Page 30 of King of Hearts

“My princess and Andy Gloss in a photo together, hey? Thelma and Nancy won’t believe it.” Queeny gushed like she had won the gossip lottery and in the grand scheme of things, I guess she had.

“So, what do you need our opinion on?” Dad asked, lifting a coaster from the table and spinning it between his fingers.

“The photos look a little, argh, like, ummmm, it looks as though we are on a date,” I said speedily. “And now my boss is questioning my journalistic integrity, for fuck’s sake.”

“Watch your mouth, Arna.” Queeny reprimanded. Not even a potentially juicy story could get in the way of her view on good manners. I flashed my palm, acknowledging my mishap before continuing.

“And I need to finish the write-up. I mean, it’s the biggest opportunity I’ve ever been given at work, but Andy hasn’t contacted me since. He hates the media, it seems, but he also said he won’t do the interview unless it’s with me, so I’m confused.” I flicked my hand in the air as if that was a story for another night and continued. “But maybe Darren is right. Maybe I’m not the best person for the piece because the photosarequite convincing. Those photographers and their stupid angles.” I took a breath and looked down at my nails feeling embarrassed by the vulnerability I was displaying.

“Well, seems pretty straightforward to me, Bellsy.” Dad began. “You want the article, you do the article.” His matter-of-fact simplicity crystallised the situation in a way which made things seem easier than they felt. Until now, it hadn’t felt like a choice was even afforded but regardless of the accompanying bullshit, I did want to do the piece. Dad always was good at helping me to see reason and I nodded at him contemplatively.

“When you put it like that…” I conceded.

“And if that doesn’t work out, maybe I can conduct aninterviewwith him.” Nan winked at me at the same time Dad pushed his chair back.

“I need a bloody beer.” He huffed, grumbling as he walked out to the fridge in the garage. When he left, the laugh I had been holding erupted out of me.

“Queeny, are you trying to send him to an early grave?” I asked, still giggling.

She shrugged, as if what she said was nothing short of ordinary.

“If you want my two cents, and you obviously do because you’re here, and honestly, who wouldn’t? You say he doesn’t like the media, but he is meeting with you for the column, yes?” I nodded as she placed a tea towel on the table along with the others she had just folded. “It sounds like he feels comfortable enough to me, and maybe the photos – which I will be cutting out of the paper and taking with me to coffee with the girls by the way – scared him a little. Maybe he just needs a push. Most men do.”

“Have you even dated since Pop?” I questioned, sarcasm clear in my words.

“Well, there was a gentleman at the club who bought me a bottle of Port. Think he hoped it would lead to more, but I’m not interested in some old codger. I want someone young and fit. Preferably someone who plays football and is maybe evenfriendswith the captain of a team.” Her mischievous grin split her face and I rolled my eyes, unable to stop myself from smiling. Pop had been gone for nearly forty years after a sudden heart attack, and from what Dad said, Queeny never found it in her to move on. Made sense given how horny she always seemed.

No wonder he also slipped into the life of a widow so easily.

“You are unbelievable, Queeny.” I said, chuckling.

“But in all seriousness, princess, you are good at your job. Instead of wondering if you are the best person for this piece, show them why this walking sex dream won’t allow anyone but you to conduct the interview.”

“NAN!” I barked. The woman was relentless. “You might be right.” I agreed solemnly, as the epiphany hit, and I knew exactly what I needed to do. I clasped my hands together on the table as I smiled at Queeny. Her familiar absurdity only reaffirming my decision to come here today.

“Hear that, Pete? Arns said I was right.” She called out to Dad who was likely still hiding in the garage, hopefully with earplugs in too.

“He won’t answer but he knows.” She mumbled. “Now Missy, either help me put these clothes away or put the kettle on because I need a cuppa while I tell you about this book I’ve been reading.” Leaning in close she whispered, “It’s erotic fiction – have you heard of Mills and Boon?”

“Oh my god, Queeny. Has anyone ever explained the term over-sharing to you?” I exclaimed, covering my face with my hands and wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

Chapter Eighteen

Arna

- and pressed send.

Within five minutes my inbox dinged, and I sucked in a breath when I saw it was a reply from Andy.

Cursing at my laptop as the internet took its time loading, I turned the brightness up on my screen and greedily read his words the second they appeared.

I re-read his email at least ten times before I leaned back into my pillows and closed my eyes, a smile spreading across my face. He still wanted to work with me, I would be seeing him soon AND he knew how to use punctuation. Was this what infatuation felt like?

Grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl resting next to my leg, I hit reply.

Blushing, I grabbed my frozen meal out of the microwave with one hand and raced back to my room. Hopping back into bed, I took a sip of my wine and grinned as I typed.

I pressed send and felt my eyes widen at my own audacity. Time seemed to pass so quickly when I waswithAndy and before I realised, I was halfway through the bottle. The wine clearly travelled straight to my fingers because despite my earlier email holding a suggestiveness, there was no mistaking the flirtation in my last one.

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