Tigers & Devils by Sean Kennedy Read Free Book Online Page A

more Bog-off-to-the-Pub Fridays!”

    TIGERS AND DEVILS | 29

    “Did you add Red Bull to your coffee again?” I couldn’t help but be amused.
    “No!”
    “I haven’t been headhunted. You know me, I’m too lazy. I would rather be the big fish in the small pond rather than the tiny fish that drowns or is eaten by sharks in the vast deep.”
    Nyssa collected herself almost immediately, embarrassed at the display she had put on. “You promise?”
    I held up my hand and spread my fingers. “Scout’s honour.”
    “That’s the Vulcan salute.”
    I stared at my fingers. “Oh, right. I always get those two confused.”
    She leant in and glared at me. “Anyway, you’re not going anywhere without me, right?”
    I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I have it written in my contract.”
    As I made my way to my office, she yelled after me, “You doing that just makes me know something’s up!”
    I could barely see out of my window because of the sheeting rain outside, but I wasn’t going to let anything affect my mood. Besides, I always look better in layers, that’s why I hate it when summer comes around.
    As I was on my second cup of coffee, my mobile buzzed with an incoming message.
    My plane arrives midday. I have an afternoon training session, but I hope to be done by 4. See you at 6?
    I bit my lip. Where? I texted back.
    The reply was almost instantaneous. I’ll pick you up. How do you know where I live?
    I could almost see him shaking his head as he replied: White Pages online, idiot. Oh. Well, then. See you at 6.
    Looking forward to it.
    I didn’t text back. I had to get revenge somehow for the whole idiot thing.

    I ONLY managed to make Nyssa even more paranoid when I left the office at four-thirty and told her I was calling it a day and she could as well.
    “You’re going to an interview, aren’t you?” she called after me as I ran out the door. She was kind of right. But I left her hanging in anticipation.

    30 | SEAN KENNEDY

    Even leaving early was cutting it fine. I would probably only have forty-five minutes before Declan arrived, if he was punctual. I rushed through my front door, made sure to feed the cat, and jumped quickly into the shower. I only managed to choose my boxer shorts and wriggle into them before I was stumped. Crap, Fran was right. I should have been thinking about what clothes to wear long before this.
    I stood before my mirror and eyed myself critically. Daniel Craig emerging from the ocean in Casino Royale , I wasn’t. I was too pale, I had skinny arms but a slightly flabby and hairy tummy. My legs were even paler than my chest. I sat down (although fell down might be more honest) upon the end of my bed, wondering if I was going to have a panic attack. Who the hell was I kidding? What made me think I could go out with somebody like Declan Tyler, a physical Adonis who was one of the favourites in the annual shirtless AFL stud farm calendars?
    Oh crap, I was going to coffee with someone who was in a stud calendar. I clutched my head with both hands.
    If it ever got to the point that we would take our clothes off in front of one another, I didn’t know if I could be naked in front of someone like him. I mean, with what he was used to seeing in the locker room at least—
    My self-pity party was interrupted by my front doorbell being pushed impatiently. I shot to my feet, the panic attack in no way abated. I threw on a pair of trakkies and my faded Tori Amos T-shirt that read with all irony “I don’t mind a dirty girl” (my uniform for at-home slouching) and ran into the lounge room.
    This wasn’t punctuality; this was early with extreme prejudice. I threw open the door, only to find Roger and Fran standing on the stoop.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked, not meaning to be rude but sounding so anyway.
    “You are not going out dressed like that!” Fran said, her face rigid with complete horror.
    Roger sized me up. “He rang up and cancelled, didn’t he?”
    “No,