Page 28 of King of Hearts

“Piss off, dickhead. I know you saw the photos. Coop has sent at least fourteen different versions of them.” Seb barked a laugh at my irritation.

“You’re definitely not getting any sympathy from him. You just missed him actually – which is lucky for you by the looks of it.” He raised his eyebrows and I sighed.

“Yeah. She’s a reporter. We were having dinner for that interview I was telling you about.” I shrugged half-heartedly.

“Never known you to have dinner with an interviewer let alone eye-fuck her so blatantly.” I choked on my whiskey which only made his arrogant grin wider. “Cooper wants to know if you did more than eye-f –”

“Don’t!” I demanded, sending Seb into another fit of laughter.

“Now we are getting to the crux of you being here.” He appraised, grinning at my grimace before turning serious. “They aren’t all the same, you know?”

“Of course I know that,” I lied.

“Mate, what happened to your mum was fucked. No one is going to argue with you there. I get why you don’t want to talk to them or have them anywhere near your family, but they aren’t all going to be like those wankers were.” His words were punctuated by the sound of him returning his glass to his large oak desk. There was a small part of me which knew he was right. Knew that I shouldn’t let a few bad apples spoil the bunch, but anytime I tried to forget, I would see Mum’s swollen eye or the cut across her forehead from where she fell.

“You think this one might be different though, don’t you?” His question gave me pause and I looked at him for a while before I finished the last of my drink.

“Honestly – I don’t know what I’m thinking at the moment, but I wasn’t in my best form after they took the photos, so it probably doesn’t matter anyway.” My admission was quiet, and Seb let the words hang in the air before he stood.

“Well, you’re going to have to see her again so you should probably pull your head out of your arse and work out what it is you are thinking and speak to her. Otherwise Coop and Jay both said they could –”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence!” I growled following Seb out of the office, the sound of his chuckle cutting through the silence of the club.

“We can call them while I drive your arse home.” He threw over his shoulder and I gritted my molars knowing I was going to need a hell of a lot of patience to bite my tongue.

Chapter Seventeen

Arna

Since the side of my face and arse became the hottest celebrity in Sydney, sleep had been a foreign concept. I’d taken yesterday off work, refusing to leave my room or speak to another living person other than Marlee, who had Facetimed me no less than eleven times to ensure I was still alive. Dad also called to see how the dinner went, and I was eternally grateful that neither he nor Nan used social media otherwise the conversation would have gone down a very different path.

It was only a matter of time before the pictures made it to the paper though and then it was game over. While most of Sydney were playing ‘who is the mystery blonde’, Dad would recognise me immediately and then I would be in for a world of questions from Queeny. My one saving grace was the fact my booty did look pretty good in those jeans and I mentally high-fived myself for that small slice of positivity among the rubble.

I’d spent a fair amount of time assessing the photos. I zoomed in on the way Andy was staring at my mouth as I flicked his tag back into his shirt more than I would admit to another living soul. I also felt the warmth of his arm around my body when I looked at the images of my back. The security he afforded as he pressed me into his chest to hide my identity from the men who wanted to pick me apart sat front and centre in my mind as I drifted off to sleep. But had I heard from him since that night? No. The apology text I sent the morning after was left onread,taunting me whenever I glanced at my phone.

Why did I drink so much at awork dinner? Lowering my inhibitions, when I already found him as alluring as I did, was never going to be a smart decision. To be fair though, the second I came out of my room and saw him standing in my living room, all thoughts of work were out the door. The man had a presence like no other and I would be lying to myself if I continued to pretend I was not deathly attracted to him. I wanted to press my nose into his neck and breathe him in like an addict desperate for their next hit. The man was the personification of sex and we had gravitated towards each other as the night went on, but then Barbara took over, egging me on to take it further. If she had her way, the photographs plastered on every online media outlet would instead show my hands roaming further inside his shirt while I licked his cheek or bit his jaw.

I mean in hindsight, it could have been so much worse.

It was with that self-assured justification that I continued working, disregarding the closeted conversations of my co-workers who were undoubtedly discussing my current celebrity status. However, I could no longer ignore them when Darren arrived with his usual convoy of women. His shirt untucked over his large stomach and as usual his tie sat a few inches higher than it should. The man was a slob and he sought out any young female worker drawing them into his circle like moths to a flame. It was sickening and while I would never be caught dead pandering to him the way the interns and other editors did, a small part of me wondered why he pitted me as the enemy.

“Arnabelle. My office.” The impatience in his tone startled me and the room instantly fell silent, all eyes on me.

Composing myself before I glanced up towards him, I replied with an artificial nonchalance, “Just a minute.”

Grabbing my mug, I first headed for the kitchen to make another quick coffee. Partially in an attempt to take a second longer to suppress my frustration but also to get one last drink out of this company before I was sent packing.

When I entered his office, Darren was sitting at the round table with his regular scowl. Felicity and another new intern, I think her name was Chloe or Cara, were sitting either side, their conversation ceasing the moment I arrived.

Wasting no time, Darren chastised. “Arna, would you like to explain why you are plastered over every media site, other than Urban Pulse, in what could only be described as a compromising position -with a client?” He tapped his pen against the desk while he waited for my response. Arrogant prick.

“With all due respect, Darren, isn’t this a conversation we should be having in private?” I questioned, maintaining eye contact. If he was going to fire me, he was going to do itafterhe saw the side I usually kept on a leash while at work.

Felicity had the decency to look uncomfortable as she pretended to voraciously read whatever was on the screen of her laptop. However, Chloe/Cara was smirking at me, enjoying my discomfort, and I wanted to bitch slap the smugness right out of her.

“Given the fact that your photograph is all over Sydney, I wouldn’t think you cared about privacy.” He flicked his hairy fingers in the air dismissively. “I’m concerned, Arna.”

“Concerned about what?” I asked, knowing exactly what he was about to say.

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