‘How is that gonna help me get Kit and Charmaine to their happy-ever-after?’ I shook my head and took a big swallow of the cocktail. The richness of the cream made the blast of mint sneak up on me. It was like having my brain blow-dried. ‘I can’t switchher love interest to James. That would be a really disappointing turn of events for the readers who are actually following my series and rooting for Kitmaine.’
‘I know. I’m not suggesting that. But maybe the rival would help up the tension? Perhaps then Kit can put in a bit more effort, show her that he’s not what she thinks. Like, err…Sandy inGrease.’
‘He should put on some black stretchy pants, smoke some cigarettes and perm his hair?’
She gave me a wry look. ‘Metaphoricallyspeaking, yeah.’
‘I guess it’s an idea,’ I said grudgingly. ‘I’m really not sure I want to reintroduce James, though. Or maybe I just don’t want to redo anything. Maybe I don’t want tobea writer anymore. It’s too hard.’ She outright laughed at me when I said that, which was fair because there was no way I could ever be anything but a writer. ‘Where do I start, Keesh? Help me, please,’ I whimpered and rested my chin on my hand.
‘You need a hero, little lady?’ a male voice drawled near my shoulder.
Chapter Seven
Elle
Islanted my eyes to the side and sighed.
‘Wow. That didn’t take long,’ I muttered.
‘For God to answer your prayers and send me?’ A stocky man with cropped hair, sun-bleached at the tips, took up the space between me and Keisha. I’d learned enough from my dad about reading people to be able to tell immediately from his dominant body language and over-groomed appearance that this man was the nightmare jock she’d been talking about. If misogyny wasn’t his middle name, narcissism probably would be.
‘For two women enjoying a night out to have it interrupted by a man,’ I corrected him.
‘You didn’t sound like you were enjoying it.’
‘And yet, I was still having more fun than now.’
‘Well ain’t you sassy.’ He looked down at me and puffed out his chest. ‘Or should I say nasty.’
I widened my eyes and looked at Keisha, seeing if she agreed that my next response should be to stab him with my candy cane.
‘Look, we’re not interested in anyone joining us, OK? I’m sure any other time you’d be great company,’ she blatantly lied, ‘but we came here to have a quiet chat about some work issues. That’s it.’
‘So, you’re saying that on another night, you might like to hook up?’ All his attention was on her now. This was the problem with letting men like him down softly – but it was a million times harder for Keisha because if she was anything other than “nice” she got accused of being aggressive.
I tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention back again. ‘We’resaying: no thanks, leave us alone.’
‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ He turned on me so abruptly I recoiled and would’ve toppled off my stool but for the surprise appearance of a firm, warm palm pressing into the middle of my back.
It wasn’t the pest touching me, it was some helpful other person who had appeared, his hand lending me a barrier of strength just long enough for me to regain my balance, before immediately relocating to the table, his shoulder inserted between me and the rabid jock. My rescuer was clad in a pale blue shirt, only the back of his dark head and a sliver of sharp jaw with a neat short beard visible from the way he was standing in front of me.
‘Logan, let’s leave these women to their drinks. My food’s arrived and I haven’t said hello to anyone else from work yet.’ His accent was English, his voice smoother than Manuka honey and oddly familiar.
I craned my head around on an angle like a demented owl, trying to see his face. It couldn’t be…
Logan set his jaw. ‘I was getting somewhere with—’
‘No. You really weren’t.’ Mystery British Guy interrupted Logan-the-Loser and clapped him on the shoulder in a way that loaned good nature to the outright contradiction. He was the taller of the two and although not beefy, he held himself so straight, so poised, he radiated confidence, but I could sense tension there too – and no wonder as he was challenging his meat-headed co-worker in front of us.
Logan shrugged him off but moved away to the bar in a sulk, without another word to us. Mystery British Guy watched him go and threw a brief glance and an apology in our direction as he started to move away: ‘Sorry about my colleague’s behaviour. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.’
He disappeared into the crowd of customers waiting at the bar before I got a chance to see his face properly, but my heartwas skipping along. God, I really, really thought it might be him…
‘That was a shame,’ Keisha commented.
‘Huh?’ I stopped straining my neck to see over the crowd and gave her back my attention. ‘The unpleasant interruption?’
‘Yeah, but also that the cute British guy didn’t stick around.’ She folded her arms on the table and leaned closer to me. ‘You liked him, right?’
