The Ex Factor Read Free Page A

Adam is being facetious, but I hate being expected to justify my choices. Especially to my best friend. I’m not so different from Bananarama: blindside me and I’m liable to bite. ‘And besides, it was high time I got my own place. It was a bit sad to still be in a share house at twenty-eight.’
    Adam’s face falls at my little dig; he’s had a succession of flatmates occupying my former bedroom ever since I left his apartment two years ago. He still has one now: Danielle, the sweet vet nurse at his practice. I suspect he’d like her to be more than his nurse/lodger, but I haven’t been able to get him to admit it.
    Adam could afford the mortgage on his place by himself, but he works irregular hours and likes to know there’s someone at home to keep his animals company. As well as Ringo, his menagerie includes Beryl the haughty Russian Blue cat, Midget the Cockatiel and two goannas whose names I never bothered to learn because they creep the hell out of me. If I’m a crazy dog lady, Adam’s the Dr Doolittle of crazies.
    ‘I just think you deserve to share your home with someone who appreciates all you do for them,’ he says, wounded. I feel instantly contrite.
    ‘Like you appreciated me, Mr “I don’t know where the vacuum cleaner bags are so we’ll just live in a home carpeted with dog hair”?’
    At last, Adam’s smile returns. ‘Dog hair is a totally legitimate floor covering. It’s cost-effective. It comes in a wide range of colours. It’s warm in winter, cool in summer.’
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    ‘In fact, I must make a note to call Frankie and tell her about the benefits of dog hair carpeting. I bet none of her fancy house magazines are onto it.’
    ‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate the tip,’ I say, glad he’s come out of his funk.
    We fall into companionable silence as we watch our dogs bound around the park. The first rays of tangerine sunlight are peeping above the horizon and we’re no longer alone; a handful of dogs and their owners have joined us. It’s still too early for the wider world to have stirred, but I know both Adam and I are thinking about the day ahead.
    ‘So how’s Danielle working out at the clinic?’ I ask in what I hope is a casual way.
    ‘She’s, ah, she’s good. She’s pretty green, but she’s got the passion and she’s a quick learner.’
    ‘Oh, yeah? And what passionate things are you teaching her?’
    I thought the ‘nudge nudge, wink wink’ was implied, but from the corner of my eye, I see Adam shoot a sharp glance in my direction.
    ‘What are you working on?’ So he’s determined to give me
nothing
on the Danielle front. Damn him.
    ‘I’ve got a new gig starting today, actually,’ I reply, pulling out my phone to check the time. ‘In fact, I’d better get going. Call time is six-thirty.’
    ‘Movie or commercial?’
    ‘Movie. Some post-apocalyptic blockbuster. One man and his dog against an anarchic world. The usual stuff.’ I let out a piercing whistle and Reggie, Dolly and Ringo all come running. Fleetingly, I wish Frankie were there to see it. That’ll teach her to impugn my skills as a trainer. Reggie can’t even hear me, but he knows when he’s wanted. ‘It’s called
Solitaire
.’
    ‘Oh right, I read about it. That’s the new Mitchell Pyke one.’
    I whirl around to face Adam. ‘What? Mitchell
Pyke
?’
    ‘Yeah. They’re saying it’s his Oscar flick. Which strikes me as a bit presumptuous, since it hasn’t been made yet.’
    ‘Mitchell Pyke is in
Solitaire
?’ I repeat.
    ‘Yes, Kathryn. The actor Mitchell Pyke is in the movie
Solitaire
, and I assume you’ll be wrangling his canine companion.’ Adam looks at me strangely when I don’t react to his pointed use of my loathed real first name. ‘I think the lack of sleep’s getting to you. Bloody Frankie and her histrionics. Are you going to be okay on set?’
    I ponder Adam’s question as my mind once again replays a saucy slideshow from my dream. Here comes that blush