WRITE TO ROMANCE

 

Jessica drove furiously through familiar back streets - happy that she'd didn't have to travel to Cottesloe; being late for meetings at Tom Collins House did not enhance her image as a professional writer.

A new writer's group - close to home too! She still bubbled with enthusiasm even though she'd spent the last twenty minutes at the wrong hall. The guy doing a karate class had been very attractive. He'd noticed her waiting anxiously, eyed her from head to toe, slicked back his hair and asked if he could help. There was definitely something about a man in uniform...

What had he said? “The last turn off Warwick Road.” Where was it? Ah-ha! Down to third (did anyone still do that ... change down to each gear - I mean take the time to do anything properly, these days). Then second - Oh bugger - there aren't any spaces. Damn! Now she was most definitely late!

Trisha was just introducing Sarah Burckett-Hughes, the State Literature Officer and motioned for Jessica to sit in the front row. All eyes turned on her.

Clutching her folder to her chest, she smoothed her skirt and made her way to an empty seat, quickly scanning the room as she did so. One set of piercing brown eyes held hers mesmerised. The chair scraped the floor loudly as she stumbled into it. He was still staring - looking deeply, holding her eyes hostage.

As her flush of shyness slowly faded, the speaker's voice began to penetrate her mushy mind. Concentrate! What a good turnout! There must be at least seventy people here. This meeting had more potential than she thought but, who was that gorgeous man with the eyes?

"Questions from the audience, please?" Trisha asked as the applause died. As she fixed pleading eyes on Jessica, she asked again, "Anyone?"

Before she knew what she was doing Jessica's hand was up. Nervously she brushed her long auburn hair behind her ears and took a breath. "Can we have a commitment that workshops usually held in the southern suburbs will now be brought to us?" Trisha smiled in relief and asked Sarah to answer the question.

“You have all demonstrated your commitment and interest - how could we ignore the demand? Yes, a program will be developed with your committee and announced in the newsletter next month.”

Another voice was heard and the question answered, then another. Each time, Jessica turned with interest only to be met by those eyes, staring at her. Now they were smiling. She pulled her hair back around her face, hiding her pleasure.

During the break, everyone was asked to speak to at least three people they had not met before. Jessica watched the audience rise, preparing to do their duty. She noted the comforting width of his shoulders as he unfolded his tall frame and tried desperately not to meet his speculative gaze.

A tall elegant lady tapped Jessica on the arm. "Hi, I'm Sally Reeves. I'm having a go at Children's."

Tearing her eyes and thoughts from the tweed jacked with leather elbows that reminded her of her father, Jessica smiled distractedly "Yes, I'm involved in a Romance group..." Making small talk while she wondered how someone with such a haughty voice could possibly relate to children and tried to concentrate.

Thankfully, Trisha rescued her. "Where were you - I thought you'd help setting up."

"I'm sorry - I was at the wrong hall." Jessica couldn't help herself and delicately pointed in the direction of 'those' eyes. Trying not to sound too desperate she asked Trisha, 'Who IS that man?"

"I have absolutely no idea?" Turning away, she continued. "But isn't this a good turnout? Come and meet Sarah, I've told her all about you." Trisha was totally focused on the business at hand and could not to be distracted.

Unfortunately, Sarah had a crowd around her, so when Simon, a young man Jessica had spoken to previously engaged her attention, Trisha drifted off to talk excitedly to someone else - doing her duty.

It was no good. Jess couldn't concentrate. Her eyes scoured the room again - where was he? A gentle cough from somewhere high behind her, made her turn and bam! Their eyes locked. Jessica's mind searched frantically for something witty to say, but her mouth dried and her lips moved idiotically.

He seemed fascinated by her dumbness. He eyes traveled leisurely up her face and engaged hers. "I must say, you don't look like the rest of them."

His voice was so deep, so rich, caressing her. What was he saying? He looked down at her mouth again, then slowly, and leisurely up to her eyes.

"Most writers look myopic - something to do with staring at computer screens or blank bits of paper, I suppose." Waiting for Jessica to respond, he took her hand and instead of shaking it, just held it.

Looking down, she was distracted by the size and gentleness of his - imagining the feel of them on her body.

"Digby Matheson."

At last she found her voice. "Jessica Matheson ...err Matthews." Oh no, she was blushing again.

The creases around his eyes showed he was used to smiling. "I noticed you didn't get any coffee or tea. Would you care to have one with me?"

"Thank you." Was that all she could manage? Embarrassed, ashamed but fascinated, she followed him to the counter.

Digby was smooth, brushing intruders away so charmingly - people trying to muscle into 'their' space. Jessica saw no one else. Her senses on overload, she drank deeply. Had coffee ever tasted so sweet? His eyes, his mouth, the front of his shirt - what colour was that -a soft pink? How was she going to keep her hands off him? Secure in his masculinity, he oozed culture - everything she had ever wanted in her perfect man.

Throwing caution to the wind, Jessica asked where he worked. "I'm one of the lucky few. I make a meager living doing what I enjoy most." The lazy reply convinced her. He was definitely the man of her dr...

Jessica spoke as if in a dream. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" Hearing herself she quickly covered her mouth and followed with "I'm trying my hand at romance..." She gasped and he was laughing with her. "I mean - I'm researching a book - a romance story." Those glorious eyes filled with understanding - he felt the same!

His gaze lifted and subtly changed - the interest masked. His body now turned slightly away, he adeptly altered whatever he was about to reply. "Ah Sarah, have you met Jessica Matthews?"

Gulping when reality intruded, Jessica prepared to formally meet the State Literature Officer. Feeling like a schoolgirl caught out, Jessica straightened her shoulders and clutched her folder tightly.

Digby's smooth, unhurried tones continued, "Let me introduce... "

A possessive hand rested on a familiar arm as a gentle but positive female voice laid claim. "…his wife, Sarah Burckett-Hughes."

 

FRANCES MACAULAY FORDE © 2000

(1st pub: 'Urban Scrawl' Members Anthology for Peter Cowan Writers' Centre, Western Australia, 2000.)