AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He shrugs again like his meaning should be obvious. "I was right."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time, Bash. I mean, what were you rightabout?Be more specific."
"That your job is crap, and you deserve a lot better."
I swallow, trying to hold back the annoyance I suddenly feel. "Really? When did you say that, Bash?"
"I implied it. When you first came to Barton Beach in May, we talked about you taking away Sugar Breeze. I told you not to take it from her. I didn't like what you were doing to her and other perfectly nice businesspeople, and I told you as much. And now, I hope you've learned your lesson."
"What lesson? I didn't take her bakery away, and you know that. Well… not directly, at least."
"Indirectly or directly, it doesn't really matter. The result is the same. She has nothing, and you have everything, and yet you're miserable." Putting a finger to his temple, he says, "That's your conscience speaking. Telling you that you fucked up."
"Look, Bash, I didn't come here for a lecture," I say, really annoyed now.
"I can't just sit by and watch when you're this torn up," he insists earnestly.
"Well, I'd probably be happier if you'd bring that bottle back."
"It's like I told you at your party, Brett. It just doesn't seem like your heart is in this anymore. You picked a dream when you were a kid and spent your whole life with blinders on, focused only on that one thing. And in the meantime, you're letting the best things about the world pass you by. In the end, well… your heart belongs to something else. Something more important."
Like Denise.
This isn't the first time we've had a conversation like this. I open my mouth to say all my usual refutations, to prove him wrong with all my facts and statistics. But, once again, I find myself running on empty.
Maybe it's the fact that I'm emotionally spent. Maybe it's the booze that's been running through my system for who knows how many days on end. Or maybe it's simply the sweet cat purring against me. Every defense of what I've done just sounds hollow to me now. There's no point in arguing a dead debate.
To his surprise, I say, "You know what? You're right, Bash. I have lost something more important than all that."
The cat presses her head against my chest, and I scratch her behind her ears, watching Bash's reaction. He putters for a moment like an old engine out of gas, struggling to cope with the fact that I've just agreed with him. He's finally done it. He's won an argument. And for a moment, the two of us can do nothing more than stare at each other, unsure of what happens next in such an unfamiliar situation.
Finally, he clears his throat. "So," he says slowly, "what are you going to do about it?"
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"To fix all this." He juts out his chin and opens his eyes wide, like what he's suggesting should be obvious to me.
I sigh. "There's nothing Icando. Denise broke it off. She wants her distance. Maybe in a year or so, I can—"
"No, no, no." Bash groans, waving my words away in utter disgust. "You moron. It's obvious! You've been putting yourself and your career first for a while now. Denise needs to know that you can put her first. Without question."
"When did you become such an expert on women?"
He straightens his posture. "I live my life exactly how I please. And that's all I want for you. You love this girl. You've always wanted a woman in your life, a partner. She's everything you've ever wanted. Now you've got to do the same for her."
I sit up, and Jackie leaps from my chest and scampers away. The time for self-pity is over. Now, I'm in business mode.
"What would it even be, Bash? It's not like a call would be enough to—"
"No, stupid, don't you dare do this over a phone call," Bash says, that look of disgust back on his face. And though I know he's just playing, on some level, I can feel myself getting annoyed again.
"Alright, smartass. What'syourplan?"
"You remember that game I played against the Cubs back in the day?" he asks me, his expression splitting into a nostalgic grin. "Johnny was out of the count for the rest of the game—he was our star hitter, but he'd twisted his ankle tripping over home plate. We needed a Hail Mary, and that's when they decided to send me out. I was like, 'Coach, are you serious? There's no way I can turn this game around!' We were screwed!"
"Uh-huh."
"But then Coach says, 'Son, don't think about it. Thinkin' will only ever get you in trouble.' Coach was always full of wisdom."
