Sofia – the meet cute  #1 San Francisco job networking event
 It was his voice I heard first—deep, with a sexy tone that rumbled through me.

“I’m in the mergers and acquisitions department. Possibly you’re acquainted with the bank?” he asked the balding man next to him. “It’s a global company whose headquarters are located here in San Francisco and in London. We’re looking for fresh talent, someone with experience in finance. The organization has an excellent training program.”

The line moved up, but I hung back, waving at people to take the place in front of me. Obvious? A few sideways glances confirmed that my chivalry wasn’t going unnoticed.

His voice came from my right, only a few feet away. I shifted in my high heels and casually pretended to brush a piece of lint off my shoulder, then caught sight of him. It may have been only four or five seconds, but as my eyes raked across his features, time seemed to slow, as if watching a movie at half speed. To say he was gorgeous wouldn’t do him justice. That face belonged on the cover of GQ magazine. Tall, dark, and handsome with refined, perfectly symmetrical features, luscious full lips, and, God help me, a chiseled jawline resembling Adonis. That was the moment I knew I was in trouble.

He continued his pitch to the short man in a suit. The man wasn’t over thirty-five, but the back of his head was already thinning. Sexy guy stood over six feet tall, his bronzed olive skin and tousled dark curls effortlessly stylish without seeming overdone. Even his clothes were sexy, although it was more about the way they fit his frame. My eyes scanned him from bottom to top, taking in his leather shoes, indigo-blue designer jeans, a white-collared shirt, and a black sport coat cut close to his body, revealing broad shoulders that led to a slender waist in a V shape. When he raised his arm to retrieve a business card, his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his jacket. Holy shit.

A buzzing sound rang in my ears, muting the conversation, but I watched as his face broke into a wide smile, dimples forming like perfect punctuation marks on his cheeks. Without warning, his head swiveled a fraction to the right and his eyes caught sight of mine—sparkling, deep blue eyes that held me transfixed for a split second. Then, in one swift (not obvious at all) move, I brought my hand to my hair and, as I flicked it over my shoulder, my gaze shifted to the blond woman directly in front of me. Thank God I was next in line.

A flush bloomed on my face, not solely due to the hot flash racing up my neck. Stop right there, missy, I told myself. He’s too young, probably in his thirties. I’d never needed a drink so desperately. Forcing my view straight ahead, I ordered a gin and tonic when I reached the edge of the bar.

“Make it two, please,” his voice rang in my ear.

 

Sofia with Ryan – meet cute part 2 – background on Sofia, Ryan being charming
“I have a house in the Sunset. Been there about twenty years. The city is changing, or maybe it’s just me, but I’m getting tired of being here. To be honest, I’m in serious need of a vacation and a change of scenery.” Especially now, I thought to myself.

“So… are you flying solo or with a partner on this getaway?”

I had to smile at the way he slipped in the question. “I’m divorced and single.”

He shot me a sideways glance, and I glimpsed those dimples. “Surprising, again, Sofia. Any specific destination in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t have any plans in the works.”

“But if you were to make an escape…?”

Without thinking, an answer immediately pinged into place. “It’s been ages since I’ve been to Europe. I’d love to go back.” Memories of the trips I had taken after college flooded my mind like it was yesterday. The red-tiled rooftops of Italy, French pastry shops lining the streets of Paris, the haunting history within the walls of the Tower of London. I still recollected the offending odor of unwashed socks while sharing a sleeper car on a night train with my two girlfriends and several male backpackers. No hardship, including hitchhiking on a freeway to catch our flight in Nice, had diminished the thrill of experiencing a world so different from the one I grew up in.

With a sudden stab of regret, I was painfully aware too many years had slipped by without ever leaving home. Marriage and family had changed my priorities. The furthest I’d traveled was to the east coast for our yearly trip to visit my in-laws. You learned a lot about your husband when thrown into the middle of his family dynamics, and believe me, it was no vacation. How did my life veer so off-track?

Just then, Ryan whistled, flagging a taxi. The driver pulled to the curb.

“Let’s go. I know where I want to take you.”

My feet stayed planted on the sidewalk while he opened the door of the taxi. “I can’t just run off with you. My friend is still inside.”

With a wink, he dared me. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Sofia? I promise I’m not an axe murderer. You’re safe with me.”

My feet betrayed me. I stepped into the backseat, saying, “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what an axe murderer would say.”

 

Sofia with Ryan – San Francisco – Meet cute #3 – The invitation. The sprint.
“By the way, are you Spanish?” he said.

“That’s random. Why do you ask?”

“You have those Spanish eyes… they’re dark, quite beautiful, and wildly expressive.”

I felt a blush rising on my cheeks. Okay, maybe it was another hot flash. I took a sip of wine. “Um… Thank you. I’m half Spanish, on my mother’s side.”

“Do you speak the language?”

“Does cursing count?” His eyebrow lifted. “She rarely spoke Spanish unless she was mad or yelling at my dad. I don’t think that’s going to help me communicate in a foreign country.”

Ryan leaned in, a grin lighting up his features. I couldn’t take my eyes off those dimples. “I have an idea,” he said. “You want a getaway in Europe, and it so happens I’m headed to Barcelona for a vacation in a couple of weeks. I already have an apartment reserved. Come with me.”

I placed my wine down on the table without taking a sip, afraid to take any more chances swallowing while stunned. “Wow… Um… That’s…”

Ryan jumped in. “Impulsive? Maybe. But why not?”

“Because this is not what grown women do. You’re thirty-five. Impulsive trips are perfectly acceptable at your age,” I said, immediately regretting sounding old.

“Oh, so there’s an age limit on taking a vacation?”

“No, but I have responsibilities.”

“So do I.” He batted the ball to my court, and I sent it right back.

“It’s not practical to just… just run off.”

He volleyed. “Because life always has to be practical? Everything neatly planned out?” That ball landed squarely at the heart of the matter, so naturally I got defensive.

“I can be spontaneous and impractical sometimes, when I want to.” This time, I downed the rest of my glass.

My phone vibrated on the table, a text appearing from Christy. Damn. She was looking for me. Without thinking, I opened the Uber app and booked a ride, then met Ryan’s questioning gaze. “It’s my friend back at the event. I’ve got to go.” I popped out of my seat and grabbed my bag, prepared to sprint.

“Wait. I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s fine. You stay and finish the food. The Uber driver will be here in two minutes.” I reached inside my purse for my wallet. “I can leave you some cash for—”

He held up his hand. “It’s my treat. But can I get your number? I’d really like to see you again.” Now he was standing inches from me, his eyes pleading with me to concede.

I shifted my gaze to the alleyway. Those beautiful eyes were tempting me, but I held steadfast. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. But thank you for everything.” It took all my strength to turn away from him. Even as I did, I questioned my decision. Then I reminded myself of the promise I’d made. I won’t ever let this happen again.

“Wait.” He reached for my hand and pressed a business card against my palm. “In case you change your mind.”

My phone pinged with an alert. The Uber driver was at the end of the alley. “Goodnight, Ryan.”

It wasn’t easy to sprint on cobblestones with stiletto heels, but I propelled myself down the alleyway like it was midnight and I had to reach the car before it changed into a pumpkin. But princes didn’t exist, and those shoes were too expensive to leave one behind. As I opened the door to the coach—or rather, the car—I ventured a last look back. Ryan was standing by our table, still watching me. I tucked his business card in my purse and slipped into the back seat. 

 

Sofia – with her best friend, Madison at a bar. A humorous commentary on age gap dating
Madison swiveled on the bar stool and scanned the seating area. It was far from packed, with only a handful of tables occupied. Suddenly, she blurted, “Let’s play a game of I Spy.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She proceeded, ignoring my question. “I spy with my little eye… something gray with something red.”

“Are you kidding me?” When she rolled her eyes at me, I gave in and scanned the room. I spotted a gray-haired man in a dark gray suit. He was speaking directly to the woman’s cleavage, fringed by a red dress. “Do you mean that couple over there?”

“Ding. You earned a point. How much younger is that hussy in red?”

“I’d say a ratio of thirty-five to sixty.” Now I realized what she was up to. I picked out another couple. “I spy with my little eye, something bald with something blond.”

Madison barked a laugh. “They’re making this way too easy,” she said, her voice too loud. The bald man noticed her stare, given that their table was only a few feet away. He shot her a look, his gray eyebrows lifting against the lines on his forehead. It could have meant anything, but I laid odds he was thinking, “WTF?”

As soon as Madison opened her mouth to speak, I preemptively cringed. “Sorry, my friend thought you looked familiar. Our mistake. You and your daughter have a nice evening.”

The man glowered at us at the same time Rick broke into a hysterical fit of laughter from behind the bar. Not even the noise of ice rattling inside the shaker could disguise his utter amusement. Simultaneously, we pivoted, our backs to the bald guy. I covered my face in my hands, nearly imploding trying to stifle the giggles. After my shoulders stopped vibrating, I said, “How do the men get away with it?”

Madison answered, “They just can. It’s socially acceptable. And if they have money, there are no limits. Women fall for money, status, and power.”

“So much for gender equality. It’s the same old status quo. If I did that, I’d be labeled a predatory cougar. Women are judged for dating even five years younger.”

Madison took a long pull of her drink, then slammed her glass down on the bar. “So, fight back. There must be a way to find this Ryan dude.”

After a moment, I peeled his card out of my purse. “There’s one thing I neglected to mention.” Cringing, I plunged ahead. “He invited me to go to Barcelona with him.”

 

Sofia and her younger friend, Christy, entering a job network event. “A woman’s guide to dating”
It was a relief to take shelter from the brisk San Francisco wind when we ducked in the entrance of the Hawthorne. A cute twenty-something girl smiled up at me from her seat at the long table, crossed my name off the list, and handed me a color-coded name tag. She noticed my puzzled expression. “Green is for mental health. That’s the field you entered when you signed up for the event.” I glanced at Christy and gave her a thumbs up. At least she’d registered me in the right category. The receptionist pointed to a chart. “Each job market has their own color, so when you meet people, you’ll automatically recognize if it’s a match for you.”

I sidled up next to Christy after she received her tag. “You know, I think men should have to wear a color-coded tag so when you meet them at a bar, their status is crystal clear. Like, if the guy is married and looking for a hook-up, his color would be red.”

“That’s genius! Bartenders could hand out the name tags with the drinks.”

“Divorced, bitter, with a load of baggage and three kids would claim a yellow tag.” I snorted out a laugh. “Plaster that sucker right to his forehead.”

Christy got into it. “Single, searching for a one-night stand might be orange. Because, hey, it could be fun if you know the score ahead of time.”

I added, “Single, middle-aged, and looking for the mother of his future children but doesn’t want to disclose that detail…”

“Forget the label. Just put a target on his ass that says kick me!”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

 

Sofia – A look into her first impressions of Barcelona 
I rummaged through my suitcase and found a wrinkled long skirt and top, but there wasn’t time to search for an iron. After running a brush through my hair and giving my armpits a spritz of deodorant, I tore down the stairs.

The air was cooler now, yet still balmy when I stepped outside. Retracing my steps to the corner, I turned left onto Las Ramblas, then joined the throngs of tourists strolling along the center promenade. All around me, the atmosphere vibrated with the sounds of life in a big city. Horns blared at taxis clogging the road as they stopped to unload passengers, and music joined the chorus of sounds. One guy was blasting rap on a boombox. A guitarist sat strumming Spanish songs. Teenage girls giggled with their friends, and from every direction, I caught dangling pieces of conversation as people passed.

Surrounded by tourists, an uneasy twinge sent a prickle up my spine. I was entirely alone in a strange country for the first time in my life. And yet it was as if this beating pulse had absorbed me into something greater than myself—a community of fellow travelers with a common mission. There was a difference between being alone and lonely. Yes, I was traveling alone, but oddly, I felt far less lonely than in the familiar surroundings of my home.

High above me, a canopy of lacy leaves glowed against the angled light as I continued strolling, passing by outdoor terraces, souvenir shops, and gelato stands. Something in me was shifting, almost imperceptibly at first. My mood brightened with each step. My shoulders relaxed and the muscles in my back lengthened. A little voice squealed in my head, I am in Barcelona! Halfway down the promenade, my face broke into a giddy grin for no particular reason at all.

When I finally reached the bottom of Las Ramblas, the sun had almost disappeared, sinking behind the hills next to the port; the horizon flooded with color. Clouds trimmed in pink and gold streaked across the darkening blue sky. The towers and spires of the Gothic style rooftops took on a magical appearance, as if silhouetted against a watercolor painting. It was the most stunning spectacle I’d ever seen.

I found an empty bench in front of the harbor and sat down, mesmerized by the fading sunlight shimmering on the water. Luxurious yachts rocked with the tide, tugging gently on the ropes, the angle of the light setting them aglow in golden hues. Seagulls swooped low as if preparing to make one last dash for a snack before calling it a night, their caws mingling with the sound of gentle waves lapping against the dock.

It was all so surreal, as if I’d landed in the middle of a dreamscape. I could hardly believe that in just one day, I had crossed the ocean to arrive in Spain. And now, sitting on a bench in front of the Mediterranean Sea, my problems slipped into a haze, like a lens out of focus. The magic of travel, I thought, presents itself in the contrasts. Overnight, I had been teleported into a completely new world. It was exactly the balm I needed for my frayed nerves.

 

Sofia with Ryan – honest dialogue + chemistry
“Why did you leave so abruptly the night we met? You specifically asked me about my age. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

My stomach sank to somewhere around my toes. Two tables over, a toddler resting on his mother’s lap sent a glass toppling to the ground, and the shatter made me jolt in my seat. Reliving the awkward moments, the uncomfortable feelings of that night, I avoided his gaze. He’d laid the cards on the table face up, but I wasn’t prepared for this discussion. Between the heat, the sangria, and his questions, I sensed my skin reddening.

“Um… if we’re being honest, your age is only part of my reservation.” I hesitated a few more seconds while he patiently waited. “Look, I’ve just had a bad break-up, and I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone. I’ve been disappointed too many times.” I lowered my eyes to my lap, my fingers twisting a defenseless scrunchie band.

“I get it, but have you considered there’s a good chance I might be different from those other guys?”

A laugh escaped me, along with an embarrassing snort. “And how are you any different, Ryan?”

With dramatic flair, he mimed plucking an arrow from his chest. “Oh, Sofia, you wound me. I’m not a player, if that’s what you’re worried about. I prefer dating women with some maturity because they have more life experience, which leads to more interesting conversation and… in my opinion, much better sex.”

Something in me tightened. If he was aiming to seduce me, it was working. With one glance at the glimmer in his eyes, his full lips slightly parted, tiny fireworks exploded across my skin, but I couldn’t let him know. “Are you inferring that we’re going to have sex?” I cocked an eyebrow.

“Let’s take this slow. I’m not about to risk scaring you away again. But think about it, every time we meet someone, we take a risk. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t mind living dangerously, but when it comes to dating, I’m not down with free-falling off a cliff. Then again, if we don’t take chances, we might miss out on something great.” His gentle smile almost convinced me, but there were a dozen rebuttals forming in my mind. My body, however, still reverberated with explosions.

 

Sofia discovering Barcelona
Much like yesterday, the magic of the city seduced me within minutes, discovering delights around every corner. I made a mental note of my favorite spots, although I didn’t have a clue how I’d find them again. I walked for countless hours through the Gothic Quarter, still not able to identify which direction I was heading. Even the blisters on my toe and the sunburn blushing on my shoulders didn’t deter me.

After winding my way through a maze of alleyways, by some miracle, I found myself in front of the iconic Barcelona Cathedral. My eyes scanned its intricate facade—the stained-glass windows, towers and spires, and hauntingly configured gargoyles. But the action in the square below the steep steps captured my attention. At least three different musicians were stationed around the plaza, and flocks of tourists traversed in every direction. Just when it seemed the scene couldn’t get more chaotic, a troupe of acrobats appeared in the center, hurling themselves into the air as onlookers cheered in amazement.

When I followed the path, I discovered medieval ruins around the corner of the cathedral. Roman walls and towers stood crumbling but preserved. It wasn’t on a grand scale like the Coliseum in Rome, yet there it was, in the middle of the bustling city—a snapshot of history that had survived through the ages. The ancient stone walls formed a circle, and even the tall trees which were rooted there, their heavy limbs bearing enormous, dark-green foliage, seemed to have thrived for centuries. This spot, I noted, was also a popular place for group selfies, the ruins serving as a backdrop. As for me, selfies weren’t my thing (given they made my nose appear absurdly huge), but I took a few shots of the scenery to send to Madison.

Satisfied with my progress and dying for another glass of sangria, I finally spotted a free table in a hidden, tree-laden plaza. Paella was the specialty at this restaurant, although I suspected all restaurants here staked the same claim to fame. I knew I was taking a chance, but I had no idea they would serve my lunch on a plate the size of a car tire.

“This is an order for one?” I asked the server when he delivered the wheel.

He looked at me, perplexed. “Of course,” was his only response before he sped back to the kitchen.

The amount of rice alone could have fed a family of four. Still, I wolfed down almost half, devouring the shellfish and efficiently ignoring the eyes staring at me from the heads of five gigantic shrimp. Only a few days ago, I had been drowning my troubles with wine and junk food. I couldn’t have imagined I’d feel happy again just sitting on a terrace—dining on paella in the middle of the afternoon. Before I could sink into worrying about ‘what’s next,’ I forced myself to stay in the moment. Life is short and shit happens, so why not grab every ounce of happiness that comes my way? I reasoned.

 

First Kiss – a beach in Barcelona
Ryan halted in his steps, then pivoted toward me, closing the distance between us. His body gently pressed against mine, sending shards of heat where he touched me. One hand glided along my cheekbone, and he threaded his fingers in my hair. I waited in anticipation, our faces inches apart, my feet sinking into dampness as the tide ebbed at the shore. Just be in the moment, I told myself. Every fiber—every nerve ending—vibrated with hunger for him, and this time, running from the inevitable was inconceivable.

With my shoes dangling at my fingers, our eyes locked in an unwavering gaze, the tension slipping away, dissolving like grains of sand carried out to the sea. My view became telescopic, blocking out the sound of random voices and the music playing in the distance. In the silence of our private bubble, he bent his head and brushed his lips across mine with a gentle caress, then laid his cheek against my face. I heard his breath in my ear before he tilted his chin, and finally, his mouth was on mine, hot and wet. And, oh God, the taste of him; sweet, with a hint of rum and sugar. My lips melted into his and parted as he deepened the kiss, caressing my tongue with his. A tingle stirred deep in my core, a potent desire rising out of the ashes, claiming my body.

When he broke away, his head cocked to one side and the emotion I saw in his eyes made my breath stop in my chest. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

My fingers released the shoes, and as they dropped to the beach, I wrapped both arms around his neck. Standing on my toes, I brushed the tip of my nose along his jawline and invited him in again. I didn’t know how long we stood there, our tongues dipping and caressing while the world swirled around us in the dark. I let the moment envelop me without thinking, singularly focused on the taste of him and the feel of his hard body pressing against mine. 

 

Short one, Sofia on the flight to Barcelona, talking to a sophisticated older woman sitting in the next seat:
“He’s hot. Don’t let that one go.” Startled, I pivoted toward the woman next to me, a grin crinkling the lines on her cheekbones. She wore a chic, black ensemble, more elegant than anything I had in my closet.

I laughed. “Yeah, well. If only.”

“Do not argue with fate. The universe sometimes gives us gifts. It gave me Javier.”

I stared at her. “Your… boyfriend?”

Her smile widened, revealing perfectly white teeth. “I met him on my last trip to Barcelona, and this time, we’ll be traveling to the south of Spain.”

“How nice.” I smiled politely, picturing an older, distinguished gentleman at her side. “Are you going on a group tour?”

She scoffed. “Dear, I’m not about to travel with those old people. I may be turning seventy-five, but don’t underestimate me. We’re taking Javier’s Porsche and driving along the coast.” Then she shot me a wink. “He’s pretty hot for sixty.”

I barked out a laugh. “You go, girl!”

“But your man…” Her lips puckered in a whistle. “You could have some serious fun with him. And let me tell you, as the years roll by, you realize opportunities for romance don’t come around too often. Grab all the fun you can.”

I could have argued with her, pointed out the risks and pitfalls, but what was the point? Obviously, she seemed happy with her life. I wondered if I could ever be as free-spirited.