King of hearts, p.10
King Of Hearts, page 10
The door swung open to a bloke wearing a gaming headset, an AC/DC shirt and a pair of jocks.
What the fuck.
He stared at me with the same puzzled look I was accustomed to receiving for approximately three seconds before recognition laced his features.
“Holy shit!” He whispered. “S’up man. You play for the Talons, yeah?” After scratching and then readjusting his dick, he extended his hand out to greet me. There was no chance that I was shaking said hand after where it had just been, instead turning my fist towards him to knock knuckles.
Christ. Now I was someone who gave knuckles greetings.
“That’s me.” I said, ignoring the fact he got the team wrong. “I’m here to see Arna.”
Stepping aside, he took the headphones off his head. If he was shocked to see me standing at his door on a Friday night, the mention of Arna was evidently more baffling to him as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Oh, uhhh, sure. Yeah, let me get her. Come in, come in. Sorry, I haven’t really cleaned up.” He said, grabbing empty pizza boxes and discarded bottles from the lounge.
“Babe, you have a visitor.” He called as he took the rubbish into the kitchen.
Babe?
Surely not. If this guy was her boyfriend it was going to be the biggest how did he in the history of all relationships. She was out of his league.
Turning, he smiled, gesturing for me to sit on the now clear lounge while he moved to sit on the leather backed chair at what was very clearly his gaming area. Two computer screens sat on top of an old dining table and judging by the significant amount of open energy drinks and bowls of who knows what, he spent a lot of time here.
“I’m Paul, Arna’s, umm, boyfriend.” I was careful not to show any visible reaction to his words other than to simply nod. I remained on my feet, wondering if she would be long as I looked up the hall in the direction he called for her before. “She probably didn’t hear me. Let me get her.” He offered, walking towards a door and saying a little louder. “Babe, you have a visitor.”
The door swung open and I heard her voice – clipped and authoritative. “I’m not your babe, Paul.”
Stepping out, her eyes immediately met mine, widening when she realised I was standing in her living room.
“I told you to message me and I would come out.” She choked as her cheeks flamed red. There was uncertainty in her voice as she quickly pulled her door closed, making sure it was locked before turning back to face me.
“Sorry. I was a little early so I thought I would come and grab you so you didn’t feel the need to rush.”
Paul was still standing near her door, his headphones strung around his neck. His eyes moved between us, watching as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was witnessing.
“Give the man a break, babe, it’s not every day we have a Talons’ player in our home.” He sauntered towards her but she held up her hand to stop him and narrowed her eyes. I almost laughed at the indignant look on her face and was glad not to be on the receiving end of that as she admonished him.
“Firstly, he plays for the Hearts. Secondly, if I wanted your opinion I would have asked and thirdly, if you call me that again I will shove your headset down your throat.”
Pressing my lips together to prevent my laugh escaping I turned and headed towards the door so neither of them could see my smile.
“It’s been a pleasure, Paul.” I said over my shoulder, waiting for Arna to leave before following her out.
Hints of sweet butterscotch and citrus drifted over me as she moved past and I couldn’t stop my eyes from moving down her body to that gorgeous arse of hers. She wasn’t wearing her usual business attire tonight, instead donning a pair of light denim jeans which highlighted the gorgeous shape of those hips, a tight white t-shirt and black heels. Fuck. She was sexier every time I saw her and with her hair pulled back from her face so those piercing eyes were front and centre – she was a sight. She did not fit in with this apartment at all and given Paul was clearly not her boyfriend as he implied, I had to wonder why she was living here.
So many unanswered questions I was desperate for her to answer. But I had to remember this woman was none of my business and I had no right to know anything about her life. This was a business meeting, and that had to be at the forefront of my thoughts – not how fine she looked in those skintight jeans or the things I could do to someone as unique and beautiful as her – none of which were remotely work related.
Chapter Thirteen
Arna
He came to my flat. Andy Gloss stepped foot into the septic tank where I currently lived and was now probably wondering why he ever agreed to work with someone as pathetic as I was. Someone who, at twenty-seven years of age, did not appear to have their life together.
I inwardly cringed. The whole thing would have been humorous if I wasn’t so bloody embarrassed.
After we stepped out onto the street, I felt myself relax a little as the night air soothed my flaming neck and cheeks. I needed to move out of this place before I committed amicicide. Although, it was a big stretch calling Paul my friend. Some days I could punch him straight in the face and feel absolutely no guilt and today was one of those days.
Babe.
Gag. I would NEVER be his babe.
I mean, I couldn’t ignore how he always made sure there was sourdough and Vegemite in the cupboards as well as copious packets of popcorn because he knew they were my favourites. But he needed to learn to read a room and quit telling people I was his girlfriend.
“Sergio, this is Arnabelle Frost.” Andy’s low timbre sliced through my simmering irritation as he gestured towards the man who stood by the car parked at the kerb.
“Good evening, Ms. Frost.” Sergio bowed slightly in my direction and waited for me to approach.
“Hi, I’m Arna. It’s lovely to meet you, Sergio.” Extending my hand, I noted the look of shock lining his features and quickly glanced back to Andy, who also held a semblance of surprise. Sergio shook my hand briefly, before taking a step backwards to let us enter the car.
What the hell was that all about, I wondered, as Andy turned his body to face mine.
He looked good. Capital gee Good. He wasn’t wearing a hat tonight meaning I could really see his face and what a sight it was. His gaze resembled a rich mahogany reminiscent of freshly brewed coffee and he had soft laugh lines creasing the edges, a sign that despite his spicy exterior, there was a personality buried in there somewhere. His brown hair, slightly longer in the centre, was cut short around the sides and lightly faded into the subtle stubble which lined his jaw.
He wore a short-sleeved, pale blue collared shirt which contrasted deliciously with his sun-kissed skin and his beige chinos held tight against his clearly strong legs. Just my luck. The first man I was physically attracted to in all the dates I had been on, was of course a work associate.
“Thank you for picking me up. I’m so sorry about Paul.” I said, hoping the lack of lighting in the car would hide the flush which crept back to my cheeks. The captain of the Hearts saw the squalor I called home, and then introduced me to his driver. The contrast was laughable really. For the sake of my dignity, I would need to ensure any potential future meetings were as far away from my place as possible.
“Interesting guy,” he said, a smirk on his face. “What’s the story there?”
“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you the questions?” I said, deflecting flirtatiously to hide the quiet discomfort which lingered from whatever judgement he probably made about my living conditions.
“Touché.” He laughed, and again I bathed in the feeling of making him happy. When he fidgeted a little, readjusting in his seat, I followed the movement, watching the way his hands moved to rest against his thighs. Flushing, I had to look away as I wondered what it would be like to straddle him.
Seriously, what was wrong with me?
I was giving myself a hot flush with the inappropriate thoughts and suddenly wishing I was a cowgirl was the mildest of things coursing through me. Consequently, the sooner we got out of the back seat of this car, the better.
“Believe it or not, Paul is actually quite a nice guy. Just lacks an understanding of women.”
“Most of us do.” Andy retorted and I laughed, nodding in agreement and thinking back to when I had thought the very same thing.
“He’s been my roommate for a few years now and while he’s innocuous, I’m on the way out. Just need to save a little more. Sydney is expensive, you know?” I said, shrugging. “Anyway, you don’t care about my rental history. Sorry.” I said, waving my hand through the air before continuing despite my apology.
“I talk A LOT. This is probably why I spent not even one full semester at university studying the art of interviewing because I talk too much. Again, you do not care. Oh my god, I need a muzzle.” I gently slapped my forehead, willing myself to shut the hell up.
When I snuck a side glance at Andy, he was staring at me with a huge shit-eating grin and it transformed his entire face. He was undeniably noticeable with his usual scowl but with mirth in his eyes, he was deadly.
“You’re an enigma to me, Arna.” He was still smiling, a soft humour in his tone which emphasised the compliment in his words.
“Ummm, thanks. I guess I’ve been called worse.” I said, smiling back at him.
We settled into a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the radio echoing from the front seat.
“Question, why did you and –” I pointed towards Sergio, not wanting to be rude when he could likely hear me, “Give me a strange look back there when I introduced myself?”
He shook his head briefly. “Like I said – enigma.”
Still not sure what he meant, I was prevented from seeking any further clarification when the car came to a stop. We were here already? Time seemed to fly when I was in his presence and I wasn’t sure what to make of that but the tension was only going to thicken with how desperate I apparently was, so fresh air was necessary.
Thanking Sergio for the ride, we headed into the restaurant. Andy walked close behind me, my breath hitching slightly when I felt his hand rest against the small of my back. Doing my best to contain my shiver, I wondered what Darren would think if I conducted the feature, but also took Andy for a ride. I mean, just for a night.
For research purposes, obviously.
Was that frowned upon in the journalism industry? A question which was slightly concerning given I was only half-joking. The heat from his hand was clearly muddling my very horny brain and I needed to move away from his magnetic pull before I turned around and launched myself at him right here, job be damned.
Thankfully, the waiter arrived, offering a distraction as he directed us to our table in the back of the restaurant, away from most of the other patrons. Andy waited for me to slide into the booth, my body suddenly cold with the absence of his touch, before moving in next to me. He settled, leaving only a small gap between us and while I pictured tonight being far more formal, with us taking opposite sides of a table, I was not complaining.
“Thanks, Dale.” Andy said, and I turned to him with my eyebrows raised questioningly. “I don’t venture out much because of, I guess, well – this is one of the few places which offers privacy if I don’t want to eat alone in my apartment. I just message Dale – he’s my manager’s son – and he does the rest.”
“Kieran, right?”
“Yeah. Pup was sick of me ordering pizza, I think.”
“Pup?”
Andy chuckled at my puzzlement. “Have you seen that movie with the huge St Bernard – Beethoven?”
“Yes.” I replied confused.
“When Kieran first came into the locker rooms, one of the guys told him he resembled the dog with his big eyes and cheeks. So, the name Pup was born and unfortunately for him, it stuck.”
I giggled, shaking my head. “Poor, Kieran. Well, I’m glad we were able to meet here tonight,” I gesticulated to the restaurant. “Although sometimes I forget these chats are work.” I added honestly.
Andy watched me, his face unreadable. “I don’t want to talk about me tonight. I want to know more about you, Arna.” He said, pouring us both a glass of water from the jug situated on the table.
“That is literally the point, Andy. I’m interviewing you, remember.” I remarked, smiling shyly before taking a sip of my drink.
“Thanks for the reminder,” he said teasingly. “Look, you already know I hate interviews. I find it easier to talk when I forget you are only here with me for your job. So, how about we trade information? Hell, you can make yours up and I wouldn’t even know, although, I uhm - I guess I would prefer it if you didn’t.” He looked so vulnerable that my heart pinched a little and I softened.
Was he used to people only showing an interest in him when there was an ulterior motive? There was so much more to him than the character portrayed to the world and suddenly I was desperate to know it all. Especially why he was so guarded.
“Deal. What do you want to know? We could move from my childhood to my blood type, to my favourite band, with literally no rhyme or reason because if you give me no direction, I will likely speak for an hour and next thing you know I’ve taken all our time. Shit, see. I’m jabbering already.”
Chagrin, I took another sip of water and swallowed in relief when Dale reappeared ready to take our orders.
Get it under control, Arna.
Chapter Fourteen
Andy
We hadn’t even ordered our entrees and I knew I was in serious trouble.
Despite my original resolve on this being a business arrangement, those cognitive nudges were becoming fewer and far between. With Arna, conversation came easy which was a definite first for me in the company of a woman. Not to mention a very fucking beautiful woman, with no idea just how gorgeous she was, a sense of humour and an impressive brain in her head. Most shockingly of all, she hadn’t asked me about my dating history or made jokes about how many females I was photographed with.
This was unchartered territory which made me oddly uneasy and yet abnormally curious. Arna was like a puzzle without instructions, and I was hell bent on figuring her out. I felt compelled to have her complete this feature because, for the first time, I believed the words written wouldn’t be coated in condescension or peppered with sly falsities which, like grains of sand, infiltrated people’s thoughts and damaged my reputation.
Readers never wanted to know about the success of the Hearts or my contributions to the team. They were hungry for information on how many women I had slept with, when I was planning on settling down or why I had never had a long-term girlfriend.
Ironically, they were the reason. Abominations.
Choosing to play football for a high-profile club meant you lost your right to anonymity. You lost your right to grabbing an early morning coffee without fear of being photographed. You lost your right to serendipitously meeting new people without having to wonder if it was truly by chance or premeditated. You lost your right to freedom, sometimes even in your own space.
I often wondered if this was what I always wanted, especially on the days when people told me I was the luckiest bastard they’d met. Or when I wasn’t allowed to dislike the media or intrusive strangers, because I was ‘living the dream’. Always uttered from someone with no experience of what it was like to be afforded no privacy.
Yet tonight, I was sitting in a public place with someone who, six months ago, I would have hated on sight, and I was enjoying myself.
“I’ll have the eye fillet please - medium - and a gin and tonic. Thank you, Dale.” Arna said, closing her menu and turning to me. I had been so lost in my thoughts that my own menu still sat untouched.
“Sounds good, I’ll have the same. Cheers, mate.”
Dale nodded and took our menus before retreating.
“Pup did well with him.” I said, tipping my head towards the direction he disappeared, and Arna’s chuckle gave me pause.
“Sorry,” she apologised. “It’s just he has the same puppy-dog eyes as Kieran and I’m ashamed to say I can see how the nickname came to fruition.”
“See,” I said, nodding enthusiastically at the mirth in her eyes. “Dale is studying law and works here most nights. Pretty busy life for a young kid. He has a good head on his shoulders.”
“I could say the same about you. I’m sure you’ve had a similar schedule since you were his age. When did –”
The sound of a phone ringing cut her off and she reached into her purse before glancing at the screen. “Sorry, it’s my dad, do you mind if I answer?”
“Not at all.” I was strangely interested to hear her have a conversation with someone who wasn’t me.
Smiling gratefully, she answered. “Hey Dad, how are –,” she paused abruptly, staring at the table as she listened. “Dad, it’s May. Christmas is more than six months away.” She rolled her eyes, mouthing an apology to me. I shook my head in understanding, a smile forming on my face.
“I’m at a work dinner, Dad. Let me think ab–,” again she stopped, turning away slightly. The soft murmurings of her voice were a cute attempt, but I could still hear her. “Yes, I’m with him now. I’ll call you later.” She hung up, looking mortified and I couldn’t control my grin.
“Andy, I’m so sorry. My Dad is outrageous sometimes. He called to ask what I wanted for Christmas. It’s MAY! The man starts shopping earlier and earlier every year and he buys gifts for like three people. Anyway, what were we talking about?” She ran a hand down her long ponytail, pulling it over her shoulder.
“You’ve told your dad about this interview?” I asked, a small smile still lingering. Of everything she just explained, I fixated on the possibility of her thinking about me after hours.
