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“You called me Mr. Wilcox.”
“And?”
“And you only do that, when you wanna get under my skin. And you only wanna get under my skin, when I’ve angered you.”
“Or…when I’m hoping to catch you off guard so that I can see your beautiful eyes.” My silence at the compliment spurs her to simply snicker and insist, “Circle the word.”
I do.
And I say nothing.
“Marine biology,” Bryn announces, sliding the pen out of my possession yet not the booklet. “I would be open to anything in the field, honestly, but my preference would be to avoid working in the biomed field – I’m not much into lab work – and further pursue things involving or relating to cartilaginous fish. Preservation. Conversation. Rescue. Rehabilitation. Behavioral studies.” There’s no stopping me from stealing a glance of her expression to see it glowing like it was last night. “Anything that lets me in the water would be a dream come true.” She carefully encompasses another word and offers me back the writing utensil. “Your turn.”
“You’re right.” I transfer it at the time I playfully poke, “I can’t employ you.”
Laughter leaves us both catching Hurst by surprise given the curious glance he shoots me in the rearview.
Shit.
I almost forgot he was here.
That anyone else was here except us.
How does she do that?
How does one woman so effortlessly make everything around me vanish?
I’ve only had something similar happen once.
And once was enough.
It cost lives, and that frame of focus, that single-minded level of determination is what’s kept me away from allowing it to be possible again.
Perhaps we should stop talking.
Stop communicating.
Resume letting J.T. be the middleman, the protective fence I need to save me from myself.
Others from me.
“Gonna guess you have a degree in business because I don’t think booze has a non-AA program,” Bryn continues on the subject.
“No degree.”
“Didn’t finish college?”
“Didn’t go.”
“Seriously?”
“Barely finished high school.”
“No shit?”
“The accident caused a delay there.” Locating a word on my own instills a sense of victory almost like the notion itself. “As for my extended education…I shadowed my father and grandfather for years. Benefit as much as the burden of being an only child set to inherit everything. I learned how real deals were made over brunch or searching for the right golf club. Best ties to wear for what environment. Beverages to drink. Buzz words. Never say words. Types of people to avoid. How to spot frauds. Golddiggers. I was trained to follow my instinct, learn from other successful businesses, and always, always study the market as much as the players.” The blue ink pen is slowly dragged diagonally. “Sure, being self-taught has cost me thousands, but it’s also made me billions.” I lean the pen towards her for the taking. “And continues to do so.”
An impressed hum is all the response I receive.
