Page 18 of King of Hearts

He turned from me, walking to collect the football, but not before I saw the look of fascination twinkle in his eyes. Was he as confused as I was? Or was me and my big mouth going to have him turning mute again.

When he came back, the football in his large hand, we headed from the field, the moment gone. He didn’t say another word until he thanked me for coming but the farewell was taut with a strange tension. We hadn’t secured another time to meet and I wouldn’t have been able to if we tried. I was flummoxed and horny and in no state to be making rational decisions.

Nice work, Frost. You messed it up again.

Chapter Eleven

Arna

Looking around the deserted office, I counted at least three other editor’s desks, yet despite this, my inbox was always full and they were never anywhere to be seen. Darren’s incompetence as a manager meant he couldn’t evenly distribute work and I was often flying solo. Though, Urban Pulse was predominantly a nice place to work. They did their best to keep their employees happy with an abundance of coffee, fruit and snacks stored in the lunchroom and an amazing flex policy which meant you could take necessary leave without the guilt. There were branches across the country and employee surveys signified high rates of staff retention and overall positive wellbeing. However, sadly, in the Sydney office, Dickhead Darren brought with him a black cloud that rained on those he didn’t like or who didn’t stroke his enormous ego. Which included me.

It was lunchtime on Friday before I was finally in the right headspace to type my notes from my most recent interview with Andy. Oftentimes, it was late on the last official day of the working week when the office was at its most quiet and I welcomed this and the accompanying ability to concentrate. I’d opened my laptop every night since our meeting to record everything I remembered, but something always stopped me and I instead spent my evenings with a glass of wine, pondering the man who I was writing about.

He was fickle and I found his abrupt nature disconcerting, yet, like a train wreck, I couldn’t look away. I remembered the way his eyes flared when I mentioned his diligence as the leader of the club and the way he visibly gulped when I acknowledged how his body plainly reflected his training regime. And just like the other million times I recalled these memories, my own pulse increased and I gravitated between regret and intrigue. So again, I procrastinated and moved back to devouring every word previously written about him or the team. At the very least, my knowledge on the Hearts was increasing which I knew Marlee would appreciate.

From the few interviews published, he was depicted as an egotistical man who filtered through women with little regard for their feelings. It matched the impression I took from him in our very first interaction, as he adorned an arrogant and dismissive charade, giving me very little of himself. However, I hadn’t really held that belief since, nor had he said or done anything even mildly inappropriate.

If anything, he now seemed relaxed in my company other than when he was obviously affected by my words – if I read his body language correctly in our last encounter. But he was quick to mask his reaction and before I knew it his walls were once again firmly in place. Even when my own traitorous lady parts wished they weren’t. They were hoping, on multiple occasions, that he would use his deliciously olive and impressively large biceps to pick me up, pin me against a wall and ravage me. Regrettably, they were lacking in decorum and it was for the best that they did not make my life decisions or I would have far more interesting notes to write about Mr. Andy Gloss. Whether that content would be worthy of publishing was debatable. There is no doubt that there would be a market out there willing to pay top dollar for information on a sex-capade of which he was thecaptain, however, Urban Pulse was likely not the platform.

After my uncertified Dr. Phil moment where I afforded a verbal diarrhoea update on who I perceived him to be, I’d spent a significant amount of time wondering if I both overstepped my position as interviewer and displayed a lack of manners which would have Queeny less than impressed. But for some unfathomable reason I couldn’t be deterred when I was with him and when he gave me that opening, I took a gamble. There was just something fascinating about him and the more I scratched, the closer I felt to really seeing him which only fed into my determination.

In my mind, I could see the article coming to life with a catchy headline, photos and an insight into him as a person tastefully sprawled across the front page of our site. I planned to include some candid photographs, something I needed to organise today as the waiting list was often lengthy, as I knew these were rarely taken from my sleuthing. I would also need a few more hours with him, focusing on things other than how sexy he was, to provide a holistic view of the man so many Sydneysiders admired.

Securing a photographer with prospective dates, I grabbed my phone from my desk drawer and brought up his contact. The anticipation of messaging him simmered in my stomach as the sound of my nails tapping against the screen filled the air. After a few attempts at phrasing, I finally hit send before I could overthink any further.

Arna:Andy, I was hoping to get some photographs for the article as well as have another chat. Please let me know when you’re free. A.

Darren chose that exact moment to waltz over to my desk with Felicity in tow. I begrudgingly wanted to find a flaw in her appearance but she was undeniably beautiful and the hints of gold in her amber hair only highlighted the similar colours in her eyes. In an ideal world, I would have jumped across my desk and sent her back the way she came before kicking him straight in the groin. However, fulfilling those daydreams wasn’t going to pay the bills, nor was it going to secure me the promotion I was so desperate to obtain. So, fixing a faux smile across my face, I was the picture of approachability.

Darren exuded chutzpah as he looked down his nose at me, hands in his pockets.

“Flick and I were just discussing the upcoming feature. How is it coming along? She can edit for you if required.” I actively focused on my breathing as the lava in my stomach churned for release.

Do not punch him in the dick. Do not punchhim in the dick.

Ignoring his attempt to aggravate me, I gritted my reply. “Article is coming along well actually. I spent a few hours at the clubhouse the other day and we are organising a day to get some photos.”

“That’s great, Arna. I can’t wait to read it.” The bona fide tone of her words took me by surprise and I searched for something in her features to contradict my original assessment.

“Yes, Flick was just saying how it was unfortunate she couldn’t do the interview herself this time but maybe it was going to be worth seeing what you presented.” Affronted, my eyes darted back to Felicity where she appeared genuinely vexed.

“What I said was how Andy would accept no one else to complete the feature afteryou, in his words, ‘faced a roadblock’ at the first meeting.” She offered.

“Yes, of course that’s what I meant,” Darren fumbled. “Anyway, Flick and I have a meeting now with the Melbourne office. Feature is in the next edition, right?” He clarified.

“That’s the plan.” I replied, knowing this was dependent on the mood of my interviewee.

“I expect so.” He huffed as he sauntered away, Felicity close behind, but not before she offered me what appeared an empathetic eye roll.

One minute she was glaring at me like she wished she could make me disappear and then sometimes, like just now, I almost felt sorry for her. I couldn’t work the pair of them out.

I remembered my early days in the industry and how challenging it was to assert yourself and find your place – and not for the first time, I wondered if her abrasiveness was a misinterpretation on my end and she was simply trying to survive.

Before I could consider the idea any further, my phone beeped and I glanced down to see Andy’s reply.

Andy:I am free for dinner tonight?

Dinner?

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