face half turned to the camera and was smiling like a normal person. It was a very informal photo. It was as though he’d quickly put up a casual photo with plans to put the real one up later…when he got round to posing in a dinner jacket and hauling up his left eyebrow.
    She studied him. He didn’t look like an escort. He looked like an older boy next door – if the boy next door was a cross between Brad Pitt and Liam Hemsworth, that was, not the low-rent Ron Weasley lookalike who always wore a grey tank top, as was actually the case.
    Text. Okay. She could just text him, if she wanted to. She could hire him,
if she wanted to
, to go to the theatre with her for Nana McKensie’s one hundredth. She could afford it. James was paying her maintenance for Daniel, she had her earnings from
Hats!
and her gran had left her some money, a few months ago. She’d never told James; she didn’t know why. This money was just
hers
, to be put by for a rainy day. And if this wasn’t a rainy day, she didn’t know what was.
    A male escort. It was almost hilarious. Once, years ago, in the large circle of her and James’s London friends, a rather hapless bloke called Ed had turned up for dinner at Wagamama’s one night with a really stunning woman. Everyone had been really surprised – Ed hadn’t had a woman with him for months and he was definitely punching above his weight with this one. They all stared at her for most of the night, and tried to get him on his own so he could be quizzed.
    After loads of booze, and when Stunning Surprise Girlfriend had gone to the loo, Ed was drunk enough to ’fess up, after unconvincingly trying to make out he’d met her in a Tesco Metro. She was an escort. Once, just once, he said, he wanted to turn up with a stunning girl on his arm and have everyone wondering.
    They never saw her again. Ed must have spent too much money on cocktails, or perhaps he didn’t want any ‘extras’, as at the end of the night he saw her off into a taxi with a chaste kiss on the cheek and they all went to get a kebab.
    Grace remembered it was a cold night and how happy she’d felt when James had put his arm round her to pull her in close. When James had kissed her in the street after purposely making them drop back from the others. God, he was handsome. She was his and she loved it. She’d been spectacularly happy… Oh God.
    She put James back in the box in her mind and slammed down the lid. James was gone.
    After pouring the remainder of the bottle into her glass and taking a huge swig, she grabbed her phone and quickly sent a text to ‘Greg’, before she chickened out, or wondered too much if that was his real name.
    Hi, just want to make an enquiry? Grace.
    As the text sent, she got up and skipped a bit, nervously, around the room. Then sat back down again and stared at her phone. A text appeared.
    Hi Grace, hope you’re having a great evening. Would you like to know my prices and range of services?
    She panicked.
Range
of services! This was actually real, wasn’t it? Oh God. She was in danger of completely bottling it.
    I’m not sure!
Frantic texting fingers.
    Do you just want to chat?
    Okay.
    Oh, relief! Yes, just chat, they could do that.
    If