Page 7 of Just Watch Me
“Huh. How would you say you’re doing with that?”
“It’s a goal,” he said, “not an achievement.”
“Ha. So what was the story back there, now that we know you’re not always such a good citizen? Were you behaving inappropriately?”Definitelysparkly. Teasing, anyway. He was a sucker for women who teased, probably because it didn’t happen much. Apparently he was scary.
He grimaced. “No. That’s my sister. Thought I wasn’t making an effort. Course I’m not making an effort. I didn’t even want to come!”
“Me either. Dragged along. Friend in my case, not sister.” She held up her stack of cards. “Every one a no, so relax, you’re off the hook. I’ve already given up. Well, I’d probably given up some time back, to be honest.”
“Hard to believe,” he said. “I don’t see a reason for that.”
“No?” She put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. She was wearing the kind of blouse that buttoned not tremendously far up, so the leaning was distracting. “I have three kids and one cat. I teach school. I am undatable.”
He laughed. “I have three kids myself. Widower. No cats, but I recently had some rats. Don’t ask. I’m only datable because?—”
“Because of your job,” she said, “Henry. Seriously? Henry?” Now she was the one laughing, so he had to join her, didn’t he? It was that upturned mouth. “You’retoodatable, is what you are. No, thank you. But who would’ve thought that I’d meet somebody else my age whose spouse got hit by a bus or whatever? Is this a bonding moment?”
His smile died fast. “Yeh,” he said, “no. Not really.”
The gong went. She said, “What? Did that sound callous?”
“Got to go.” He stood up. “Match on Saturday.”
“But we’ve still got two dates to go. Also, I should probably say?—”
“Got to go,” he said again. “See you.”
Could this evening get any worse? He’d let his guard down once—once—and she’d come up with that?
He was so hot, he didn’t even realize until he was halfway to Jade’s place that she’d said she had three kids. Three kids plus three kids was …
Well, yeh. Ridiculous.
3
A YEAR ONE FAILURE
Jade’s article appeared in theHeraldthe following Wednesday. He didn’t know that because she told him. He knew because he heard about it. All day long. Even the hardest training day of the week, full of high-intensity runs and match simulations, couldn’t quell the merriment.
Who’d Be a Hooker?the headline read. The subhead was even worse.My All Black Brother Fails the Speed-Dating Test.
Jade was sparkly, all right. She sparkled all over the thing.
Think you could outpull an All Black?it began.If you can’t imagine it, you haven’t met my eldest brother, Blues hooker and skipper Zane Mahuta. If you aspire to greater things than poor Zane, at least off the pitch, here’s a Dos and Don’ts list for you lads as you venture out into the wonderful world of Speed Dating.
DON’T:
Dress in pale-blue Mum jeans (in fairness, possibly the only kind that fit a hooker’s thighs), and trainers. Andremember: showing ankles is out! Dig out those crew socks your granny gave you for Christmas.
Scowl like you’re facing South Africa in the haka. This is not an attractive look.
