Chapter Seven

C hapter Seven

A rna

I t was official – I had whiplash and the inside of my cheek was raw from where it was clenched firmly between my teeth. The metallic tinge of blood was evidence of my frustration, but it was either that or snarl at him. How he was hero worshipped by half the city was beyond me. He was an absolute wanker. A painfully good-looking one, but a wanker all the same.

He sought me out to interview him, knowing full well it was a feature, which included talking about more than just football. But, when I asked even the simplest of personal questions, he rudely deflected.

He invited me to his house to complete said interview, yet it seemed whenever he told me anything even remotely interesting, he would internally berate himself and then act like more of a jerk to remind me of the power dynamic.

If my job wasn't riding on this, I would have packed my blank notebook and sauntered my arse right out of this breathtakingly bougie apartment after first dousing him with some Arna-honesty. I mean, the bloke was arguably the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on and his smell alone made me want to do unspeakable things to myself, but he lost a significant number of points due to his outrageously arrogant attitude. Unless you were going to show me who's boss while giving me multiple orgasms, you could leave the attitude aside. Thank you, sir.

Adding to that, my vision was starting to blur ever so slightly, indicating another afternoon overcome by a headache. I discreetly rummaged through my bag with one hand searching for my blockers, because a migraine was the very last thing I needed right now.

"What motivates you to stay focused on being the best version of yourself?" I asked as I again felt around before sighing inwardly. I didn't have them.

Squinting, I swivelled my body away from the light. I hated how sudden these headaches came on and they were getting worse as I got older. Dad said it was likely stress related, and given today's predicament, I was starting to think he might be right. If I was sitting in my office editing the mundane crap I usually did, I wouldn't be half blinded by the sun on this rooftop, with a capricious man who evidently liked to pretend to be someone he wasn't. Surely, he didn't think people bought the garbage persona he presented. I was no psychologist, but I had been in his presence for less than an hour and I already knew he intentionally maintained a fortress of arrogance and there was more to him than he portrayed. Did people only see what they wanted to see? I mean, I often edited what I would consider utter shit and readers still ate it up like it was the best snack in the world – so I guess they did.

"You okay?" He asked. I was doing my best to appear unaffected, but the sun was still piercing meaning my eyes were probably glassy. I was confident I would be able to manage this until I got home if we went indoors, but that meant being an imposition in a situation where I was already a fish out of water. Just my luck.

"Actually, can we move inside? I have a headache and I forgot my medication." There was no point in attempting to lie. It was clear I was fading and the fact he noticed made my heart pinch. I did not want or need him to whip back into being a nice guy. Hot and angry I could work with. Hot and thoughtful would be my downfall.

"Argh, sure." He stood and I followed him inside. If I had been fully lucid, I would have admired the delicious ridges of his thighs in those pants, or the crisp cologne he left in his wake. Our time was almost up anyway and after I took a nap, I would draft some notes from today and plan for our next meeting.

"Look, I think I will have to go." I said as he stood awkwardly looking towards the lounge. "I'm sorry we didn't get through a lot today. I will be sure to come with a list of pertinent questions next time." Reaching inside my purse, I grabbed one of my business cards and handed it to him. His thumb grazed mine as he took the card and I looked up towards him suddenly shy.

"How did you get here?" He asked, twirling the card in his hands.

"Um, I drove." I said as I walked towards the entrance. "It's not too far actually."

Andy was close enough that he leant around me and opened the door, startling me. I smiled up at him softly, storing the gesture away to ponder once my mind was a little less like an indoor basketball court during an intense practice session.

"I'll walk you to your car." He said quietly and I didn't have the energy to argue. Nodding I let him guide me down to the lobby and outside before I pointed to where I parked.

"I'm right there," I said. "Please let me know when you are available to meet again."

He nodded once. "Take care, Arna." He added meaningfully and I wondered if that was worry I saw in his eyes. Grabbing my sunglasses I walked to my car and prayed I didn't throw up on the way home.

Fumbling with my keys I reefed the door open, gagging at the smell of mushrooms assaulting my nasal canal. For fuck's sake. Paul and his putrid taste in food again. I could barely handle it on a good day, let alone when my head felt like it was being drilled into through my eyeball. The texture of mushroom alone was enough to make my eyes twitch but when they came out of a can, I just could not cope.

"Damn Arna, that skirt looks amazing on –" I slammed my bedroom door ending the conversation before it even began. Most days I did my best to avoid Paul at all costs. He was a nice enough guy, but he had zero concept of boundaries. I put a lock on my door after he walked into my room one night without knocking. He said he was looking for his keys but given what I was doing just before he entered, I was certain he heard my poor attempt to be quiet while I sorted myself out for yet another lonely night. The only reason I was still in this decrepit cesspit was because the rent was dirt cheap and I could not face the humiliation of moving back with Dad and Nan after the absurd Independent Woman speech I made when I moved out. Plus, he was relatively harmless, lack of perception aside. The plan was to buy my own place in the next few years, and this was the only way I was going to be able to do so, creepo roommate and all.

I searched through my other purse and found the tablets I was so desperately seeking. The drilling would soon subside into a bearable dull throb and ultimately see me through the night where it should hopefully settle. Laying on my bed I thought about the shit show which was my first proper interview with Andy. If that man were any hotter and colder, he could be a faucet. It was like managing someone with two very different personalities and he seemed torn over who he wanted me to see. There was no denying he had the temperament of a total arsehole at times and this was the way he was generally presented in the news. But at his house, in his sweats and with bare feet, there were glimpses that he was like any other man who enjoyed his lifestyle and came from what appeared to be a regular family. When he spoke of his parents, his smile was genuine and happy. His eyes softened and it was clear he loved them, yet it was a topic he was quick to shy away from. I probably should have focused more on his football career but I didn't know enough about the game and when he surprisingly opened up, I found I wanted to know more about him as a person.

I wondered if he would reach out to organise a follow up conversation after the abrupt manner in which I left. His decision to walk me to my car almost seemed as though it came from a place of concern and that was at odds with his behaviour for most of the meeting. Maybe I was reading too much into things and my interpretation was off, because my brain did feel as though it were stuffed with cotton wool.

Lifting one eye lid, I unlocked my phone and gazed at the screen. Turning the background light as dim as it would go, I typed out a quick email to Darren, informing him that today went well and I would give him an update tomorrow. Marls had called me six times and rather than returning her call, I opened my messages and replied. I was not great when I felt like this and even though I wanted to call her back, I could not host a conversation until the tablets took effect. She was going to lose her shit when I described his apartment and I wanted to enjoy that rather than having to hold the phone away from my ear.

Arna: Will call you later. Headache. Waiting for meds to kick in. Xx

The grey dots appeared instantly and I closed my eyes, periodically checking for her response.

Marlee: Oh. K. Call me asap. Rest first. Then give me ALL the details. Love ya x

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! You said 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 his apartment ." 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 a spa on his balcony overlooking the Harbour Bridge." Andy had all that and 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.