Divorced at forty one. Not the way Patrice had thought her life would go. No children had arrived and she was cheated on by her ex, Peter, who had wanted kids, and it all went down hill from there. But she considered she had won the divorce at least. Peter had been very well off.
The flat was hers. Not a luxury penthouse, but pretty good. She did not need to work to survive, but for a few comforts in life, she worked from home online, and was settling in to single life again. Of course this wouldn't exactly go the way she expected either, or these words would not exist.
Up one floor via two opposed flights of stairs, and down a short corridor were two doors, facing each other. Number three on the left was Patrice's and opposite was twenty one year old Nathan's number four. Known as Nat he was a personal trainer, six foot two and of course, athletic and gorgeous.
After about six weeks Nat and Patrice had met, talked a few times and had coffee twice, one in each flat. Nat thought Patrice looked like the actress Keeley Hawes, which in his mind was no bad thing. He liked a woman who was just straight forward good looking, not an instant sex kitten. More, real.
"Your predecessor, Jenny, and I had a key to each others door, I'm sure you can see the problem of being locked out on the first floor, not even an open window in easy reach. Would you like us to do the same?" Asked the blond hotty.
"I must admit the thought had crossed my mind, yes, if you don't mind?" Pat replied. "That would be a comfort. What happened to Jenny by the way?"
"She was eighty seven..." Nat said quietly, "Nice lady."
It was after their fourth coffee, this time in Nat's place, that Nat asked what Pat was doing on Friday night, he had an invite to a friend's anniversary party and no one to go with due to a late bout of Covid at his other friend's office. After a little thought and checking things like the general age of the guests, Patrice decided a little letting down of the old hair might be good for her. Nothing more or less than that, even if she would 'be on the arm of' a good looking young man.
Casual dress, not much to go on really, did that mean dress to impress or, dress to impress while trying not to look like you've dressed to impress? And for Patrice, well, not to look like mutton dressed like lamb, or mutton dressed as mutton even. Now a little over forty two this could be a bit tricky.
In the end, a simple black knee length skirt with a small split up one side, and black court shoes, a silk like red blouse with two buttons undone and a lightweight black blazer like jacket seemed alright, and since she thought her legs were still quite good, no tights. Nat seemed quite impressed when he opened his door, an obvious looking over brought a pleasant smile to his face.
"Hello Nat glad you came." Said Allen, the host, "Liz will be happy to see you. Oh and who might this be then? Punching well above you're weight my friend, well above. Greetings lovely lady," he said talking directly to Pat, "How on earth did this reprobate convince you to be seen in public with him?"
Blushing slightly at the late twenties man's obvious flirting, Pat quickly said,
"Oh he was desperate so as his neighbour I took pity on him, He has promised to behave though, I'm Pat by the way, nice to meet you Allen."
"First time for everything I suppose, come on in, lets lose the coats and get you both a drink, important things first eh?"
After several versions of the explanation for Pat being Nat's 'date', it wore a bit thin, but everyone was rather nice and Pat realised she was out of practice with socialising and enjoyed making new acquaintances, having left most of her previous ones with her ex husband. No one commented on the age difference if they really thought they were a couple, and Pat honestly felt relaxed and safe.
Next morning Pat awoke with just a slight headache and a feeling that she'd had fun, but couldn't recall getting home. She felt O.K. Apart from the head, and her only concern was that she hadn't done anything silly last night. Her clothes were as she would normally have left them, and the flat was still tidy. The thought that she hadn't got up to anything with a certain fit young man was both reassuring and honestly, a teensy bit disappointing.
But she in no way considered herself vastly attractive to a man half her age, rather more of a plain Jane. She sighed and went to shower.
Over the next few months Pat an' Nat became sort of established, and Allen and Liz were friends in the normal sense of the word, and there were others that were more acquaintances. Patrice was getting invites directly, not as a plus one.
