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“Honey, it’s not really a great time for painting.”
“Why not?”
I spread my hands and gesture around the tiny living area to the piles of stuff that somehow appeared in the space of a few hours since we’ve been home. Damian merrily tosses another toy over his shoulder and gets up to find something new.
I sigh. “Because look at this place. Where will you even do it?”
I end up forgetting about the phone call until in the middle of a Damian meltdown over Elsa saying she’s never watching his favorite film again because it’s for babies. My phone rings.
At first, I ignore it, but as soon as the first call ends, a second one comes through. I curse, hush Damian uselessly, and snatch the remote from Elsa to switch on Peppa Pig. Elsa starts wailing just as loudly as Damian and I put my hand over my ear to block out the joined cacophony of the TV and both my children when I answer.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Karas, it’s Stuart. I’m glad I caught you this time.”
Ugh, it was literally ten seconds between his first call and this one. I bite back my frustration. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve kinda got my hands full here.”
“I’ve sent you through some documents to the email you provided,” he says, ignoring my statement. “And I have a few questions before you’ll be allowed to appear with Mr. Tarvost in public.”
Allowed? Who is this guy?
The wailing from the other room reaches a new level of intensity and I cringe, shutting the sliding door between the corridor to the bedrooms and the living area. “I don’t have long.”
I really, really must be crazy about Jarra to even consider taking this call. The truth is I’ve been daydreaming about his dumb smile and running my fingers through the hair on his belly all day. How his hand is so big it completely covers one of my breasts. And let’s not even mention his tongue.
“Firstly, what are your qualifications?”
I blink. “To be Jarra’s girlfriend?” The word sounds a little odd in my ears, but I don’t have a better one.
“Professional qualifications.”
I open my mouth, then close it again. I’m pretty sure Jarra didn’t tell Stuart about where we really met, so he can’t be asking me about my qualifications as a pro domme. “I don’t have any. I never finished high school and I didn’t do any other education.” I cut myself off before I start imagining what he must be thinking of me.
“OK. And can you tell me about your family? What family do you have in Heartstone?”
Not that I have anything to hide, but I can’t see why this matters. “Well, I have a sister, and I have two kids.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“No living parents?”
“My father is alive, but he doesn’t live in Heartstone. Mom died a few years ago.”
“What about your children’s father?”
“What about him?
“Well, do you have contact with him? Who is he? Does he know about your relationship with Mr. Tarvost?”
“We’re not in contact.”
“Hmm.”
What does that noise even mean?
“And what are your hobbies and interests? Are you a member of any clubs or political organizations?”
