basket while I mop up the broken eggs in my other one.’
‘Sure. I get it.’ Keely nodded slowly. ‘You need time to grieve…and all. What have you got so far?’
Tahlia pulled out the scrap of paper she’d been doodling on this week, paused and folded it, tucking it tight under her thigh. It was already all wrong.
She ripped open a pack of M&Ms Keely had unpacked on to the table and tipped them into a bowl, snagging a couple of strays and popping them into her mouth. ‘I haven’t got much so far. Short, blond and…’ Not handsome. She’d had enough of handsome. ‘I don’t mind if he’s had a close encounter with a brick wall.’
Tahlia scooped a large handful of M&Ms into her lap and leant back, tucking her legs up on to the seat. ‘I think that sort of broken nose, scarred face, thinning hair sort of look is one that screams character,’ she blurted, shoving half of the load into her mouth.
Emma flopped on to the sofa, ripping open a bag of sweets, shooting Keely a look. ‘And his job?’
Tahlia chewed hard and swallowed. ‘His job—something where he gets down and dirty.’ She rushed on, trying to rid pastel shirts and silk ties from haunting her mind. ‘None of this intellectual shirty-suited sort of person. I want someone rugged, calloused and… rugged.’
Tahlia took a breath and shoved the rest of the M&Ms in her mouth, glancing to the bottle on the table, crunching them up. She needed something stronger than sweets…
Emma popped the cork on the wine, grabbing a slice of the cheesy pizza. ‘And this man’s hobbies would be—?’
‘Collecting bottle tops maybe, tattoos or beer bottles or sandals lost on the beach,’ Tahlia said in a rush. There. As totally opposite to that man as she could possibly get. ‘Well? What do you think?’
‘I think you’ll find him at the local pub, swilling down beer and chewing glass.’ Keely laughed. ‘Are you setting yourself up for disappointment or just afraid of dating?’
Tahlia jerked to her feet. She didn’t like where this was going. She wasn’t afraid of dating or men, not in general anyway. ‘No. I’m being practical.’
Emma poured a glass and slid it in front of Tahlia and picked up a pen. ‘Right. I think you ought to start fresh. What have you got—?’ She lurched forward and snatched the piece of paper from her chair. ‘This is more like it. What’s wrong with this tall, dark and handsome white-collar intellectual—? Oh.’
‘What oh?’ Keely leaned forward, holding her stomach. ‘What have I missed?’
Finishing off her slice of pizza, Emma opened a bag of popcorn, balancing it on her lap and waved the paper at her. ‘I think our Tahlia has already fallen for someone but is in denial.’
Tahlia slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms. ‘I’m denying nothing.’ And she wasn’t admitting anything either. ‘I have not fallen for anyone. I do not fall. I make lists and plans and stay aware of all contingencies at all times.’
Emma tossed a piece of popcorn at her. ‘Right. Sure. Liar.’
‘I’m not lying. There is no way I’m interested in Case Darrington as anything other than my arch nemesis that I need to crush like a bug.’
‘That doesn’t sound healthy.’ Keely poured cola into her glass.
‘You should have heard him. He expected me to be his assistant until he hired someone. Me!’ She touched her chest, feeling the rage anew. It felt far safer than those other feelings she didn’t want to have. ‘After he had the nerve to steal my promotion, he wants to make me his assistant.’
Emma tipped the popcorn into a bowl and pulled out some more packages. ‘Sweetie, take the job, play the secretary-cum-assistant role—it would be great for you to get to know him, wouldn’t it?’
‘You guys are crazy.’
‘Go on, email him now and tell him you’ll help him out with the job. It doesn’t have to be for long.’ Emma took another slice of pizza. ‘It will resolve, once and for all, whether it’s displaced animosity that you feel for your new boss, lust or something else entirely…’
Keely waved a chocolate-covered jam doughnut. ‘And thank him for the flowers.’
‘And you could tell him you’re thinking of him too,’ Emma lilted, casting her gaze to the incredible bunch of red roses on the hallstand.
She was, but she wasn’t thinking straight. She was considering her friends’ advice, but sense would suggest it was extremely flawed and terribly biased in favour of her associating with a cute-suit instead of focusing on her career.
Could these strong feelings be caused by her anger? She nodded. Definitely…it made far more sense than considering she’d let anyone touch her heart, let alone someone who’d taken something so precious from her, or someone who could make her feel so vulnerable.
That had to be wrong.
Tahlia took her glass. Maybe she could spend some more time with the boss, get beneath that tailored exterior of his, past the sweet soppy dog-at-home thing and reveal the true jerk underneath.
Tahlia knocked back her wine and settled back into her chair with a slice of pizza in one hand and an iced doughnut in the other. She’d give the matter some serious thought and maybe check out her horoscope in the morning to see if the stars could shed anything on the matter.
She bit into the sweet powdery softness of the doughnut. One thing she did know was that she was not going to rush into anything, least of all him.
Chapter Nine
They say all things good to know are difficult to learn.
Especially when it involves alcohol, romantic movies, too much sugar and way too helpful friends.
TAHLIA strode through the foyer, every step a challenge to the fragile head on her shoulders that still didn’t feel like her own.
They’d drunk far too much on Friday night, or at least she had, but she was sure they’d all be suffering the morning-afters for days.
Keely had polished off every last doughnut, citing the extra mouth she had to feed, and Emma’s chocolate consumption would’ve put a ten-year-old to shame.
Tahlia had spent most of the weekend tucked up in bed with the weekend papers and the Business Review, nursing her hangover, her promotion failure and an addled brain full of Darrington fantasies.
Why had she drunk so much?
She waved to George, tucking the newspaper tighter under her arm. She’d deliberately avoided reading her horoscope this morning because she didn’t want to know, and especially didn’t want to be tempted to check for what Sagittarians were up to today—as if she cared. Did it matter what Case’s was? It did not.
Sure, she’d emailed him under the influence some time in the wee hours of Friday night, taking up the offer to be his assistant, but it didn’t have to be the disaster
