by Lia Lee
“I thought we could meet the dolphins privately, sweetie,” Brent said.
He was dressed in jeans that clung to his hips deliciously as well as a loose flowing crimson button-up shirt that gave her just a hint of the trim physique underneath. His blond hair contrasted nicely with his sharp blue eyes, and even at 9:00 a.m. and exhausted out of her mind, Jessica wanted him. God, she was in so much trouble.
Maybe Ashley had a point. She was old enough to make her own choices…
Cara giggled as she eased next to one of the trainers. Just then, one of the dolphins pushed out water through its blowhole, creating an instant fountain. The girl squealed and rubbed her wet face. “Jessica! Jessica! Did you see?”
She frowned and struggled for the correct response. “Yeah, maybe you’ll need a towel after this.”
The trainer, a thin woman with her hair pulled back in long, white braids, shook her head. “I think all of you will need towels after this. Come on up, Mr. Sanderson and Miss…?”
“Just Miss Billings,” Jessica replied. For a moment, it felt weird. Jarring. Not that she’d been working for Brent very long. But some small part of her mind did really wish that she had more to her title than just a random “Miss”.
Dumb thoughts there, Jess.
“Well,” the trainer said, and Jessica could hear just a hint of a Southern lilt in her voice. “Then come on up!”
She scurried up to the platform, imminently glad she’d worn sneakers for the slippery surface, and settled down next to a still-dripping Cara. Brent, even though he wore loafers, seemed to have a bit of surreal grace. He moved up on the slippery platform without missing a beat.
The trainer stroked the dolphin’s back once they were all there.
“Now, this is Dinah. She’s four years old, very smart, and born here. All the sea mammals here have been captive born. We don’t wild catch anything. If we need more for breeding, we exchange with other zoos or wildlife facilities. We can’t return them to the wild.”
“Why not?” Cara asked.
“Because they don’t have the instincts anymore,” the trainer said. “But our dolphins have tons of space, lots of fresh food, and each other to play with. They love to learn tricks too because it helps keep their brains active. Right, Cara?”
Cara nodded, her hair sliding from her face in a wet chunk. Well, at least her eyes were fully visible again. After the session, they’d have to get her a towel… and probably a T-shirt from the closest souvenir stand. “Yup!”
“They are very curious animals and really smart. They’re up there with monkeys and pigs.”
Cara nodded again, eyes glittering. “I knew they were smart like dogs and apes and things. But pigs?”
“Are actually really smart animals too,” the trainer said.
“But they don’t have as many brains as an octopus,” Cara replied.
“No, that’s true,” the trainer said.
“And the dolphins play a lot because?” Brent asked. “Us lay-people need more coaching in the science side.”
Jessica snorted. “Speak for yourself, Mr. Hollywood. It’s because really smart animals, just like humans, are always thinking. They can get bored, and if they get bored, eventually it can lead to them getting depressed and doing bad things to alleviate the boredom. They need to be healthy, so they need to play.”
“Bingo,” the trainer said. “Now, we have some games here. I have some fish, and if you want, Cara, I’ll teach you how to get Dinah to really jump.”
“Please! Can we?” Cara asked.
Brent sighed and looked down at himself. “But I was so dry.” Cara glared at him, and he winked. “Don’t worry. We’ll get sorted out after the training. I should have worn a T-shirt to start with.”
Jessica tried not to lick her lips at the thought of Brent in a wet T-shirt, something tight and mainly white clinging to him after a dolphin soaked it. Damn, if that wasn’t a good image.
“Anyway,” the trainer continued. “Everyone stand up very carefully.”
They each complied, although with her coordination, even with the sneakers doing their job to grip the surface, Jessica was wobbling. If they got much wetter, she’d slip into the pool and join the dolphins up close and personal.
The trainer handed Cara a moderate-sized fish that maybe was just a bit bigger than a sardine. Then she nodded toward an eagerly watching Dinah. “Okay, just hold it up, say her name, and then lift your hand palm up.”
Cara bit her lower lip. “But I’m not a trainer… Will she really do it?”
“She’s well-trained, Miss Sanderson.”
“Besides, you’re the coolest kid here, Cara,” Jessica said.
“I’m the only one.”
“You also have fish, and I bet that’s very convincing,” Brent said.
Cara nodded, stood up as tall as she could, and copied the motions from the trainer. Just like something out of Free Willy, the dolphin took a massive leap and was able to crest over all of them on the bridge and slide into the other side of the pool. As soon as Dinah surfaced, a soaked Cara (she matched the rest of them), tossed the fish toward the dolphin, who caught it eagerly in her wide mouth. Then, the trainer clapped Cara on the back of the shoulder.
“You did a great job. We might have a new junior trainer here someday.”
Cara smiled and hugged Jessica. Warmth shot through Jessica as she watched Cara then hug a dripping Brent. She couldn’t help but smile; they were adorable together, such a tight-knit family unit. Clearly, Brent would do anything for his daughter. The least of it was some dolphin splashes. There was no way he’d ever really jeopardize the happiness having a nanny was bringing her, this new outlet of friendship that Cara was forming with her.
Jessica just needed to forget about it.
***
“Okay, so color me confused,” Jessica said.
Brent pointed to the largest complex at the San Diego Zoo, which hosted the main visitors’ center, the food prep kitchen for the African and South American animals, and probably a few staff offices too. “Look, Alex and his daughters are sitting with Cara getting ice cream right now.”
Jessica smirked at that. “It was really nice for you to let the driver bring his family and enjoy a day at the zoo, too.”
“Pointless to have him sit out there, and Mandy and Rebecca are younger than Cara, but I figured they’d love this place, too.”
“Who doesn’t?”
Brent narrowed his eyes a little at his neon-colored shorts and T-shirt, with a cartoon shark and playing card suits on it that was simply labeled Card Shark. “I might have liked it a bit better with a poncho.”
“Good point,” she said, wringing a few more drops from her hair and snuggling into the blue whale sweatshirt she’d picked up to stay warm. “But we don’t have to wander off…” She stopped when they sidled into the building to be greeted by a smiling woman in a tan jumpsuit, something she probably wore over her real clothes to protect them. On her shoulder, sat a ring-tailed lemur with its distinct black and white tail arched high over his back and head. “Wow.”
“You’re Jessica, right?”
She swallowed hard and stood in front of the trainer. “I am. I… Who are you?”
“I’m Marjorie Stinson, and I’m head of the Lemur Biology and Breeding Program here. Mr. Sanderson mentioned that you had been keenly interested in our internship program.”
Jessica was so surprised, and her mouth had suddenly gone so dry that she could only nod and grunt a bit. “Uh-huh.”
Brent stepped up beside her. “Yes, she did. I confess, I’m glad it didn’t work out because I lucked into one of the best employees I’ve ever had. She’s creative, hard-working, dedicated, and the care she’s shown my daughter is exemplary. I know they’re not the same skills she’d need to learn docent work here, not exactly, but when I spoke to the primate department supervisor on the phone, he was very keen to follow up with Jessica.”
Marjorie nodded, and the lemur chittered a
bit beside her. “We all agree. In the fall, Jessica, you’ll get an email to schedule an orientation session. You’ll be the first fall docent intern in our history. Congratulations.”
Her heart was pounding so hard that she almost missed the words. Blinking wildly back at Marjorie, Jessica finally found her voice again. “Yes! I’d love to.”
“And would you like to let Cassius sit on your shoulder? He’s fairly old, to be honest. Won’t mind a bit.”
Jessica grinned broadly. “Please!”
As the old lemur settled on her shoulder, the softness of his fur settling against her cheek, Jessica couldn’t help but catch Brent’s eye. He was smiling back at her, but maybe, just maybe, there was something more, something appreciative in his glance that wasn’t just her wishful thinking.
***
In spite of her better judgment, when Brent suggested that they have dinner together while Cara was at her grandfather’s, she’d accepted the invitation. He’d been a perfect gentleman all day, apart from the stray lingering glance (though he wasn’t the only one guilty of that). But as the sun set, a bit of wistfulness settled into her chest, and the feeling that she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to leave him alone in that house and be alone in her apartment.
She just wanted to stay with him.
After the zoo, and after Cara had left for her grandfather’s, they’d stopped back at Brent’s mansion. He’d changed into a suit and tie to match the dress code of the restaurant. She wasn’t sure how, probably by that same rich people magic that allowed him to get a reservation the same day at an exclusive restaurant, but he had a set of dresses for her to try on. She’d had no idea when he’d asked her size at lunch that was where he was going with it.
Jessica looked up at the immaculate building in front of her. She ran a hand down the front of her red dress and hoped she hadn’t sweated too much while walking around at the zoo.
“We’ll be on the patio. I called ahead.”
Jessica raised a brow. “When did you call, exactly?”
“While you were talking to that monkey expert.”
“That’s some optimistic thinking. I hadn’t even said yes yet.”
“It’s not that onerous to cancel a dinner reservation if you’d said no.” Brent held the door open for her, and the hostess gave her a smile and took them out to the patio immediately.
“Order whatever you like,” Brent offered.
“I plan to.” Jessica held up her menu and smiled cheekily at him.
“Do you like oysters?”
“Um, sure?”
“You aren’t certain?”
Jessica cringed. “I’ve only ever had them fried. Or in shots.”
Brent leaned forward. “Shots? As in drinks?”
“Yep. With vodka… some tabasco sauce.”
He sat back and laughed deep in his chest. “I don’t think they offer oyster shots here.”
When the waiter came by, Brent put in an order for the Paradise Cove oysters, and they both ordered a Caesar salad.
“And for my entrée, I will have the New York Strip,” Brent said.
“And I,” Jessica said, “will have the filet mignon and South African lobster tail.”
She raised her brows at Brent and then gave him a wink as she handed the waiter her menu.
“Actually, that’s a brilliant idea. Cancel the steak. I’ll have what the lady is having. Medium rare on the filet mignon.” Brent nodded to her.
When the waiter left, Jessica sipped her water. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Why not have a perfect dinner to end the perfect day?” Brent moved the tip of his finger around the edge of his glass. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“You know about me. You probably know more about me than I do about you.”
“What do you want to know?” Brent paused as the waiter came by to let them try the wine.
Jessica lifted the white wine the waiter had just poured.
“A Chardonnay.” Brent sipped. “Light notes of vanilla. Always nice with a good lobster.”
Jessica mimicked Brent and sipped her wine. “Mm.”
The waiter nodded and left with the bottle open on their table, waiting.
“Okay, so I have an admission,” Jessica said.
“Oh?”
“I can’t tell the difference between a five-dollar bottle of wine and a rare thousand-dollar vintage. Not gonna lie.”
Brent grinned. “It’s about the complexity. Some wines, you just drink. The point is to drink. Others, they have layers of flavor and depending on where the grapes were grown, among other factors, you’ll taste that. So, when we get our entrées, we’ll take a bite, savor it, and then take a sip of the wine. You’ll see how it changes.”
“I thought I was being taken out to dinner, not going to a class.”
“You asked. And we’ve both learned things about drinking tonight. For example, I never knew people drank oysters.”
“Just knock ‘em back.” Jessica mimed the motion.
“Good Lord.”
“Now, you tell me.” Jessica leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. “You know I do a bit of shots and have some fun. What were you like before you had Cara? My roommate says there’s a lot of dirt about you out there.”
“And you haven’t looked at it?”
“I don’t like to Google people. It’s a weird thing my generation does.”
“Fair.” Brent folded his hands. “I definitely had my fun before I married LeeAnne.”
“Shots? Or was it all fancy wine sipping?”
“Oh, there were shots. And wine. And bourbon. I do like a good whiskey,” Brent admitted. “Much more than I like vodka or tequila, to be honest. In fact, I don’t really drink tequila anymore at all.”
“Really. Is there a story that goes with that rule?” Jessica waggled her brows.
“Of course.”
“Great. You tell me your tequila story, and I’ll tell you my rum story.”
Brent chuckled. And so it went. They shared their tales of drunken debauchery, and in Jessica’s case, crying out on her friend’s porch in the snow. They talked about what Brent had studied in college, mostly business but with a good number of electives in film and art. Jessica admitted that all she knew about painting came from YouTube.
“I never would have thought to look there for instructions,” Brent said.
Jessica stabbed her salad. “My generation does it all the time. Even when it comes to new software and things. Can you use this program? Always say yes. Go home, look it up, and figure it out. It’s like we’re cheating, but you have to. Jobs are scarce.”
“It’s not cheating. That’s clever. As an employer, I always want someone who knows how to figure out something on their own.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Brent reached over and patted Jessica’s hand. “Don’t listen to what people say about ‘your generation’. I know the market. I know more than one. It always comes down to who is willing to work the hardest. I’ve never noticed bad employees to be something that came from a specific generation. It usually has to do with rich kids who expect everything to be given to them.” He chuckled. “I was a terrible employee at my first job.”
“Tell me about that.”
So far, Jessica had been attracted to Brent. He smelled amazing. He was handsome. He was tall and strong. Letting him kiss her always had to do with that magnetic draw to him in a physical way. Now, listening to him, her nerves seemed to come alive, and it wasn’t just because of the wine. It seemed as though she discovered the different flavors, she discovered a man whose talent and intelligence was best brought out by his warmth and kindness.
He was far more complex than she had allowed him to be in her perspective. By the time their forks hit the dessert, a hot chocolate Godiva cake, Jessica couldn’t take her eyes off him. His voice warmed her even as the ocean breeze lifted her hair and cooled her.
At the end of dinner, they’d gon
e through two bottles of wine, along with several glasses à la carte that Brent had ordered so she could taste the difference between wines. Dessert had been accompanied by a “nice aged port”. Consequently, when Jessica rose to leave the table, she felt the full weight of all that wine and good food and stumbled.
Brent caught her arm and held her securely until she waved him off. Then, he put his hand on her back protectively as they returned to the car, where he opened the door for her and let her set the distance between them.
Her cheeks burning and heart racing, she waited until the driver had gotten on the road and then slid a little closer to him.
“Do you do this often?” Jessica looked up at Brent with a bashful smile.
“I’ve been to this restaurant before.”
“No. I mean, do you send your daughter to her grandfather’s so you can offer girls fine wine?”
Brent looked down at her sternly.
“Oh, don’t be that way.” Before she could stop herself, her fingers were in the back of his soft blond hair. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Cara doesn’t have a lot of family. That’s really the main reason I allow my father in her life.” Brent let his head fall back a little, and Jessica massaged his scalp gently. “As for the girls, I hope you know that I’m not taking women out to dinner every weekend. I’ve had maybe four dates since LeeAnne passed. Two of those were ambushes from my father.”
“Those must’ve been awkward.”
“Intensely.” Brent shifted in his seat and looked into her eyes. “Are you finding out about your competition?”
“No.” Jessica dipped her head and rubbed her lips.
“Well, if you were, you should know that the two women I actually chose to date have happily settled with husbands by now, and one of the women my father set me up with has a very nice wife.”