“About ten years,” he replied.
I shook my head as his words sank in. Ten years. He had known my brother about as long as he’d been absent. The room felt as if the air had been sucked right out of it. I expected that they’d been friends for several years, but not the entire time…
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, tracing the grain of the wood along the table. Did it really matter?
“I don’t want it to end the way it did last night,” he replied.
“It won’t,” I vowed. “And I apologize for that yesterday. It actually made me realize that I needed to deal with the realities surrounding my brother. Whatever they might be. I think I’ve been carrying around a lot more hostility about that than I knew. You were just the lucky guy who got to see it.”
“It wasn’t that bad. Kind of cute, really.” His eyes sparkled with an intensity that could never get old.
“You said you were best friends?”
“He’s like a brother to me,” he replied, sensing my unease.
“Well, at least one of us has had that experience,” I muttered, looking away. “Sorry. I’m trying not to be snarky, but it sneaks up on me.”
“I won’t try to pretend to understand the loss you felt or still feel, but I can tell you that there’s more to the story with your brother. His intentions weren’t to hurt you. They were to protect you.”
“So he talked about me?” I asked.
“Off and on, but some of the situations we were in didn’t warrant deep discussions about family.”
I cocked my head and watched Jason contemplate what next to tell me…how far to go.
“How did you meet him?” I questioned.
“He was assigned to the First Marine Division in Camp Pendleton along with me.”
“My brother was in the marines?” I sucked in a deep breath. That’s where he went?
Jason nodded.
“Wow,” I uttered. “There were a lot of scenarios that I imagined over the last ten years, but that wasn’t one of them.”
“That’s only the beginning.”
“So when did you start building bikes?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from my brother. I think at this point little tidbits about my brother were all I could handle.
“A few things happened in my life that made me reconsider what was important and what wasn’t.” His eyes darkened, and he shrugged as if answering to himself more than me.
“I can understand that,” I whispered, touching my chest. “But sometimes that’s almost harder than doing the ‘right thing’.”
“How so?” His eyes focused on me as he drew in a deep breath through his mouth. I found myself gazing at his lips far too long and blushed at the same time his lips showed signs of victory.
“Taking chances, following dreams, it all seems a lot more difficult than taking an office job or something. Not that an office job isn’t some people’s idea of a dream. I mean Brandy is preparing for law school. That’s been her dream since she was a little girl...” my voice trailed off.
“What’s your dream?” he asked. “Is it working for your father?”
I stared at him in disbelief. Not because of the question, but because he genuinely wanted an answer. It had always been assumed that I would work for my dad. There were no discussions surrounding dreams or hopes. Things were just as they were. After all, I was lucky to be handed such an opportunity. That line of thinking had been pounded into me continuously.
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is,” he replied, not taking that as a valid response.
“You’re in it,” I said, feeling the color run up my cheeks.
“In it?” he asked, puzzlement filling his eyes.
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to own a little espresso bar that served homemade pastries and cookies. I love to bake and…”
“So why don’t you?” he asked, surveying me for a reaction.
“We live in the land of Starbucks. It’s not a very practical dream. Most places that open up shut down within the first two years. With things like Yelp, it only takes a couple negative reviews.”
“Interesting.”
“What?” I asked.
“You’ve sputtered off a list of reasons why you can’t do it. I want to hear why you could.” His gaze was so intense, so curious that it took everything I had not to squirm off my chair. Never once had I dated a guy who was this forward thinking and engaged in anything I had to say, especially something that didn’t have to do with them.
“I love to bake. I’ve taken several pastry courses. I used to sell out of things I baked while I was in college. There’s nothing better than watching someone enjoy something you’ve created. I’d love to live in a small community and get to know everyone. I love people. Although, you haven’t seen that side of me,” I teased. “And working in a position that required more movement than sitting in an office would be healthier for me all around,” I stopped myself.
“So from what I hear you telling me, the one reason keeping you from pursuing your dream is the risk of failure?” he asked, his gaze boring into me.
I nodded, unable to speak. It felt so natural to open up to him. I was telling Jason things that sounded beyond fantastical and impractical, and yet, he was completely receptive and encouraging.
“Look… passion, love, and excitement radiates from you when you talk about baking.” He reached across the table and touched my hand. “Some people don’t have a passion and that’s completely fine. But when you do have a little fire within you, it’s borderline criminal to ignore it.” He removed his hand, finishing his drink. There was something mischievous hiding behind his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied, grinning. “Tell me why you enjoy working where you do.”
“That’s a stumper,” I confessed. I took a few moments to think about it. I wasn’t a numbers person, yet my job was filled with them. I enjoyed eating cheese, but I certainly wouldn’t call it a passion. I looked around the coffee shop, which had mostly cleared out as I tried to come up with something that would seal the deal explaining why I was in love with the corporate world. Kayla had gone outside to water the geraniums and propped the door open, which let in a nice breeze. I felt a call to go help her out, but I stayed put.
I pressed my lips together before beginning my onslaught of bogus reasons. “The perks are great… like box seats at all the sporting events and concerts, nice dinners and functions to attend. I get to meet a lot of interesting people. Well, maybe not interesting…but I get to meet a lot of people.” I laughed.
“What about the job? Do you like the job?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.
“Does anyone like their job?” I asked.
“Yeah. Some people do and my advice is to become one of those people before it’s too late.”
“I’m not completely sold on the idea of growing up,” I admitted out of the blue.
A subtle grin lined his lips as he drank me in.
“I think it’s overrated, myself,” he mused. “But it’s amazing how life puts us in situations to make sure we do, isn’t it?”
I didn’t see his eyes leave mine, but I wondered if he knew—if my brother knew and told him. My scar had done a marvelous job of healing in the last few years, but for some reason the skin felt tight, and I reached up to press on it through my shirt.
“Very true,” I agreed, polishing off my last sip. “Ready for that ride?”
It was official. I had become one of those people. Monday had come too quickly, and I was already looking forward to Thursday night so that I could daydream about Friday being the last day of the week.
Because our division was doing so well, my father revised the quarterly projections, realigning each division. Rather than congratulate my team on a job well done, he shot up our forecast, looking for results that seemed implausible. Apparently he wanted our team to pick up the slack of the struggling divisions, in addit
ion to our own gains. And our bonuses depended on it. Ridiculous! I was certain if anyone had worried about my team getting preferential treatment, this move certainly relieved those fears.
The added stress could be felt on our entire floor. With spirits this down, it couldn’t be expected that they’d be thrilled to offer any late nights or early mornings, which was exactly what was needed to pull this type of performance off. I called Brandy in my office and she closed the door behind her.
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting in the chair across from me.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I teased.
“I should be asking you that. I, at least, have an out in a few years.” Her eyes glimmered before her lips broke into a smile.
“Point taken. I was thinking we should get some lunch delivered for everyone. Maybe build everyone’s spirit up a bit. Is it too late to place an order?”
“We could do pizza,” she offered. “I think it’s too late for sandwiches or anything else.”
“Okay. Sounds perfect then. Do you mind shooting an email to the team, letting them know when lunch will be arriving?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I don’t envy you.”
“How is it out there?” I asked.
“They aren’t happy. The general consensus seems to be that they feel they’re being punished for doing well.”
“They’re not alone in that thinking. That’s a pretty ruthless move,” I said, glancing at a new email that came in from my father. “I talked to finance and I guess this is pretty typical. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have pushed the team to perform so well. How crazy is that?” I started laughing in disbelief at what was coming out of my mouth.
I’d sent my father several emails requesting that he reconsider the change, but it had already been sent through finance. It was a done deal, at least until we failed and they shifted the forecasts again.
Brandy stood up. “I’ll go place the order. I hear extra pepperoni calling my name. “
“Me too,” I told her as she closed the door behind her.
I walked over to the window and stared out at all of the hustle and bustle of the city. Everyone on his or her way to somewhere—who knows where—talking into cell phones with an intensity that seemed like life hung in the balance of such deliberations. The little figures rushed along the sidewalks, dodging the meandering tourists and families, on their way back to the office or off to lunch. But at the end of the day was anything really accomplished? I pushed aside the nagging feeling of being at the wrong place—inhabiting the wrong life—and turned back toward my desk to immerse myself deeper into my mistaken identity.
My purse buzzed, and I hoped it was a certain somebody sending me a text. I thought back to Jason and his bronzed skin and the scruff along his jawline, and my heart immediately skipped a beat. He was pretty captivating and all man. If I was stranded in the middle of nowhere with a broken-down car, I had full confidence he’d be able to get me on the road again. Thinking back to the guys I’d dated, I don’t think I could say that about any one of them. Was that something that age and maturity presented or was my generation full of softies and hipsters? Grabbing my phone out of my purse, I clicked on the top button and watched the screen light up.
Thinking about our ride on Saturday… Would like to see you again.
My heart fluttered, and warmth filled me up as I read his words over again. Saturday was one of the most enjoyable days I’d experienced in a long time. After we left the coffee shop, we rode for hours, covering most of the country roads and exploring less traveled paths on the island. He asked me to dinner in Winsor before I boarded the ferry, but I turned him down. Not for a good reason, but for a pretty silly one. Everything had been so wonderful that I didn’t want it to end on a bad note. I wished I had stayed for dinner. I really did. He even offered to keep it close to the ferry at a local fish house, but after asking twice he got the message. Of course, on the entire ferry ride back I was worried he got the wrong message, and poor Brandy had to listen to me rehash everything several times when I got home. It was decided after that little fiasco that I’d definitely accept his dinner request next time, if there was a next time. And now it looked like my day was turning around, and maybe there’d be one.
Before texting back, I grabbed my cup of chamomile tea and took a sip. I reached into my purse and shook out a couple tiny white and blue pills into my palm, swallowing them with another sip of tea. I didn’t want to look too eager, but I also didn’t want to blow it by waiting too long to text back. Although, I had such a knack for the latter that I had grown kind of accustom to it.
I quickly texted back.
Me, too. I’d love to go out again. Maybe take you up on that dinner offer after all?
I hit send and watched the status change from sent to delivered to read, hoping I’d get a reply pretty quickly, which I did.
Took a ride out to the lavender fields this morning. Think you might enjoy them.
My heart started pounding. Was this what could be expected from a real, adult relationship? I could really get used to this compared to the college guys I’d had to deal with.
But that being said¸ I couldn’t resist teasing him a little and quickly typed away.
Don’t you ever work?
Quick to respond, he wrote back.
Work smarter, not harder
I smiled, feeling the familiar joy spread through me as I thought about him out and about this morning, actually stopping to think about me. Could I actually be this lucky? I texted back.
So about that dinner?
The phone buzzed back a response.
Free Friday night?
My heart did a little dip, wishing our date was sooner, but I refused to become one of those chicks. I had a life and it wasn’t going to revolve around a guy.
Sounds perfect. Gotta run. Send me the details.
He wasn’t rushing things. I needed to cool my jets, take my time, and enjoy my new life. Brandy tapped on the glass to signal the pizza had been delivered, and I tossed my phone into my purse and joined everyone in the conference room. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to get the team reenergized, but I thought I might want to take a cue from Jason’s mentality. Work smarter, not harder.
I looked up to see who was peering into my office. Bennett smiled and gave a quick wave. He was one of the few employees who didn’t give me a hard time when I came on board, which I appreciated. But I hoped there weren’t any ulterior motives hidden behind his kind façade.
“Hey, Gabrielle,” he began. His blue eyes caught my attention. They seemed more playful than I would expect for a coworker just checking in.
“Yes?” I asked, clicking out of my email.
“I wanted to tell you that I thought you handled everything really well with the team. I know I’m already feeling better.”
Riiight. I looked up at him. He had moved completely into my office. He was dressed in a pair of khakis and a yellow polo. The color of it kind of reminded me of one of the labels on our bestselling cheese, and I had to keep the grin off my face. Complete kiss ass.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Was there anything else?”
“A few of us were going to head to Pinky’s Pub after work. Thought you might like to join us?” He shoved his blond hair back and waited for my reply. Brandy thought he was good looking in a preppy 1980s kind of way. I told her she had watched the Breakfast Club way too many times. Although, I didn’t actually think that was possible. That was a classic. I wasn’t sure if that really was how the eighties were, but my mother vowed it captured the era pretty well. Plus, there had been some eighties fallout into the nineties when I arrived into this world.
“Thanks, but I’ve got…” I almost choked on my words as I saw Jason roll down the hallway.
“Plans?” he asked, following my gaze. “Oh. I see.” His voice turned from sweet to irritated pretty quickly. He spun out of my office, nearly clipping Jason as he rounded the corner.
&
nbsp; “Who let you in here?” I teased.
“Brandy,” he replied, giving her a slight wave as she sat beaming in her cubicle.
“Is that so?” I found myself almost purring around him and felt a stir of pleasure as I watched him take me in.
“So this is business-Gabby?” he asked with a delightful twinkle in his eyes. “I could get used to this.”
‘It’s Gabrielle,” I corrected. Tsking my finger. “I’ll lose my street cred.”
I couldn’t hide my smile as I glanced down at my outfit. I was wearing another pencil skirt but this one was black with red stitching detail and showed off my curves.
“Have a seat,” I told him.
“Should I shut this?” he asked, grinning, pointing at the door.
“If you have to ask that, my guess is yes,” I replied, feeling butterflies flutter once more. When he turned his back toward me, I almost made a little noise as the definition of his broad shoulders came into sight. I couldn’t help but imagine rubbing his shoulders and back after a long ride.
Jason sat on the chair in front of my desk and crossed his leg, leaning back in the office chair. “I’m glad you’re willing to go on another date with me this Friday.” His voice broke through my musings of him as I looked up.
“Me too. I mean I’m glad you’re willing to invite me again,” I said, suddenly feeling a mixture of apprehension and excitement boiling in me. I glanced out the windows facing the street and wondered what on earth came over me when he was around.
He leaned forward, propping his elbows on my desk, and produced a long exasperated breath. His mouth twitched slightly when I finally turned my attention back to him.
“I wanted to give you a heads up,” he began.
“About what?” I asked.
“Your dad is going to invite you over for a dinner this week, and Aaron’s going to be there. I will too,” he said, his lips twisted into a thoughtful expression. “I just didn’t want you to be blindsided again like you were at the charity event.”
“Wow. Thanks for telling me,” I said, shifting in my seat as feelings of discomfort swept over me. “You could’ve emailed or messaged me.” Not wanting to admit that I enjoyed this method all too much.
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