The Problem With Heartache by Lauren K. McKellar

Jay around, you perv.” I picked up a cushion and threw it at her, catching her smack on the arm. She pushed it aside and her face scrunched up till it got really cute and angry looking, and it was hard to stifle a laugh.
    “I don’t see any—”
    “RAWR!” Jay jumped out from behind the other couch and Kate jumped about a foot in the air, dropping her clipboard and grasping her chest.
    “Shit!”
    Jay’s eyes widened. “Kate said a bad word.”
    “Now you’ve done it.” I laughed, watching as Kate alternated between looking horrified and searching for words to try and rectify the situation.
    “Jay, I didn’t mean it.” Kate finally found her voice, squatting down to his eye level. “But sometimes, when a grown-up gets very, very scared, they’re allowed to have one bad word.”
    “One.” Jay frowned.
    “Just one.” Kate agreed.
    “Then how come Lee says bad words when him and Mommy—”
    “That’s enough, Jay.” I jumped off my seat and jogged the three steps over to them. For a small kid, he sure seemed smart. “Maybe you should go find your new shoes. We’re gonna head out soon.”
    Jay shrugged and skipped down the hallway to the bedroom where I knew Lottie had laid out all his belongings. Jay liked to choose his own clothes. With a fashion-lover for a mother, it was bound to happen.
    “You are right. We are going soon, and I wanted to check you’re um …” Kate’s gaze swept my body again. I puffed out my chest, just a little. “Ready.”
    “Do you think I look ready?” I smirked.
    “No. Not really.” She shook her head, as if snapping from a trance. “Not at all. You should wear some clothes.”
    I gave a light laugh and picked up my shirt from where I’d thrown it on the couch, shrugging it over my shoulders and pulling it down my chest. “Better?”
    “Much.” She pursed her lips. “Now, do you need me to run over your list of commitments for today?”
    I agreed, and she started running through the list of media activities that Tony and the team at Spinner had planned out. While she talked, I stared at her. The way her mouth moved, forming the words. The way her voice was calm, in control, even though I knew I’d flustered the hell out of her only moments before. There was something about her I liked—something about her that just seemed so … real.
    “Do you like working for me? For us, I mean?” I interrupted.
    Kate snapped her jaw closed and looked at the clipboard in front of her. “Yes.”
    “Just yes? That’s it?”
    “Yes, I like working here. I like organising things, and making sure people are where they’re supposed to be when they say they will. I like music, and I like learning more about this whole process while being on the road with you.” Kate stammered, and I smiled. Learning. It had been a long time since I’d met a girl who liked to learn. Not since …
    “The only thing I don’t like are lead singers who think it’s funny to take their shirts off every time they’re near me.” Kate gave me a pointed look.
    “Even if they’re really good-looking?” I tried.
    “I wouldn’t know what that’s like,” she replied. Score one to Kate.
    She ran through the rest of the schedule and I made my mind focus on the words coming out of her mouth. There was something about her that was different to all the other women I had around me. They were ‘yes’ people. Kate was … it had taken her a few weeks of being on the road, but now a little hint of fire was shining through. A wicked sense of humour. A strong sense of fun.
    Kate was going to be a problem.
    A dangerous one.

 

     
    O NE OF the good things about my new job was the down time. Sure, I had to work weird hours, and check on things at odd times of the day and night, but I did often have ample time free in the middle of the day. And that meant shopping. Or at the very least, coffee drinking.
    I’d struggled to find good coffee in the States so far, and was currently returning