// Minutes later - Near Sydney Harbor Bridge, Sydney, Australia //
I was looking for a taxi to Tara Guest House, after my success on BridgeClimb. In my Hermès travel bag were the climb group photograph, a Certificate of Achievement, a cap, and the claimed complimentary ticket to the Pylon Lookout. They fitted uncrumpled in the bag because I travelled light this time.
This Sydney B&B, which I’ve found on a friend’s blog site, is in the edgy South Sydney district of Enmore. Now that I am out of job, I decided to keep my budget tight and go for the less expensive ones, unlike the Park Hyatt Sydney, across from the opera house, where Ethan and I used to stay.
The best thing about this guest house, according to the blog, is its historical features. It was built in 1880 for a music teacher named Mrs. Ryan. No wonder a piano is said to be found in each room of the property.
To my daze, a familiar voice called out my name, the echo fighting with the noises of talking people and speeding vehicles.
Apparently, Anthony saw me on his way to the train station, after work.
“It’s rush hour. Taxi is difficult at this point.” He glared cordially, as he neared me. He did look extra masculine in those blue jeans and gray shirt, without the special jumpsuit.
“You must be starving,” he talked again, which I wasn’t aware of until he reminded me. And I now began to wonder if he was just being friendly to a tourist or he was asking me out. I didn’t want to misread the signals.
When he had the chance, Anthony walked closer and gave me a more steady look.
“You were great back there in the BridgeClimb and I thought we could celebrate it through a dinner.”
By the looks of his face, inviting and more charming at night, I tried to ponder on my next words. I didn’t know if his intentions were good, or he’s just some random guy seeking for his next prey.
In awe, I tried to utter a small syllable of "um," tried my finest to be friendly, too. I wanted to say no and that I was tired, but what the heck, I had nothing to lose at this point in my life. Besides, he did look mellow and riveting.
“Okay.” I finally had the courage to agree and wished this wasn't something I’ll regret later on.
Anthony was pleasing enough to lead the way. We walked through the harbor, him asking if I was a vegan or have a special need of gluten-free food.
“No,” I responded politely. In our walking, I knew he already had an idea of where to take me, and I prayed from moment to moment that I was in off-the-hook hands.
We walked through the Playfair Street in The Rocks, and entered a cafe with a series of "+" signs on the signage board. Chairs and tables were available outside, and a menu board that stood gloriously at the entrance.
Anthony asked me to take a seat in one of the tables outside, and began to order without me running though the menu. He acted as though he’d already known my taste buds.
“You’re gonna like it,” Anthony spoke as we waited, his golden hair flopping forward onto his forehead. For a moment, I studied Anthony, and gave me an impression that he’s an easy-going guy. He loves whatever comes in the way. Laid back and approachable.

Almost immediately, we were served a Santorini wrap, the vegetables looking like they were freshly picked from an Australian rural farm. Anthony’s Mediterranean choice of nutriments felt like he’d known me more than I know myself. He sensed I’m not into eating non-sense, and he amazed me at that very moment.
Anything from the Mediterranean region always reminds me of my family trip to Santorini when everything else in my life was perfect.
“Take a bigger bite,” Anthony demanded as I chew. My mouth was timid not to get full and spill any vegetable out. But the flavor… a psychoactive twist.
For a moment, it didn’t feel like I was dining with a complete stranger in a pavement full of people.
A smile was all that I could manage for Anthony, to fill the brief pauses in between our chat. Then I peeked at the cafe’s signage again, couldn’t help but analyze those series of "+" signs on it.
I wondered what “+” meant like? Was it a “positive sign” that something good is coming? A “plus sign” that a new guy is about to be added to my life? Or simply a “cross” that he’s just another burden to carry?
Anthony put down his glass of iced tea and studied me deeper, looking at me straight in the eye after he took his last bite. He was so drop-dead serious I had to slide down my gaze, giving me that feeling like I wasn’t strong enough to face him again.
Either way, I thanked him for bringing me here as I stirred my soda with an eco-friendly straw, making the ice cubes clink, to destruct myself from his steady stare.
“My pleasure.” To my surprise, he winked, overly confident it made me look away suddenly. I wished I could simply find a way to process all these without stumbling. What was that wink?
Then he leaned back against his seat, and gawked at me more seriously, his eyes now displaying a blend of curiosity and fondness.
“I can’t help being curious,” he said initially, looking through my ring finger, making sure I wasn’t engaged or snapped up.
And I… I could only hope he won’t ask for something men usually ask, like go somewhere else, or grab a bottle of beer and hook up.
This very moment, with another man, felt strange to me again. A decade with Ethan made me forget how to handle some flirtation again. I hoped I wasn’t making a mess with Anthony.
Rather, Anthony asked, “Where are you staying?” His eyes growing inquisitive.
In a guest house in Enmore, I wanted to tell him but I only ended up with a stunned face and silent mouth.
“It’s not like I’m going to follow you and do whatever it is that you see in movies.” To my surprise, Anthony was thinking of the same thing. He knew I was nervous. “I was asking because I was hoping to help you find a place to stay tonight,” he defended, letting his gaze travel over my increasingly stunned face. “You know, a foreign country is not always safe for a lady travelling alone, especially the pretty ones,” he added, his look as though he was anticipating for my help.
I wasn’t sure if it was a fair gesture, but he was so charming I simply watched him speak, especially the part when he outstretched his arms and rested them on his nape. He was so full of confidence. I could melt just by listening to his voice.
Finally, I admitted I was staying in Tara Guest House. I said it was something I found on my friend’s blog site, and he only watched me speak, fascinated, and I now began to wonder where this was going.
I reached for my purse by the time we’d finished the meal but he beat me to the draw. He was quick.
“Leave it to me,” he said, his hand stopping me, as his other hand reached for his wallet.
“But I…”
He stopped me before I could continue.
“Consider it a compliment because you survived the BridgeClimb,” he smiled and continued with a more gentle tone. “Not everyone can do that, especially by someone with a fear of height.”
His eyes sparkled harmoniously with the street lights behind him. And at that very moment, something glowed inside of me. The feeling… almost unreal as though a call for a second chance.