Page 17 of Surfer Girl

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I was hoping to have a little personal time to get it straight before I hit the floor.”

“No makeup either. And you wore that shirt the other day and haven’t had time to wash out the remoulade stain on the left sleeve, so I surmise it’s been tossed over your passenger seat since then.”

“Is your side hustle a detective agency, Brett, because…bravo.” She met his eyes and gave him a small, soft golf clap of appreciation.

He ignored her. “And from the way it’s not buttoned right, I further presume you put it on in your car as well, which leads me to believe you spent the night somewhere other than…home? And wanted to get out in a hurry?”

His words might have been observant, even cutting, but Brett’s tone was gentle. Almost understanding. “I didn’t want to disturb her,” Jessie confessed, no longer struggling to hide or camouflage pronouns for her typically macho boss. “But I knew if I went home and sat around and looked at my same four walls, I’d break the spell, so…”

“So you came here instead?”

She glanced down at the red cardboard cup. “I guess this is my home away from home, Brett.” She struggled to keep the emotion out of her voice but wasn’t sure she succeeded.

“Well…” He sighed heavily, then surprised her with some real talk. “I apologize, Jessie, if I’ve made your second home anything other than welcoming. That was never my intention.”

She nodded, not quite giving him the reply he probably wanted to hear. She was simply too tired, or perhaps too blissed-out, to trade bullshit with him at that moment. Instead, she lobbed back some real talk of her own. “Maybe not, Brett, but…that was certainly the result.”

“I can only apologize, Jessie. I guess I just didn’t realize until your passionate speech yesterday how much resentment you had against me.”

“I don’t resent you, Brett. I feel like it’s the other way around. Ever since you caught Carol and me at the Christmas party, I feel like there’s been this…thing…between us. Like, to me, that’s the most natural thing in the world. And to you? It’s some deep, dark secret you need to keep buried.”

Brett glanced away thoughtfully, as if forming a careful response. His eyes remained fixed on the nearby “Daily Specials” board as he replied, “I have a daughter like you, Jessie.”

Jessie smirked, eager to break the ice-cold tension that had frosted up the table between them. “What? Smart? Sassy? Talented? Hardworking? Loyal?”

His tense exterior broke into a soft, gentle smile she’d never seen before. “Actually, yes. All of those things, and more.”

“Funny, I’ve never heard you mention her.”

“Rosie and I don’t speak. Anymore. Not for years and years.”

“Why?”

His sigh was heavy and deep. “I guess for the same reason I’ve kept you at bay ever since, well… I’m old-fashioned. I admit it. I’m stubborn too. Think I know what’s best for everyone. No coffee after four p.m. Fiber pills every night. Hydrate, that kind of thing. I’m trying. Honestly. To change. It’s hard. I’m old.”

“You’re not that old and, Brett? It’s not that hard to just mind your own business.”

He chuckled wearily. “It is hard when you care about someone, Jessie. And believe it or not? I do care about you. Very much. I want a bright future for you. That’s why I push you and worry for you.”

Jessie thought about Sophie’s sweet, sheltering embrace, her tender, aching kisses and earnest eagerness to please. How different would Brett have reacted if she’d been doing the Walk of Shame from a boy’s house, instead of a girl’s? And why was she still fighting this battle in 2023? “There’s nothing to worry about, Brett. Love is love, you should know that by now.”

He shrugged. “I do, honestly. Who knows? Maybe I’m just a crotchety old man who’s jealous that you’re out here catching feelings left and right and I’m going home to a TV dinner and romance novels every night.”

“Left and right? Sophie’s the first girl I’ve had feelings for in years, Brett. You should know, you see me every day.”

He grimaced a little, hearing her gush about Sophie, and she chuckled. “Wow, you really are old-fashioned, aren’t you?”

Brett blushed slightly before sitting up, as if the blunt discussion had resolved whatever issues he’d been grappling with since their brief run-in the day before. “Hey, I’m working on it, okay? In that vein, you’ll be happy to know that I put you up for a promotion in this quarter’s review. I can’t imagine corporate giving me any pushback considering my glowing review appraisal and your blemish-free work record, so…” He offered a hand across the table. “Congratulations in advance.”

She shook it firmly. It was the one useful piece of advice her male chauvinist stepfather had taught her over the years. “Wow, Brett, thanks.”

He squeezed her hand gently before slipping from her vice-like grip. “Long overdue, Jessie, honestly.” He stood then, as if eager to distance himself from sins both real and imagined.

She joined him. “Either way, Brett, thanks for taking the time to clear things up today.”

He made an uncomfortable face, as if he’d allotted all the patience he had for apologies already and couldn’t muster another conciliatory smile to save his life. “Well, like I said, it was long overdue.”

She nodded, tight-lipped, and waited for what might happen next. He noticed. “What?”

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