Desk Jockey Jam (14 page)

He looked thoroughly
confused now.  “Doesn’t it?”

“Oh my God!  You think the
only reason a woman would reject you is because she’s a lesbian?  You egotistical,
narcissistic—”

Ant’s hands came up as if
to fend off an attack.  “Whoa.  Are you bi?”

“Pig-headed, holier than
thou, big boofy, temperamental, ignorant, judgemental—”

“Bree?”  

He took a step back and
smacked into a built-in shelf unit, hitting his head.  He winced so it must
have stung. 
Good
.  She took a step forward and he tried to disappear
into the shelving.  “I can’t believe I kissed you!” 

“Bree.”

She glared at him.  He
looked like he’d been dumped by a surprise wave and came up coughing sand.  She
banked her anger.  He wasn’t worth spending it on.  She pulled the door open
and went for her desk and there wasn’t a single pain left in her body, because
they’d all packed their bags and migrated to her heart.

13:      Stickyfoot

Ant lasted till midday
before he rang Toni, which was his next tactical error after thinking the
copier room was a good place to talk to Bree privately.  Toni growled one word,
“Lunch,” and hung up on him.  He texted an apology, he was getting practice at
saying sorry at least, then stuck to his desk like he was the hook and it was
the fuzz of velcro.  He couldn’t peel himself away.  He had no desire to even
need an occasion to avoid eye contact with Bree.  And he certainly didn’t want
to see her limping and imagine how bruised and sore she must be.  He didn’t
know what to think let alone say to her. 

Did she like girls or did
she like him? 

When she’d whimpered in
his ear on Friday night he’d been sure she liked him, then when she’d called it
off, he’d blamed himself for moving too fast, going too hard.  He’d planned to
apologise for that, ask for a second chance, and promise to go slow, but it’d
all seemed so logical, her, “I can’t, it’s wrong,” when he thought she
preferred girls.  And man, that burned.  Worse than the sun.

He’d finally turned up a
girl who was big enough to make him think differently, strong enough to make
him want to support her, smart enough to make him feel humbled, and brave
enough to put him to shame.  And he’d thought it was real.  Not real like
permanent bliss or even a certain future.  Not even real like Dan and Alex, or
Mitch and Belinda or Fluke and Carlie, but real in a way his momentary fantasy
about Toni never had been.  That madness had been about being the good son and
brother, a stupid notion about making the ghost of his father happy.  His
madness for Bree was selfishly about himself, about being a better person.  He
thought he might be able to be a better version of his arrogant, egotistical
self if only he could hang around her for a while.

And it might’ve worked,
even without the bonus of kisses that made him want to forget every woman he’d
ever touched his lips to and changed the sheets for.  A mate like Bree would be
an asset, no matter what her preference was.  Alex and Scott were still as
tight as they’d been before Dan came along, why couldn’t he and Bree be mates,
even if they did have other partners to fool around with.  But he’d somehow
fucked that up too.  This was worse than when they’d first disliked and avoided
each other because now all that angst was out in the open and full of rot and worms.

Ant sat at his desk and
rarely lifted his eyes from his screen, hiding behind a spreadsheet and screeds
of pretend busy while he waited for Toni to call so he could beg her to help him
out.  Once the word ‘beg’ wouldn’t have been in his vocab because there was no
way he’d put himself in a position where begging was the ‘get out of jail’ card,
but lately embarrassing himself had taken on a whole new meaning, and when
you’d sunk this low, you grabbed any handhold you could reach.

When he was finally game
enough to lift his eyes, the office had emptied and Bree was gone.  That
should’ve made him feel better.  His neck was grateful, he rolled it, hearing
it crack from being so fixed for so long, but the rest of him felt hollow.  He
checked his phone for the umpteenth time, but Toni hadn’t come back to him—though
sensibly he figured it was dinner time and she’d be busy in the kitchen again.

He packed up, bailed the
Alfa out of the car park and headed to the gym where he hit things for too long
and lifted things that were too heavy, until the burn in muscles and tendons
matched the one his head and on his skin, and he dragged his limbs like he
dragged his heart.

It was ten when Toni
called.  He met her at the restaurant where she worked and they talked while
the staff packed up around them and readied for the next day’s lunch service. 
All he’d said on the phone was he needed advice.  She settled him with a
macchiato while she drank red wine and ate a belated meal.

“So, what, cough it up,
Ant.  What do you need?”

“There’s a girl on your
derby team.”  He cut the sentence abruptly because he sounded like a fucking fifteen
year old.  He dropped his head to look at the sauce stain on the linen table cloth
rather than Toni’s smirk.

“Bree.  I know.  She works
with you.”

“Ah.”  He looked up and
frowned.  “I guess I should’ve figured you’d know that.”

“I didn’t know it.  She
saw you at the first bout you came to.  She wasn’t happy you were there.”

And that was before all
this crap rained down.  “Then I really am wasting your time, Tone.”  There
seemed to be no bottom to this dark pit of humiliation he was in, and no
torchlight coming from Toni.  It was time to pull his head in and give it up. 
He and Bree had existed by avoiding each other before, they could again.  “Tell
me how your night went instead.”

Toni clattered a knife on
her plate.  “No chance.  My night was loud, frantic, steamy, but not in a good
way, and it’s over.  I’m way more interested in you and Kitty Caruso.”

“There is no me and Kitty
Caruso, or me and Bree Robinson.”

“But my third eye tells me
you want there to be.”

“Third eye.”  Ant scoffed,
then downed his coffee in one mouthful.  “Does your third eye happen to know if
Bree likes girls?”

“She likes me.  She plays
in an all girl roller derby league.  I think it’s safe to say she likes girls.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh!”  Toni said that so
loudly, a waiter approached.  She waved him off with a new coffee order.  She
stretched over the back of her chair, head to the ceiling, arms wide, as though
hugging the room and all its empty tables.  Her “I wish,” came from somewhere
filled with longing Ant recognised, it tripped a switch on his latent hope.

“You’re sure?”  If Toni
was teasing him, he’d shock the remaining restaurant staff by ticking her till
she wet herself.  He knew exactly how.

Toni yawned.  “Yeah, she
likes ruling class.”

“Ruling class?” 

“Cock.  Dick.”  She
shrugged, “Blokes.”

“You’re absolutely sure
about that?”

“I’ve known her since high
school—I’m sure.  She was a little tart for while there.  Not now though.  Why
are you asking that?  Oh don’t tell me.  You made a pass at her and she
rejected you, and the only reason you can think that would happen is she’s a
lesbian.”

Ant groaned.  He looked at
his empty coffee cup.  Humiliation was a colour even more rancid than puce.  “Why
were we ever friends?”

“We were never really
friends, you big doofus.  You were the brother I never had, right down to
ignoring me when you felt like it.”

He sighed, she was right. 
That’s why they could sit here and have this conversation now, because they
were as good as family, the kind of family that wasn’t necessarily fair or
rational or constant, but would bounce back anyway.  “Ah, shit, Tone.”

“Reckon.  You’re in
trouble, mate.”

He nodded his thanks to
the waiter who brought fresh coffee.  “How do I fix this?”

“You even want to?”

It went deeper than want. 
“I need to.  She’s incredible and I’ve done the wrong thing by her.”

Toni stood up abruptly and
did a little jig, singing, “Anthony loves Bree.  Anthony loves Bree.”  Several
heads poked out of the kitchen area to see what was going on.

“What are you five?” he
hissed.

She sat.  “What are you
fifteen?  If you’ve fallen for her, you know what to do.”

“I haven’t fallen for her.” 
Toni didn’t need to know he was so far down the well of fallen, and so in the
dark about how that happened, he felt like his head might implode.

“How many times have I
seen your penis?”

He groaned.  She was such
a brat.  “Do you think you could ask that in a louder voice so the dish pig can
hear you?”

“I’m trying to say I know
you, so l know, you know what to do.”

“You don’t know me.  Like
I didn’t know you were this posh chef.”

“And stunning lesbian.”

“Right.”

Toni smacked her hand on
the table.  “Wrong.  You didn’t know me because you couldn’t be bothered.  That’s
my whole point.  You’re bothered about Bree—that’s big.  You like her.  She
rocked your world didn’t she?”

Ant picked up the still
lit fancy candle.  “She rocked it.”  He blew it out.  “She rolled it so hard
she nearly tipped me over.  She makes me think differently about things.”

“Holy Mary, Mother of
God.  “Have you hooked up?”

“Yeah?”  He poked a finger
in the liquid wax and let it coat his finger, burn a little.

“And?”

He grinned.  He put the
candle down.  “I’m not telling you about that.”

“You should see your
face.  I am so jealous.”

He cracked the wax off his
finger in two soft halves.  “How do I fix things?”

Toni considered.  She
stuck her finger in the wax too.  It was something they used to do as kids. 
Ant wondered if Toni did anything more adult with candle wax now.  He wondered
if Bree would, then laughed at himself, because if she did, there was a
possibility—remote and distant, but a possibility still—he might get to find
out. 

Toni cracked the wax off
her finger.  “It’ll need to be big.”

“How big?”

“Got any money?”

“Enough.  I took a salary
cut to take this job believe it or not.  I’m gambling on the idea I should be
able to earn more in the long run.  And I just bought Mim her first car.  I’m
about tapped out for play money.”

“Could you free up a lump
sum?”

He could max out a credit
card, he could take a loan, but he wasn’t a fan of debt, had long since made it
a rule to avoid it.  He might splash money around from time to time, but he
lived within his means.  “If I had to.”

“I’ve got an idea.”

Thirty minutes later, when
Ant left the restaurant with a piece of Banofi pie in a doggy bag, he had more
than an idea.  In the morning, he’d see Dan and try to work out how to make it
happen.  If anyone knew how to pull off a big gesture it was Dan.

·
      
 

“You seriously want me to
sell the Alfa?”  Dan sat on his board outside the line up and squinted at Ant
with a look that said everything Ant had tossed and turned about over night.

“I need a big gesture and
it’s the only way I can move fast enough, without putting myself in debt.”

“What if she doesn’t feel
that way about you, mate?”

“You did it for Alex.” 
Dan spent every cent of his savings trying to make things up to Alex after he
dumped her.  It’s what was inspiring Ant now.  He didn’t need Dan talking it
down.

“Yeah, and it could’ve
back fired.  It almost did.  Alex thought I was trying to buy her love.  It’s a
risky move.  You have to be prepared to lose, to walk away with nothing, and be
okay with that.  For you that means no car, no girl.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?  You love your
Alfa and you’re a basket case of a loser.”

“I’m getting more accustomed
to the unnatural state of looserdom.”

Dan slapped the water
lying across the front of his board and laughed. 

“I’m fucking glad you’re
amused.”

“I never thought I’d see
the day a chick felled you.  I’m relieved.”

“What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“I was always thought the
dutiful son would emerge from under the playboy exterior and you’d hook up with
someone to make the family happy.”

Ant closed his eyes and
tipped his face up to the sun.  Dan couldn’t know how on the money he was. 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.  One minute you’re warning me I’ll
need paddles to keep my heart going after she rips it out, the next you’ve got
me married off.  You were willing to toss the dice and gamble.  So am I.”