“You never did set the record straight about everything, you know,” Grace said over her shoulder as they continued down the corridor. “It’d make a fabulous feature.” She swept her hands out, indicating a huge headline. “Former It Girl Katerina Jackson finally spills the dirt on her marriages, the seedy side of French football and those scandalous photos.”
“Never going to happen, Grace.”
“We could start at the beginning, make it a full show. We’d do background, talk about your childhood, your upbringing. How you beat up Marco when you were fourteen—”
“It was a shove, not a hit—”
“—and how you all ended up on detention like some modern-day Breakfast Club scenario—”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Grace laughed. “I’m not going to say anything, hon, unless you want me to. But I do find it fascinating that your closest friends are a soccer superstar, a billionaire merchant banker and the nephew of a rumored mobster. All hot alpha men. All completely different. And all newsworthy.”
Marco, Connor and Luke. Her best friends since high school, since that awkwardly hilarious lunchtime detention had played out like some eighties teenage movie and they’d bonded over their hatred of school and their shared tastes in movies, music and computer games.
“What were you all there for again?” Grace casually asked as they walked to the studio.
“You know full well what.”
“You’d decked Marco—”
“A shove, Grace. For showing off in front of his mates and getting all up in my face.”
“Why? What did he say?”
“Honestly, I can’t even remember.” Yeah, she did —a stupid teenage comment about her lack of “womanly attributes” that, to Marco’s credit, he’d apologized for later.
“Whatever. Luke had been caught defacing the toilets and… What was Connor’s crime?”
“Correcting the economics teacher then threatening to bankrupt him.”
“Wow, harsh.”
“That was Southbank Private for you.” She shrugged. “All the girls were too intimidated to talk to Luke and Connor. I wasn’t. And from there we clicked. It just so happens they’re guys.”
“And you’ve never thought about…?” Grace waggled her eyebrows. “You know.”
“What? No!”
“Not even with Marco?”
Kat threw her an exaggerated eye roll to cover up the warmth in her face. “No, Grace, I haven’t,” she replied as they walked onto the set. “And I have no intention of giving anyone an exclusive. I’m your research assistant now, that’s it.” Grace approached a raised yellow couch and coffee table surrounded by a cluster of cameras. The lights streamed down as the set director came over to go through the lineup. “The other stuff is old news. People don’t want to hear about it.”
“They do. But I’ll just keep trying,” Grace replied with a smile, taking the glass of water the runner offered.
“Of course you will.” Kat accepted her usual green tea from the set assistant as Grace sat on the sofa and began to rearrange the strategically placed props on the table.
“Soooo…have you heard from Marco?” Grace asked casually.
“Not yet, no,” Kat lied, fiddling with her phone. “He was commentating the Coupe de France, and that was only three days ago.”
“I heard he’s supposed to be back today.” She smoothed her dress down over her artfully crossed legs. “I’m arranging a surprise dinner for later in the week.”
“Really?” Kat paused, her insides suddenly tight, and she took a sip of tea to cover up the weird feeling. “Are you two back on again, then?”
Grace laughed. “I don’t think we’ve ever really been off. I’ve got plans.” She took another sip of water. “Let’s face it—my body clock’s been ticking steadily for years. And now I have an established show and some serious credibility in this industry. It’s time I started thinking about having a baby.”
Kat choked, tea dribbling down her chin. She swiped at it then stared at Grace. “With Marco?”
“Of course with Marco!” Grace frowned slightly, eyeing the guy adjusting the lighting. “Is that a problem? I know you and he are close…”
“Oh, no. I mean, yes… I mean…” Kat took a breath, trying to steady her clenching gut. “We’re close and share a lot, but we do have one rule—never butt into each other’s love life.”
“Really?” Grace looked intrigued. “So he’s never commented on James or Ezio, not even in passing?”
“No.”
“And you’ve never said anything to him about me?”
Kat gave her a look. “No. It’s not my business. You want to have babies, it’s fine with me.” She gave a smile, one she’d learned to adopt out of necessity. A smile designed for intrusive cameras, when they’d been camped outside her door, trailing her on the way to work, shopping, to the gym, interrupting her family and friends and becoming so invasive she’d had to get a court order to put a stop to it.
“You sure?” Grace asked curiously as she gathered up her notes. “I always thought there was some subtle sexual tension going on with you guys, but—”
“Me and Marco? No. No way!” she denied, a little too forcefully. “I mean, he’s a great-looking guy and he’s my best friend, but he’s…” She groped for a word. “A free spirit.”
“I would’ve said a tart,” Grace added with a smile. “And a world-class flirt. A good thing, too—he won’t butt into my life and make demands on how I should be raising my child.”
What could she say to that? Everything Grace said was true. Marco loved his life and lived it at breakneck speed. He had no room for a permanent partner, let alone a child.
Kat swallowed thickly, watching everyone fuss around Grace as the cameras got into position. For all her confusion, her crazy thoughts and outrageous scenarios she’d gone through these past few days, the choice was simple. He wouldn’t want a baby. She most certainly didn’t.
Kat adjusted her headset and sidestepped the studio camera as it wheeled toward her, watching Grace smiling into Camera One as she continued with her dialogue.
Grace could be snippy, snarky and demanding, but beneath the polished blond exterior she had a heart of gold. Kat sourced the hard-luck stories and Grace reported them, raising thousands for each charity they publicized. Grace was the public face, the ex-soapie star clawing her way back from alcohol and drugs to become the biggest-rating breakfast talk show in Queensland. Kat preferred it like that, preferred to work behind the scenes. It made a nice change, even though she still fielded a handful of interview requests every day.
No, she was content with her life. Work filled every waking moment, which meant no time for dating. Just as she’d told Connor during their regular “bon voyage, Marco” night out ten weeks ago in a Brisbane bar, she didn’t do attachments or relationships anymore.
“Too much work, too difficult to navigate and way too painful when they inevitably end,” she’d said, downing her drink and eyeing her friends across the table.
Marco