"She slid down the wall to the floor, hugging herself, as though she might be able to stop her heart from breaking. But she couldn't. And she realised then that she had never felt this before."

- Wife for Hire, Dianne Blacklock.

It was seven thirty on the dot, the sun had begun to set unusually early. I threw a twenty at the driver and exited the taxi, watching it drive off in a hurry to leave me standing at the base of the building. KWAN read the sign, which was large, bulky and not a good representation for a supposedly four star restaurant.

"Damn glass." I blinked at the windows, the glass revealed a muddled reflection, but regardless I scanned myself in the makeshift mirror. My yellow dress, softened with a black belt highlighted my thick waterfall of hair which was held together by a gold clip. I had heard from an incredibly reliable source that the restaurant was considered the hottest restaurant in Melbourne this week. Whenever I walked into work to talk with my editor or conduct an interview, I visited my good friends to catch up on the hot topics. So when I was invited to attend an engagement dinner at KWAN, I turned to my pal Jeanette.

“Superb,” she told me, “absolutely superb.” The highly acclaimed food critic blabbered on. “It is classic Chinese at its best. If you live in the city and have not been to this place, you don’t belong here.” As usual she followed that claim with not you of course, sweetie. Working for one of Melbourne’s most popular magazines had its perks. I had sat across members of parliament, discussed the contributions of millionaires and influential members of society. All of my work was displayed on two pages in the Melbourne Residential. I found myself staring at the window with an awkward and slightly confused expression.

"Fuck." Oh gosh, what have I done? My lips trembled as I stared in horror, I look like a bee. Yellow and black wasn’t the best choice. I’m the Queen Bee, complete with pretty hair and a sparkly purse. I shook my head, gathered myself and walked into KWAN. Mild music touched my ears, and the heavy scent of jasmine filled my nose. I approached the hostess, a small and petite woman with too much mascara.

“Hello, do you have a booking?” She blinked.

“I’m here for Bradley Scott and Marissa Tutt.” I peered at the large sheet with bookings. Behind her a man coughed, poking his head around the corner.

“Stacey!” He called. Bradley held out his arms, stepping through the growing crowd. “She’s with me.”

“Of course sir,” the hostess eyed.

“It’s good to see you Braddles.” I threw myself at him.

“You too Stacey, it’s so great that you came.” He held my waist, steering me around a concrete divider. A long and elegant table came into view, covered in pretty white flowers and tiny candles. It was almost full, with four or five seats left empty.

“I can’t believe it’s your engagement party.” I stopped, placing my hand on his cheek with a smile. He still had the curly chocolate hair and cute grin from university. I stared into his hazy blue eyes, breaking the contact a second later.

“I know right,” Bradley sighed. His bride-to-be approached us with a wary expression.

“Stacey, it’s so nice to see you.” Marissa grinned coldly. I never liked the black haired, green eyed witch, she always thinks I'm up to something.

“Take a seat there, I saved you the best spot.” He winked. I plonked myself next to him, dropping my purse onto the table. Waitresses in identical grey uniforms circulated the table, offering guests flutes of champagne. I politely refused, pouring myself a glass of water.

“Who are we waiting on?” I asked. The seat next to me remained empty.

“Marissa’s friend from university. The food will be arriving soon.” He frowned. I’m lucky I arrived early.

“He’ll be here,” she assured. Twenty minutes later I was already tired and famished, attempting to fill up on water and spring rolls which were surprisingly delectable. Sneakily, I licked my fingers but despite my efforts, Marissa caught me and grimaced.

“Christ, I’m not waiting for this idiot.” Bradley groaned. He pushed his fingers through messy curls, stress gathering in his voice.

“If he’s a no show just continue.” I patted his hand. Behind us, a loud voice protested. I couldn’t understand them, their words were muddled. I saw the voice belonged to a tall man in a trench coat, who flung his arms wildly in the air while the hostess tried to calm him.

“There he is!” Marissa jumped up, running in too high heels. I stared behind the arrogant creature, searching for the man who was possibly her friend. She linked arms with an extremely tall man who was reasonably built. My face drooped as I saw that her tall man wore a trench coat, and had been incredibly rude to the staff seconds before.

“Sorry about all the fuss people!” He shouted down the other end. “Bradley my man, sorry I’m late.”

“No problem at all,” Bradley clearly didn’t accept his apology. I snuck a glance at the rude stranger who had handsome features, the kind that would melt a girl’s heart. His eyes were a dark, dark blue framed by the blackest lashes.

"What a crowd," he observed. His lips were thin like his nose, which was slightly crooked. Although he appeared gorgeous, especially with that luscious brown hair, he was still rude.

“Take a seat there,” Marissa pointed next to me. I turned away, pressing my glass to my lips. I noticed red lipstick marks as I placed it back on the table. Beside me, the man chatted loudly to the other guests.

“Damn Asians, they never listen.” He joked. My opinion on this gentleman had been made, he was an arrogant pig and I didn’t even know his name. The stranger continued to crack jokes when he paused, leaning around to examine me. “I didn’t know there was a bee at the table.”

“Ha,” Bradley half laughed, “Hal this is Stacey.”

“Hal Bishop,” the guy stuck his hand in my face. I took it, shaking it lightly.

“Stacey Harris.” I shrugged, shying away from him.

“What do you do Stacey?” He was quick to reply.

“I’m a writer.” I straightened my back. Hal paused, his lips then turning up into a smile.

“And I thought I was dull.” Laughter poured out from his big mouth. I rolled my eyes, filling my glass.

“Let me guess,” I swung my head around, “you’re a lawyer.”

“I don’t hate myself that much,” he grinned, “no offence Bradley.”

“None taken,” Hal said, resting his chin on his palm.

“Okay, you’re a bank manager.” I swirled my water around. Hal put his hands up, a happy sigh escaping his lips.

“It took you that long?”

“Oh my,” I whispered, turning away again.

“Stacey, you can’t be a writer.” Hal announced, taking a glass of champagne. Bradley looked over and leaned closer.

“And why not?” Braddles was curious.

“She’s too pretty.” A long thumb jerked in my direction. We hadn’t noticed the trays of food being placed along the middle of the table. “You’re drinking water?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” My eyes rolled back.

“No, but this is a party!”

“It’s a work day,” even though it’s Saturday, a writer with an idea is always working.

“Baby, every day is a work day.” Hal beckoned a waitress. “It’s to take away the pain.” He winked, holding out a glass with long and oddly muscular fingers. I frowned at the drink, then at him. His smile would be the best part about him if he were silent.

“Alright, but this is it.” My ring clinked against the flute. Liquid gold seeped into my mouth, fresh and deliciously sweet.

“Of course,” Hal winked, touching his glass to mine.

“Wait, wait. I’ve got one.”

“You do?” He grinned. “What story do you have to tell about this man?” Hal pointed a wobbly finger at Bradley. I took a breath, my hand patting my chest.

“One time in uni, there was a Halloween get-together.” I began with a smile. “So we went. I was Snow White, and what were you?”

“Batman,” Bradley sighed, I could see the pain in his expression. Hal was already laughing.

“Right, shut up!” I coughed, smacking Hal’s arm. "Anyway it was an outdoor party. We strolled in looking cool and there was this one girl that Bradley was after.”

“Oo,” Hal winked.

“He had heard she was going as Catwoman, and despite there already being like five Batman guys he stayed.” I remembered that moment like it was ten minutes ago. “Unfortunately it started raining.”

“Aw no!”

“Shut up! Bradley stayed very calm. He walked up to this soaking Catwoman and said,” I paused and watched his face. He turned away in shame, “and I quote, 'you're a wet pussy'.” I waited for a reaction. Hal’s plain expression twisted into a grin.

“Oh shit!” His fist slammed onto the table. I put my hand on his shoulder, laughing almost as loud as him.

“Is that true?” Marissa eyed with an unimpressed smile.

“It was a long time ago,” he said.

“Bradley what were you thinking?” Hal choked.

“Pussy,” I murmured, breaking into a fit of chuckles. I waved my hand at a waitress, taking my forth glass of champagne. I think.

“Oh goodness,” he chortled.

“Dessert is over, we can leave.” Marissa poked Bradley.

“Wait, wait.” I stood uneasily, the champagne swirling around in my glass. Everyone on the table looked up curiously. “There haven’t been any toasts.”

“Oh fuck,” she whispered.

“I’m not a part of the bridal party like you ladies,” I gestured to the girls beside Marissa, “but I still have something to say.”

“Woo!” Hal banged on his glass.

“I remember a cute guy with dimples and the biggest brain at uni,” I touched his shoulder, “who despite his intelligence couldn’t think of a decent pick up line.” Next to me, Hal had lost his mind. “But who is the sweetest, loveliest guy in my life. You’re not going to find better Marissa, so treat him well.” I threatened friendlily. “A toast to the groom! I’m so proud of you Bradley.” Hands clapped for my friend. I smiled, a little tear gathering. He stood, giving me the biggest hug as I grinned into his shoulder.

“And now it’s the bride’s best friend.” Hal announced, stretching his back. We sat down to watch him. “Like this lovely lady, I’m also not a part of this shindig.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t met this charming woman in university. We had hard study sessions, never left the library, and we’re still best pals. To you Marissa, you’ll have a wonderful life with Bradley.” He held his glass towards them. She smiled and laughed happily. “And a toast to this woman right here,”

“What?” I blinked. Hal looked down at me with a cheeky expression.

“She proves that not all writers are boring.” He joked. “You’re a good time Stacey, a really good time.” My face went red, I tried to hide it with my glass. Hal returned to his seat, fiddling with his pocket. “Pass us that napkin, would you?” He pointed to a white square.

“Sure,” I threw it to him.

“I ran out of business cards so here’s my number.” Hal scribbled in black a set of numbers with his name at the top. “Can I have yours?”

“I’ll call you,” I assured, snatching it as he finished.

“You’d better, I’ll be waiting.” He was full of winks tonight.

“People are starting to leave, can we go?” Marissa badgered her man.

“Alright,” they stood, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. We watched them wave as people gathered at the door. I took my purse, slipping the napkin into the pocket.

“We are so hammered.” Hal coughed.

“Thank fuck I don’t drive,” my license is always on hand though.

“Want to share a taxi?” He swung his trench coat around his shoulders.

“Oh no, I know what that means.” We stumbled, relying on each other to get to the door.

“Look at them,” Bradley sighed behind us, “Stacey I’ll take you home.”

“But I’m fine!” I called, tripping over my shoes.

“You’re not. Marissa, you take Hal.” We walked out onto the foot path. Bradley took my arm while she snatched Hal.

“I’ll meet you at home.” She kissed her fiancé.

“Great party Marissa!” I complimented, waving like a psycho.

“Bye Bradley, and make sure you call!” Hal yelled to me. I shook my head and laughed. He was an alright drunk.

“I haven’t seen you hammered in years,” Bradley hailed a taxi.

“Because it’s the first time I have in centuries!” I howled. He pushed me in, sighing as I giggled on the seat.

“What am I going to do with you, Stacey?”

“Nothing, you’re going to marry that bitch and that’s that.” I sunk into the door, my eyes drooped and Bradley’s concerned face faded into the darkness.

I blinked, watching innocent pedestrians cross the street. Cars travelled silently down the narrow roads while the taxi cabs made all the noise. I reached over, carefully lifting my tea. I was curled up on the window seat with a knitted blanket, letting the city clear my mind.

"Argh," it was still too hot. I folded my arms, smiling as a woman and her partner tickled their child while waiting for the walk sign to click. I was mesmerised by all the people, and wondered what thoughts were brought on by a day like this. A loud knock knock frightened me. I slid out under my blanket and went to the door.

"Who is it?" I asked, my hand touching the knob. Strangely they didn't answer. I edged it open slowly, sighing when I saw him.

"Hey Stace," Bradley grinned.

"Why didn't you answer?" I frowned.

"I wanted to surprise you." He stepped around, shrugging out of his coat. I locked the door behind us, leaning against the wooden frame. "Why don't you just get a peep hole?"

"I don't like them, they're creepy." I shivered. "Sorry, it's an off day." I apologized for my lazy attire.

"No you're fine," Bradley assured, "relaxed suits you."

"My life is relaxed," I groaned, following him into the living room.

"I haven't been here in ages," he glared around, "new furniture?"

"Yeah, I redesigned the whole place." I nodded. "It needed a facelift."

"It works really well. It feels right for a writer." Bradley settled into the soft blue armchair. My heart leapt, slamming into my ribcage when he smiled.

"Thanks. Not to be rude, but why are you here?" I sat on the edge of a matching chair.

"I had the morning off, Marissa wasn't free so I thought I'd come over." Ugh, Marissa.

"So I'm the last resort?" I eyed.

"Of course not," he was shocked, "I just haven't visited you in so long. I thought it'd be nice." Yeah, it was nice to spoon-feed me pain.

"Do you want a drink?" I moved awkwardly away from the subject.

"Uh, water please." Bradley trailed after me into the kitchen. I opened one cupboard, reaching for one of the fancy glasses I kept for company. My fingertips barely touched one when an arm appeared beside me. He pulled two cups down, setting them to the side. I looked up with nervous eyes as Bradley stared down, his breath becoming rough. I placed my hands on the counter, beginning to move away but I gasped when he caught my hand, his fingers sinking into my skin. I froze, not knowing what move to make next. I felt the heat radiating off him. My shoulder touched his chest, and I could feel his heart beat unsteadily while his lips attacked mine. Melting at the sensation, I mustered the strength to put a hand behind his neck before he pulled away. Bradley swallowed, his breath returning to normal. I had a feeling this would be the end of the visit.

"I should go. I have to be back soon." He choked, straightening his tie.

"Yeah," I nodded. He walked briskly away, snatching his coat from the armchair. I stared emptily as he unlocked the door. Bradley paused halfway and turned to me.

"You should call Hal. He's been waiting to hear from you." He murmured, slamming the door behind him. I listened for his footsteps, they faded down the hallway. The life had been taken out of my legs. I crumpled to the floor in a heap, my chest hurting more than my body. I reached for the phone on my desk and dialled for support with shaky hands.

The long hand of my ancient clock ticked past the five. It was almost ten thirty, an hour since Bradley had left. I cried hysterically on the phone, and now waited for the kind soul who had listened. My ear was pressed to the door. I jumped up when a set of feet approached.

"I'm sorry I took so long," my sister sighed, "we couldn't find a close enough car park."

"We?" I sniffed.

"I brought chocolate and the cavalry." Lindsey nodded to the side. I peeked around the door.

"Hey guys!" I put on my best smile for her daughters. Her four year old grinned and jumped around while the thirteen-going-on-thirty teen waved, eyes glued to her phone. I let them in, roughly locking the door.

"Elisa, play with your sister." She instructed. "I'm so sorry sweetie, come here." I fell into her open arms. "That guy is horrible, and she's a skank." A little gasp came from behind her.

"Mummy said a bad word!" Evelyn proclaimed.

"Let it go Evie." Elisa sighed. I laughed at the girl, born to a seventeen year old with a father who left after her birth. I was fourteen when Lindsey fell pregnant. I had become the mature and responsible sister once our mother left because she couldn't bare the shame of her daughter being knocked up before marriage. The fact that the guy had been as she had said a toad faced mutt, put the nail in the coffin. Ourfather however, stayed by her side even during the birth. Geoff Harris had the purest soul and accepted his daughter's actions. When little Elisa came into this world, she was meant to be there. And all of a sudden when she found out that Lindsey's little bundle was the cutest thing in the neighbourhood, who was at the door? Our estranged mother Cara.

"How's Dad?" I sniffled.

"Fine, he wished he'd see you more but we're not talking about him." Lindsey steered me into the living room. I sat down, Lindsey taking the chair beside me. "What happened? You were a maniac on the phone."

"Sorry. He just showed up this morning." I spotted my tea from earlier. It'd be freezing by now.

"What did he say?" Lindsey patted my shoulder.

"That he'd thought he'd visit. He had spare time."

"But why all of a sudden? Before he rang you, you hadn't seen him in like a year right?"

"More or less," I nodded, "anyway he came in, I went to get him water and then it just," my heart cracked. I stifled the tears, covering my face with my hands.

"I thought you had gotten over this Stacey."

"Me too," I bit my hand, holding it in. Fingertips touched my cheek. I looked directly into Evie's concerned face.

"Aunt Stacey?" She mumbled.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Do you have those biscuits with the spots?" Enormous brown eyes stared at me. I smiled and chuckled, hugging my little niece.

"Of course I do, come on." I took her hand, leading her to the kitchen.

"Did he say anything else?" Lindsey called after us. I opened a new packet of hundreds and thousands cookies and shook them into a bowl.

"Yeah but I haven't thought much of it." Evie munched as I carried her back. Elisa stole a cookie when I put her on the floor.

"What was it?" Lindsey crossed her legs, leaning her chin on her palm.

"That I should call a guy from the party," I pulled my legs up to cradle them, "I got a bit hammered with him and he gave me his number."

"Oo, what's his name?"

"Hal," I pushed my fingers through my mane.

"Hal," Lindsey paused, "really?"

"I almost reacted the same way," I giggled.

"Is he a short, balding man?"

"No he's gorgeous." I pictured the tall and incredibly handsome hunk. He had such a childish look on him, but everything else was all man. It's such a shame that he's a pig. "And with a full head of hair mind you."

"Okay that's a start, what else?" She pressed.

"Good jawline, thin nose and lips."

"I like so far," my sister got excited.

"His hair was parted in a way that you just want to, ugh, touch it." I pulled a foggy but decent picture from my mind. "And blue eyes, big beautiful blue eyes."

"Call him!" Lindsey slapped my arm. "You should absolutely call him!"

"Ew, no." I grimaced.

"What?" Her heart sank.

"His personality was not gorgeous." I flicked my wrist.

"Did he come off as clingy?"

"Nope,"

"Stingy?"

"He's a pig." I answered. "Hal Bishop is a totally ignorant pig. He called me dull."

"That's it?"

"No that's not it," I raised my voice slightly.

"What'd he do?"

"He was harassing the staff at the restaurant, and he made fun of me."

"Well, that's not too bad." Lindsey admitted.

"If you met him, you would run. He just," I stopped to think, "it feels like he's the kind of person to pick on everything."

"There's no harm in meeting him though." She frowned. "Maybe just for a friendly lunch or quiet dinner, he could be good company."

"Yeah I'm sure," I bit my nails.

"Call him Stace, just don't dish out anything about Bradley."

"I wouldn't worry about Bradley." My fingers went through my hair, catching some knots.

"What'd you mean?"

"He's best friends with Marissa," my head hung lazily to the side.

"In that case, reveal nothing." She swept her bag from the ground. "I know we've been here for like, ten minutes, but we have to run."

"Aw," I stretched, "where ya off to?"

"Elisa has a dance lesson," Lindsey hauled her grubby little monster over her shoulder, "and we have to go winter shopping for Evie!"

"Yaaaay!"

"That sounds so fun," I pinched her nose carefully.

"Does Aunt Stacey want to come?" Lindsey asked enthusiastically.

"No she has to drown in sadness." And maybe a bottle of wine.

"Do you want me to come over later? I can leave the kids with Ryan." The thought of her poor husband alone with them hurt my head.

"No it's fine, he couldn't handle them." I joked, holding the door open.

"He's learning."

"Say hi to him," I smiled.

"Will do. Am I telling Dad you'll visit soon?"

"Sure, I'll try on the weekend." I leaned my head on the frame.

"You'd better. I'll ring you later." Lindsey groaned.

"I'll be waiting. Bye Elisa," I hugged my niece, "bye Evie."

"Bye Aunt Stacey!" She waved ferociously. I shut the door, breathing in deeply. I wandered back into the living room, picking up the bowl and scooping up majority of it. Dropping back onto the window seat, I closed my eyes, opening one randomly. I stared at my purse and sighed. I may as well call, it would be rude if I don't. I leaned over and searched for the number, pulling the napkin out and straightening it out on my leg. The phone was cold in my palm. I dialled, slightly nervous.

"One, six and eight," I pressed the receiver to my ear. Immediately someone picked up. A woman who by ear sounded a bit older answered.

"Benson United, how may I help you?"

"Hi, could you please connect me to Hal Bishop?"

"Excuse me, Hal?" She was confused. "Hold one second, please."

"Sure." I waited. What was that? A weird bohemian tune filled my ears as I waited for her to return.

"Ma'am, are you there?"

"I am." I peeked down at my nails.

"There is no Hal Bishop in the building, but there is the manager Henry Bishop." Henry Bishop?

"Okay, can you still put me through?"

"Certainly," the phone clicked.

"Benson United, Bishop speaking." It was him, definitely.

"Henry?" I asked. "Henry Bishop?"

"Yes, speaking." He sounded so professional, nothing like at the engagement.

"What happened to Hal?" Ugh, I have to get a pedicure.

"Who is this?"

"The dull writer," I chewed impatiently on my lip.

"What? Oh, Stacey!" There we go.

"You remembered."

"Of course, I haven't had fun like that in weeks." My eyes widened.

"Weeks, really?" My feet carried me randomly around the room.

"Yeah," he stretched, "I have a lot of executive meetings and stuff. There are always at least three women."

"How charming,"

"It is. But yeah, technically my name is Henry. Outside of work I prefer Hal."

"I wish you'd told me sooner," I ended up in the kitchen, "I felt like an idiot talking to the receptionist."

"She's only a woman behind a desk," he said.

"So outside of your work I call you Hal, but as soon as I step in the building it's Henry?" Assuming I visit.

"If you can handle that then yes please Stacey."

"Why couldn't I handle it?" I questioned.

"I don't know? Why would you be coming into the building?"

"Maybe I want a loan!" My arm flew up.

"Alright, cool it. You really aren't entirely dull."

"You know I thought it would be rude not to call, and now I realise why I had my doubts."

"And what are they?"

"I knew I'd get abused," I shouted, "goodbye."

"Wait, hold on!" Papers or something similar shuffled loudly.

"What?" I said ferociously.

"Can I make it up to you?" Hal pleaded. "Caspara, it's a little corner restaurant, just Google it. Tomorrow at eleven-thirty sharp, it's my treat.

"Caspara," I found a pen, scribbling it on my thigh.

"Are we good?" He coughed.

"I'm only coming for free food."

"Not for my company?"

"From what I remember you're not nice sober." He was already awful over the phone.

"I'll be on my best behaviour," I could hear his wide grin.

"See you then," I pressed the end call button. A little grin played on my lips as I went to Google the restaurant.