“I did,” Kayla said with a slow nod. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever get that chance again. I didn’t even get credited with the article. Someone else did.”
“That’s bollocks,” Donald says, slapping his knee lightly and trying to talk without spitting crumbs everywhere. Jessica has all the elegance in this relationship. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. I mean, I complained, but the editor doesn’t listen to me. Or anyone.”
“Have you ever thought about writing on the side then, maybe for free for a while?” he says, peering at her over his glasses. “Build up a portfolio and a reputation, hone your craft. Then start looking for a job that will actually pay you to write?”
I often wish I were Donald’s actual son, least not that he could have passed those brains down to me. Being born of crackhead blood is never to your advantage.
“Yes, Donald,” Jessica says. “That’s a great idea. Why not start with travel writing? You’re here, maybe Lachlan could show you some of the hidden spots of our country, the places no one writes about.” She gestures at me with her cup of tea. “Or another article on the organization. Even the gala next week. You could help each other out.”
Kayla and I exchange a glance. I hadn’t thought of that, and clearly neither had she.
“I wouldn’t know who to write for,” she says.
Jessica dismisses that idea with a wave. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. I know a lot of people. So does Donald. It wouldn’t be for pay, but like Donald said, just to get your foot in the door and build up your brand. At the same time, Lachlan and the dogs would benefit. What do you say? If I could make this happen, would you be interested?”
Kayla blinks for a moment, then straightens up. “Yes. Yes, of course! That would be great. When is the gala again?”
“On Friday,” Jessica says, and gives me a hard, discerning look. “If I know Lachlan, he’s completely dropped the ball on this one. Wouldn’t be the first time. One year he showed up in his rugby uniform because he came straight after practice.”
I clear my throat. The fucking gala is a fundraiser for the shelter. Jessica hosts it every year, and I just kind of show up, sign autographs, meet people, and put out some good PR for the organization. I usually bring Lionel to the event with me, and he wins people over far better than I can.
“It slipped my mind,” I tell them. “I’ve been…busy.”
Kayla smiles knowingly at that. “It’s okay. Amara told me already. I just wasn’t sure when it was.”
“Always at the start of the season. People are excited for rugby again, and usually I can get a few of my teammates to come show some support.” I pause, very aware of the way Donald and Jessica are staring at me. “I would love it if you would be my date, so long as you don’t mind sharing me with Lionel.”
“You know I don’t.”
“He’s a good one, isn’t he?” Jessica says warmly.
“Who, Lachlan or the dog?”
I let out a small laugh. “Oh, love, please don’t choose.”
My words bring out a look between Donald and Jessica which I do my best to ignore.
The doorbell rings and Jessica gets up. “That must be Brigs.”