Page 7 of Two Wrongs
‘I like Captain MorganandGentleman Jack.’
‘And vodka cranberry and G and T.’
‘In moderation,’ she says, folding her arms, all schoolmarm.
I scoff in response. ‘Moderation? Is that like your self-control around bearded men? Maybe moderation means something different to me, because it’s not, for sure, dropping your knickers every time some dude with a fuzzy face walks by.’
‘We all have our kryptonite, tequila tits.’
I narrow my gaze, though the venom is wasted as she’s already turned back to her list.
‘Next came sexy seaman.I wish,’ she adds with a ribald laugh.
‘Oh, Lord,’ I reply, rolling my eyes so far back into my head, I think I can see my braid. ‘Out with it—I know you can’t help yourself.’
‘You’re right,’ she says with a snigger. ‘I had sea captain written down first, but it didn’t have the same flavour. You know, seaman... semen? Geddit?’
I make a noise like I’m in pain.
‘You know what? I’m just gonna show you the rest because really, there’s no correlation between the length of the beard and how much I want to ride them. I like ‘em all.’ She twists the paper so I can see the list.
Beards: How I Love Them.
sexy stubble.
sexy pirate.
sexysea captainsemen.And, yep, spelled this way.
Tom Hanks as Robinson Crusoe.
sexy homeless person.Very PC, I don’t think.
sexy wizardDumbledore.
‘On planet sex kitten, they’re all sexy?’
‘Aye.’ She picks up her phone again as I lean across her to turn the computer on, seeing she’s already done so. ‘That’s about the strength of it.’
‘You’ve never met a beard you didn’t love?’
‘Yep,’ she replies with a sniff. ‘It’s just a shame about the men they’re attached to sometimes.’
‘So,’ I begin, attempting to steer the conversation away from hirsute happenings. ‘What’s up in the world of celebrity stalking today?’
‘Talia Griff has a new boyfriend.’
‘That’s news?’ I answer dryly, picking up a stack of freshly folded towels from the counter. She’s been busy; Nat, not Talia. Although, maybe they both have. Talia Griff seems to collect boyfriends and uses her many breakup experiences as musical inspiration, it seems. ‘Anything else going on in Hollywood?’ I don’t wait for an answer, carrying them across the room.
‘She’s seeing Dylan Duffy, and it’s pretty serious, apparently.’ I trip. Trip over nothing, it would seem. ‘You okay over there?’
‘Yeah. I—I must’ve slipped.’
‘So I see.’
I begin picking up the fallen towels, my face bright red.I can’t have heard right; Dylan and serious?‘Who’s seeing who, did you say?’
‘Dylan Duffy and pop sensation Talia Griff,’ Nat begins in a tabloid-esque voice, ‘are reportedly dating. According to close friends—why is it always close friends? It’s more likely to be hangers on, surely?—According to close friends,’ she repeats, ‘the pair met on the set of Griff’s new music hit, Probable,where the attraction was said to be combustible. Combustible?’ Nat snorts. ‘Who writes this shite?’ She shakes her head, disparagingly. ‘The twenty-two-year-old pop sensation recently split with her fiancé of six months when—’
