“Hubba hubba,” said Mia, then dribbled a string of saliva onto Audrey’s arm as she laughed with a mouth full of chewed apricot.
“Did you see that rescue action. Oh, I die. You have to hire him just for his hero moves and the fact that he’s this big, gorgeous brute of a boy. I’d turn stalker for him, I would,” said Les.
Audrey shifted Mia to her other hip. “While you’re at it, did you note the girlfriend?”
“Tall, athletic, Asian, almost naked, has to be a model? Nope, didn’t notice her at all. Did you note the best mate? The muscles, the tatts that faux Mohawk. I think he might have one of those plug things in his ear and I’d like to lick his tattoos.”
“Lick,” said Mia, right in Audrey’s ear.
Les handed Mia another apricot. “The masculine handclasp thingy, that’s so butch. I’m having a hot flush and I’m too spring chook for that. I’d hire Reece for the Faux Mo friend alone.”
Audrey hitched Mia higher on her hip. “Want to go down?” She got an emphatic headshake and an accidental hair pull. “How is you objectifying the prospective employee helping?”
“That’s what you say to me at work when we’re negotiating a contract and you don’t think I’m being commercial enough. ‘That’s not helping, Les.’ This is the weekend. I’m helping by being here as your independent observer, like the UN.”
Mia squirmed. “Down.”
Audrey let Mia slither down her body and she promptly sat and snatched up a discarded chocolate bar wrapper. “No, Mia.”
“I lick this. It’s good. Les says I can because I like it. Hubba hubba.”
She bent and took the wrapper from Mia’s hand. “No. Dirty. Not yours.”
“Nooo. Hubba hubba. Listen to me. I like chocolate better, and tattoos.”
How did the little monkey know it was a chocolate wrapper? “Les is a bad influence.”
Les laughed and Mia giggled, slanting a look from Audrey to Les. “Um-ah.”
“I like chocolate and tattoos too. I really do, Mia,” said Les.
“Lick them?”
“Not today. Mummy might get mad at me.”
“She won’t. But we need new Cameron soon or she might cry.”
That was telling. Audrey tucked the wrapper and the Tupperware in her bag. She put her foot on the edge of the kick-plate of Mia’s three-wheel scooter and flicked it upright. Reece kept looking towards the clock on the surf club wall. Five minutes and they’d be late.
“Well girls, what do you think about Reece bringing his entourage? Good call, bad call?”
“Too bad,” said Mia with a shrug that knocked the strap of her fairy dress off her shoulder. She righted it with a dramatic sigh.
“Faux Mohawk, earplug, tattoos. What’s not to like?” said Les.
Mia stood on the scooter. “I like to lick too, especially chocolate.”
Les pushed her sunglasses up her nose. “He’s being transparent about his life and what you can expect. Have any of the other candidates been so forthcoming?”
She had a point. The other candidates could be members of secret satanic cults or scrapbooking nuts in their spare time for all she knew. But did it matter? There was a line between being an employer and a friend and it was best not to cross it, especially when the employee was in your own home and so hubba hubba. But how did knowing Reece had an ultra-hot girlfriend make any difference to his job application? It shouldn’t. It wasn’t relevant.
“If you know he’s going home to that every night you won’t have to worry about any rogue attractions,” said Les.
“Rogue attractions? You mean like the one between you and Faux Mo.” Yes, blast it, she was attracted to Reece. You’d have to be in a coma not to be.
Les sighed. “Faux Mo is merely a dream, not a commercial reality. We both know birds would fall out of the sky dead if a stone cold fox like him even looked at me. He’d have to trip over me to notice me.”
Audrey went to protest, to deny Les her defence mechanism, but Mia rode into her shin. “Who’s fo mo?”