CHAPTER FOUR

KELLYISM:

LOVE AND KISSES SHOULD NEVER BE USED

IN THE SAME SENTENCE,

UNLESS IT’S THIS ONE!

KELLY’S mobile phone buzzed at her hip. The vibration jolted her out of Simon’s arms as if she had been struck with a hot poker.

She pulled away, relieved beyond thought that nobody had walked in on them. That was all she needed: to be caught necking in the tearoom. How could she, the mentor of how to survive without a man, explain that to her new colleagues?

She reached for the phone and checked the text message, blissfully ignoring Simon who was standing in front of her, his hands hanging clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling with the same power and pace as her own.

‘My real interview is on the phone,’ Kelly said. She looked to him with pleading eyes. ‘So stay, go, do whatever you please, just leave me alone.’

‘I’ll go. For now.’

For ever. Please, for my sanity’s sake, go for ever this time.

He left and she followed. And as he reached the doorway to Reception, he sent her one last glance. One last hot, meaningful, and totally knee-weakening glance. It was all she could do to send him a professional nod and walk calmly back towards her desk. She could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning holes into her back.

She’d kissed him. What on earth was she thinking kissing him? Sure, he had started it but that was an excuse better suited to the school playground. And she had certainly joined in without hesitation. Argh! She had been trying to send him away, for good, and then she had gone and kissed him! Well done, Kelly. Now he’ll really take your demands to get lost seriously.

She reached her desk and sat down with a punishing thud. A pretty blonde head popped around from the desk across from hers.

‘Hiya.’

‘Hello.’

‘I’m Lena.’ The cute girl extended a plump hand. ‘I’m the restaurant critic. You’re Kelly Rockford, right?’

‘I am.’ Kelly’s breathing had thankfully slowed to a more regular pace. She shook the proffered hand.

‘Glad to have you on board,’ Lena said. ‘Single and Loving It! is a crack-up. My girlfriends and I are totally addicted. One friend broke up with her boyfriend last week and we actually did your ritual night, right down to burning her ex’s photo and dancing around the ashes. Felt so silly at first but my friend is like I have never seen her. She is on top of the world. You saved her, and us from having to put up with the usual blubbering mess we would have had to contend with. You’re a genius.’

Kelly smiled, picturing the night a week after Simon had left when she had performed that ritual herself. Naked on the beach at midnight. Burning every photograph, every piece of physical evidence that he had been a part of her life. Doing everything she could to release her downtrodden spirit and move on. Though she was only now realising the little good it had done in releasing her from his influence.

‘Oh, no. Don’t go thinking I am a genius. Just a medium through which women can be heard.’

‘Believe me. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next. Anyway, grab me if you have any questions about the place.

‘Thanks, Lena, shall do.’

Lena grinned at her as if she were a movie star and swung back inside her own cubicle.

Kelly took a deep breath and picked up her phone. ‘Judy, could you patch my interviewee through for me? Thanks.’

Kelly sat at Maya’s desk that afternoon as the elder woman glanced over her outline. Her face spread into a wide grin.

‘This is priceless. Is she for real?’

Kelly nodded.

‘Wherever do you find these women?’ Before Kelly could answer Maya waved her quiet. ‘Sorry, sorry, I forgot. “A woman should never reveal her sources, her secrets, nor her deepest desires.” The way that young Simon of St Kilda came out with that line made me want to have secrets just so he could come looking for them!’

‘Maya!’ Kelly could not control her blush at Maya’s ravenous expression.

‘He’s a dish. No doubt about it.’ After a brief sigh Maya continued as though there had been no pit stop in the conversation. ‘So this Gillian woman crashes weddings on a regular basis.’

‘Yep. Every weekend. Sometimes twice a week.’

‘Whatever for?’

‘It seems she just loves weddings. Loves the unadulterated joy experienced on such occasions that you find nowhere else.’

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