‘Yes, exactly! Major story, hard-hitting stuff.’ I was babbling now, words falling out all over the place.
Jacob rolled his eyes at me. Too far? ‘Hard-hitting’ was Derek’s new buzzword. Last week it had been synergy. God knows what delight awaited us next week.
‘Oh yes, what is this story, then?’ he probed, jabbing a straw through a carton of chocolate milk and taking a loud slurp.
‘Oh, it’s, umm—’
I wracked my brains, trying to think of something, anything .?.?.
‘It’s, err—’
‘The community centre,’ Jacob finished for me.
Derek frowned. ‘I thought you already did a piece on that last week?’
‘Mhmm, I did.’ I nodded slowly, shooting Jacob a warning look over the table. The last thing I needed right now was to spend more time in the presence of Luca Patel.
‘It was the most popular article on the website last week,’ Derek mused quietly to himself, stroking his non-existent jawline with his finger and thumb in a way that made my stomach heave with nausea. ‘And they’ve had their funding cut, haven’t they? Must be in serious danger of closing?’ His eyes shone with the delight of a child being given a 99 on a hotsummer’s day, no thought or care to the repercussions if the community centre did actually close. I bit my tongue, swallowing the words that would 100% get me fired.
‘No, you’re right, Derek, as always. Total waste of time,’ I backtracked, trying to pander to his already oversized ego. Anything to avoid having to be in the same postcode as Luca Patel.
‘OK, you’ve twisted my arm,’ Derek conceded, flat-out ignoring what I’d just said. My jaw clenched some more. ‘Have an outline on my desk by the end of the day,’ he barked, squeezing himself into the chair next to me and shovelling a forkful of lasagne into his mouth. A globule of tomatoey mince dropped down his shirt, another landing on my notebook. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.
‘So, are you going to knock any time soon or did we just come to admire the cornicing?’
Joe was leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, one ankle slung over the other as he stared amusedly at me. My watch informed me I’d been stood in front of Luca’s front door for twelve agonising minutes now. The very fact that somewhere along the way I’d started referring to it asLuca’sfront door only fuelled my rage further.
‘I mean it is technically his front door now, seeing as he lives here.’
I scowled at him, hating it when he read my mind. ‘Whose side are you on?’
Joe chuckled. He was clearly enjoying this.
‘Never thought I’d see the day that Jenny Thompson was afraid of a man.’
‘Please. I amnotafraid of Luca Patel,’ I scoffed, my scowl deepening.
‘Whatever you say, baby.’ A smile played on his lips, hisdimples cutting two endearing divots into his cheeks. My eyes narrowed. I knew what he was doing. He was goading me.
‘Buk buk buk buk ba-gawk!’ Joe squawked, hands buried in his armpits as he flapped both elbows like an overgrown chicken.
‘OK, OK,’ I huffed, taking a step towards the front door. But the door swung inwards before I even had a chance to knock. A floppy-haired teenage boy stood blinking back at me in the doorway.
‘Really, this guy? What are you so afraid of? That he’s going to tell everyone not to sit next to you at school?’ Joe teased, clocking the kid’s Marvel t-shirt and neon Air Jordans.
‘That’s not him,’ I hissed over my left shoulder, although apparently not subtly enough, as I watched the boy’s expression shift from one of confusion to evident concern at the strange lady talking to herself.
‘Harry, you forgot your sheet music again. How are you going to practise if you don’t have your – you’ve got to be kidding me.’ Luca appeared behind the boy, his ink-stained fingers clutching several sheets of paper, and his face doing some weird scrunched-up thing that made it look like he was sucking a lemon.
‘I’ve come to talk to you,’ I said. Obviously.
Luca sighed, already sounding exasperated. ‘Well, it’s a relief to hear you’re not here to break in –again.’
Joe sucked his breath in between his teeth. ‘Ooh, burn, Jenny.’
I took a deep breath, wishing for once that Joe was not here right now. A sentiment that poor Harry clearly shared as he grabbed the sheet music from Luca’s hand, shoved it carelessly into his backpack and made a speedy exit down the staircase.
‘I didn’t know you taught private lessons too.’ I didn’t bother to hide the tone of surprise from my voice.
