Page 77 of King of Hearts

Sitting at my desk, I logged into my computer, but the sight of Felicity standing in Darren’s office caught my attention. She stood with her back to me but there was something different about her body language today. She had her hand on her hip and her other gesticulated wildly, emphasising whatever it was she was saying. I could only catch sporadic glimpses of Darren’s face but he appeared flustered, clearly uncomfortable with her words.

What the fuck was going on?

Typing my credentials into the computer, I sent Andy an email asking him how things were going at the club and informing him I’d seemingly entered an alternate universe.

Scrolling through my inbox, one eye still fixated on the conversation ahead, I cleared a few spam emails before the door to Darren’s office flew open. I jolted upright as the noise startled me and Felicity appeared, her eyes red.

Was she crying?

She locked eyes with me, pausing as if she wanted to say something but was having some kind of internal battle. Darren stood behind her glancing between us quickly as his mouth moved, his words too quiet for me to hear. Something was wrong and when I finally looked at Darren properly – it registered.

I felt the confusion in my scrunched brows dissipate as realisation hit me like a sledgehammer. I lunged for my computer, opening the Urban Pulse website. I didn’t need to scroll. I didn’t need to click a link or follow a post. Because when it loaded, I felt all the blood drain from my face as I stared at a picture of Andy with the caption –Captain Cocaine Caught!

My eyes moved across the page quicker than my brain could process, phrases jumping out at me as if I already knew what to look for amongst the words which headlined our entire site.

Defamatory lies, fabricated quotes and embellished speculation sandwiched within parts of my own work. As I hastily scrolled, desperate to know the full extent of the damage, the fire roared in my stomach. It moved up through my chest, lingering in my oesophagus as my hand shook against the mouse, my eyes fixated on what I was reading.

It was the number one article in the country with 400 new views every minute – and counting. And my name was labelled at the bottom alongside my company portrait.

Senior Editor - Arnabelle Frost.

A manipulation of my trust. A bruise to my credibility but more importantly my heart. A doctored article which portrayed Andy as a drug meddling football player who fostered and encouraged substance use in the Hearts.

Closing my eyes I aggressively sucked in oxygen. The heat swarmed my chest, my cheeks flaming with lava which flickered behind my eyes. I cleared my mind – closing the mental tabs to anything other than my next move. I knew there would be no more discreet eye rolling or pasted smiles attached to fraudulent manners because this was beyond anything he had ever done. This was personal and there was absolutely no coming back from something so appalling. What happened next didn’t matter – because I was done.

Schooling my features, I opened my eyes and shut off my computer. I could feel the knowing stares of every single one of my colleagues piercing my skin but I didn’t dare look up. Reaching for my bag, which I hadn’t even unpacked, I stood and slowly walked towards Darren’s office.

Felicity stood frozen a couple of metres from his door, her panic-stricken gaze fixated on me and I spared her only a passing glance as I entered the office. Darren stood behind his desk, a look of satisfaction across his reprehensible face and I felt the fury cavorting through my bloodstream.

“I always knew you were a scumbag. I knew you were pathetic and jealous and incompetent. But I didn’t know you were a narcissistic megalomaniac.” My voice was void of all emotion as I spoke truths I had wanted to say for so long.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, woman. You’re letting your hormones speak for you.” Darren scoffed in a belittling manner but I could see the way my words hit a nerve.

“Are you fucking kidding right now?” I asked incredulously.

“Watch your mouth, Arna, this is a professional environment,” He snapped. “I did you a favour. I also gave you a promotion. So perhaps you should show some gratitude.”

“Professional? Gratitude?” I repeated his words for myself and him as surely, I hadn’t heard correctly.

“Yes, Arna, gratitude. You think dating some drug addicted footballer makes you better than anyone else? You would be nothing without me. I should fire you for your insolence.”

“Fire me?” I laughed; a maniacal smile etched on my face at his disillusionment. “You are unethical, unprincipled and unscrupulous. There will be no need for a termination.” I added, laughing again as a sharp thrill buzzed through me when I noted the uncertainty on his face. Taking a step closer I stared him directly in the eye. “Darren, you are a cunt!” I stated plainly before lowering my voice. “And if you ever publish something under my name again – something you have manipulated and modifiedwithoutmy permission – Iwilldestroy you. Publicly. We both know that if there is a war of words, you won’t even come close to matching me so I would be very fucking careful.” His face was red but he didn’t utter a word.

Internally gloating at his stunned silence, I swiped the small prickly succulent sitting on his desk and shoved it at his face. “Go and deep throat a cactus, arsehole. I quit!” Dropping the plant onto the desk with a thud, I stormed from his office with a sick sense of satisfaction despite knowing it wouldn’t last long and reality was going to be a bitter pill to swallow.

Looking around the near deserted office and my now empty desk, I sighed. The oppressiveness of the last two days weighed deeply on my shoulders and I wasn’t sure what was heavier, the box of my belongings or the bags under my eyes which exhibited the less than three hours sleep I had since I was last here.

“Let’s go, Arn.” Marlee’s soft voice halted what was one final moment of weakness where I contemplated reneging on my resignation before I nodded solemnly and followed her out of the building.

“Marls, thank y–” My voice broke as the tears I had kept at bay since I first read the excoriated filth escaped. Dropping the box of my things on the pavement outside, I leant against the wall and let my emotions free.

“Oh, Arna.” Marlee threw her arms around me, the comforting smell of her coconut shampoo crushing me with a feeling of solidarity.

“I love him, Marls. And he didn’t even give me the chance to explain. I didn’t even get the chance to tell him those words weren’t mine. I wouldn’t have – I would never –” Another sob wracked through me and Marlee squeezed me tighter.

“I know, sweetie. I know. I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix this.”

Looking around I noticed a few people watching, at least one with their phone out, and the comprehension that this could also be splayed across tomorrow’s headlines hit me.

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