Page 11 of King of Hearts

The trill of my alarm woke me and I swiped the snooze button to turn off the god-awful noise. I never was good at getting up on the first go, although recently I was down from five alarms to three, which I considered a success.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I noticed I was still in my clothes from yesterday. Reefing my phone from the bedside, I noted my medication sent me into the land of the unconscious for over fifteen hours. I clearly needed it, but I was still going to require a mega-coffee on the way and it also meant I didn’t compile my notes from yesterday. Wiping my hands down my face, I groaned, knowing that meant I was going to need a good update for Dickhead Darren when I waltzed into work this morning. He already thought I was inept and his reply to my email insulting both my intelligence and competence had very nearly resulted in a reply including my resignation and some carefully selected obscenities.

Grabbing my clothes, I quickly got ready, swiped an apple and a packet of crisps from the pantry, the two most important food groups, and headed for the door.

The sun was bright - like why is someone pointing a laser beam into my eyeballs bright - and I rifled through my handbag for my sunglasses with one hand, while I unlocked my phone with the other. Marlee’s name filled the screen as FaceTime connected. After reading her profanity progressively worsening over the course of her messages, I decided a call was best. As it connected, her face filled my screen and I put my earbuds in, bracing myself for the onslaught. Rather than berating me, she simply stared at me, waiting for an explanation.

“Why do I have 63 missed calls and 112 text messages? Are you insane? I told you I was sleeping off a headache.”

“No!Yousaid you would call me later once your medication kicked in. It has been almost sixteen hours, Arna! You’re lucky I didn’t call the police to come looking for you. I almost called Paul.” She shuddered at the mere thought.

“Can you keep your voice down,” I said, as I lowered the volume. “It isn’t even 8:00am, woman. I did sleep through though and I feel so much better today, thankfully.”

“You’re forgiven, bitch tits.” She said smiling. “Now tell me everything about yesterday. Like right this second before I combust.” She positioned the phone on what I assumed was an exercise bike. It was Tuesday which meant she should have quit her new health kick ready to try again next Monday, like the rest of us normal folk. But the woman had too much energy for her own good.

“Hello?” She said, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Oh sorry, yes, literally why I was calling! So, you won’t believe where I met him. He invited me to - hi, can I get an extra hot flat white please, double shot. Thanks. Sorry, Marls. Anyway.”

“Arns, this conversation is more important than your coffee order, hurry up.”

“Blasphemy. Nothing is more important than coffee and I know you agree with this.” I grabbed the cup and mouthed a thank you to the barista before heading back outside.

“True. Anyway, where did you meet?” She pleaded eagerly, her eyes wide, and I knew she was going to love this next part.

“Marlee. It was at hisapartment.” I whispered the final word like it was a secret I wasn’t supposed to divulge. The non-disclosure specified the address could not be shared, however, nowhere did it explicitly state I couldn’t tell my BFF what it looked like. The gravity of the grandeur and beauty was only just hitting me now as I described his place to her.

“Shut up. Wait! I’m getting off this bike before I fall. TELL - ME - EVERYTHING.”

I shook my head at how dramatic she was being over someone who kicked a ball around.

“Your obsession with this sport is something I will never understand. Anyway, it was insane, Marls. His house is amazing. Penthouse, right in the middle of the city. He has aspaon his balcony overlooking the Harbour Bridge.” Andy hadall thatand here I was, just wishing for a glimpse of natural light. The contrast to the view from my bedroom was baffling. I rarely opened my curtains because you could touch the neighbour’s kitchen window which meant they could, and did, stare at me while they had their morning cereal.

“Honestly, you have lived my dream. I have so many questions. But first, please tell me your headache was due to him screwing your brains out.”

“If only. Although –” I took a sip of coffee, my eyes rolling back as the warmth radiated through to my stomach. “He did look ridiculously hot yesterday. I mean, he was wearing sweatpants and his hat backwards and –”

“Hat backwards?” She clarified, cutting me off, “You’re doomed. You love that shit.”

I nodded slowly. “I know. But, like last time, I barely got anything from him – and not just because my head was attacked with a sledgehammer. He isn’t easy to read and anytime he says something remotely interesting or personal, he realises and throws a bucket of ice water over everything. I doubt I will be forgiven twice for destroying an interview like this, so I may need to crash with you for a while if I’m evicted from my dungeon for failing to pay rent.”

“You know you’re always welcome, but you also have an adorable grandmother and father who would happily host you. It is beyond me why you torture yourself with having to even see Paul when you could be living the life with Queeny. I mean her stories alone are epic.”

“Marls, she literally asked me yesterday if I knew what erotic fiction was.” Her laugh erupted through my earbuds and I silently shook with my own mirth. “Honestly, I was both impressed and traumatised.”

“Your nan is the greatest. Let’s have dinner with them tonight. I have a million other things to ask but I have to get ready for work. Call me when you finish, yeah?”

“Yep. We can commiserate my termination from work and Felicity getting my job over a glass of wine.”

“As if – you are brilliant and they know that.” She said, waving and ending the call.

Sighing, I looked up towards the block of offices I spent far too much time in and braced myself for what was sure to be another prickly conversation with Darren. If he mentioned how I should wear makeup or put more effort into my appearance, I was going to punch him in the throat.

Chapter Eight

Arna

While I would never move back home, coming for a meal was the highlight of my week and left me feeling warm and emotionally satiated. Mum died not long after I was born and Dad, drowning in his own sorrow, moved back into his childhood home with Nan so there was someone else to help raise the baby. A baby who, at the time, reminded him so deeply of his loneliness that he struggled to connect with me in the early days.

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