So yeah, I’m absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
I wonder why she came? Probably forced to by her editor.
I feel like such a dumbass. I’ve been here freaking out like a fucking idiot over her, and she’s just indifferent to me.
“I’ve followed your music career,” she says out of the blue.
“You have?”
Now I am surprised. I wouldn’t have thought she cared to.
“Of course I have. Music is my job.”
Of course it is. So it’s not because it was me, but because of who I am.
“But that’s not just why,” she adds. “I wanted to see how you were doing. And you’ve just achieved so much. I was really proud watching you on TV and reading the articles about your music, and when you set up your own label – I was like, ‘Wow’ … and I’ve got bought all your albums, of course and they’re really brilliant.”
What?
I don’t get her. One minute she’s acting like she couldn’t give a shit about seeing me. The next she’s tripping over her words, trying to give me the impression she does.
Easiest way to find out – ask her. I’ve always been in the mind-set that you should say what you think. What’s the point in sitting on shit trying to figure it out for yourself when the answer to your question is sitting right in front of you.
“Why didn’t you get in touch with me, Tru?”
She stares at me for a long moment. I see what I think is confusion flicker over her face.
“Um… you’re not exactly easy to get in touch with – Mr Famous Rock Star.”
I hear the hard edge clear in her voice.
Yep, she’s pissed that I cut contact with her. That I can work with.
Indifferent, no. But angry, yes.
And angry makes her so very fucking hot right now. Even hotter if that’s possible.
“Yeah, that’s me – one of the most accessibly, inaccessible people on the planet,” I say staring at her.
I’m totally giving her edge, because right now all I want to do is piss her off further.
I want her to get her issue off her hot chest, so we can get to the good stuff. And also I can imagine an angry Tru, is a very hot Tru.
I keep my eyes on her, but she’s not saying anything. What the fuck! Why isn’t she kicking my ass right now?
The Tru I knew would have torn a strip off me.
Maybe she’s not the same girl she used to be.
She seemed the same, but maybe not.
I need a smoke. Fuck waiting.
I get them out of my pocket and perch one between my lips. “Do you smoke?” I ask.
“No.”
“Good.” Nothing worse than a woman who smokes if you ask me. “You mind if I do?” I don’t normally ask anyone ever. I wanna smoke, I smoke, but for her it just seems appropriate to ask.
“No,” she says firmly.
So she does mind.
But I need a smoke so I’m taking advantage of her inbuilt politeness and am having one anyway.
Lighting up, I take a long drag, pulling back hard, enjoying the momentary relief the nicotine gives me.
I drop my smokes and lighter onto the table, and then I suddenly hear music.
Is that Adele? Where the fuck is that coming from? It better not be Stuart listening to his crap music again.
Tru scrabbles for her bag.
It’s coming from her cell. I’m surprised she’s got Adele as her ringtone. Doesn’t fit with the Tru I remember. But then a lot isn’t fitting with her right now.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, pulling her cell out, silencing it. “It might be my boss.”
I watch her face as she quickly reads the text. A small smile forms on her lips.
Boyfriend, maybe? I fucking hope not. But look at her. No, she’ll have a boyfriend, there is no way she’ll be single looking like she does.
I bet he’s a stuck up asshole.
I’ll find out who he is from her, and get Stuart to do some digging on him later.
I need to know what my competition is.
Anyone else, I’d just be able to take without an ounce of work, but not her.
If there’s anything of the Tru I remember still in there, and I’m pretty sure there is, then I know for sure that I have my work cut out for me to get her to be mine.
“Adele?” I grin, referring to her cell. I like to tease her. I always did.
“I like her.” She sounds defensive.
“Oh me too.” I nod, holding back the smile I can feel rising. “She’s a nice girl. I just figured from what I remember of you, I’d have been hearing the Stones playing on your cell.”
“Yeah, well I’ve changed a lot since you knew me.”
I’ll take that as the dig it was meant as. Wow, she really is harbouring a grudge against me.
Which means she still cares. I’m so totally in the game.
I watch her with interest as she puts her cell away. Oh, she’s pulling her notebook out. She wants to start the interview.
We haven’t seen each other for twelve fucking years and she wants to interview me. It stings more than I expected.
“So, I should get started with the interview – I’m sure you’re really busy and I don’t want to keep you for longer than necessary.”
I’m really in the mood to play now.
“You’re not keeping me.” I take a long, drag of my cigarette. “And I’m not busy today. My schedule is clear.”
“Oh. You haven’t got any other interviews after mine?” She looks surprised.