“Who invited the hawks?” I pulled my skirt closer to my knees as I watched the beady eyed men circling the club, looking for any kill in any skirt.

My good friend, Ralph, nodded, as if agreeing with me. “It’ll be good for you. You need some attention, now that you’re single again.”

“Yes.” His date agreed. “This is a great place to be single.” She put her hand on Ralph’s knee. “There’s lots of unattached men over by the bar.”

What kind of man would I want, if I were ready for attention? Was he here tonight? Wasn’t it a little soon for him to be out looking for suddenly-single-me? I allowed myself a quick scan of the room. Many men. Every age. Looking. Looking.

The man in the gray suit met my eyes. Oops. And so did the man in the tight jeans. Um. And the three round men sitting around the round table had also been waiting for my eyes. I squirmed. They were all watching me. Watching. Watching.

So. This is what people do on Friday night? Sit around watching each other? No way. Not me. I’ve never been able to tolerate this game. Not tonight. Never.

I inched my chair closer to Ralph’s and looked up into his face. “How was your day?” Maybe they would wrongly think Ralph was dating two women and I wouldn’t have to deal with male attention tonight. Um. Why on earth did I agree to leave my nest?

“Which one?” Ralph expertly scanned the room. “Who are you hiding from? I’m going to call him over.”

“No. Ralph. Don’t. Stop it.”

He laughed. “Who do you like? Come on. I’ll tell him you’re my cousin, like we used to do.”

I let out a long sigh. “Ohmygod. Is that what’s become of me? I’ve slid back to being your cousin in public? It’s been two years since we’ve played that game. How scary is that?”

Ralph’s flavor-of-the-moment leaned over. “What happened to your boyfriend, again?”

I smiled into her uncaring lipstick. I know. I know. She asked, but only because she was unsure about dragging me along on their date. “Well.” I said, slowly. “Cool-guy took up quilting.”

“Oh.” She soothed. “I’m so sorry.”

Ralph turned to her. “She’s kidding. Did you really think a man would do that?”

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned guiltily, totally expecting it to be Cool-guy demanding an immediate apology for starting a rumor about him and dull needles.

A handsome dark haired man stood looking down at me. “Excuse me for eavesdropping.” He charmed. “But are you making fun of quilters at this table?”

Flavor laughed. “Holly just told us her ex-boyfriend took up quilting.”

I cringed. It was the first time I had heard Cool-guy referred to as my ex-boyfriend.

Man laughed. “He’ll make a fortune. Have you seen what quilts sell for these days?”

Ralph brightened. “Maybe I should put my order in! I want many shades of blue.”

Flavor pouted. “Have him add a bit of pink to your blue. I like pink.”

Man looked at me. “So. You’re one of those women who doesn’t believe in handmade blankets?”

I folded my face into the ‘not home’ sign, but nobody cared.

Flavor laughed. “Holly. Maybe you should order….”

Ralph cut her off. He locked eyes with the man and motioned to me with the slightest tilt of his head. “You look like the kind of man who knows what he wants.”

I stared at Ralph. How dare he encourage this man.

Man puffed a breath of air, ready to lay out his life’s vision.

I stood up quickly. “Hey.” And backed away from the table. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

Man sat down and tried to penetrate my frown with the gleam in his eye.

I gathered up my purse and coat. “I’ll be just a minute.” I lied as I threw Ralph a look that might one day turn him to stone and found a fast exit.

The relationship I had for the past fifteen months was real. Heart wrapped around heart real. There were never any promises it would last forever and I have zero regrets for the ride. The surprise ending was far from any plan we had ever anticipated. I wanted out. Me. Go figure. The irony continues to amaze me.

At some point I’ll dip my toe back into the waters of love. But. How am I going to deal with the fluff that surrounds the world of dating? Made up names. Bloated life stories. Lame conversations. No electricity. Phone calls from the wrong men. Name dropping. Constant ex-wife jokes.

From real to fluff?

No way. I refuse.

You can’t make me eat fluff.