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“I did not,” I reply. “Todd and Brynne were only ever just friends.”
She immediately reverts to her giddy self.
“Then I’ll go!” she says.
“We have to ask him first. He works at Zuma Jay’s.”
“Zuma Jay? I know where that is,” she says.
“You know, I was just going to call him,” I begin.
“What’s his name?” she asks quickly.
“Todd,” I say, fascinated by the transformation of my otherwise savvy and efficient receptionist.
“Todd,” she says dreamily.
“But if you want to go, ask him yourself,” I say. “You can even leave work to do so.”
“Well then, I am going to do so right now,” she says triumphantly. She grabs her purse and shuts down her workstation.
“Ahem,” I say, and she freezes. “We are not closed for business. Please forward the calls to me so I can pretend to be you until you return. And wait a sec – I need to ask you something else before you go.”
“I have a question,” I say, wallowing in heartbreak. “Just five minutes,” I beg. “So, it didn’t go well with Brynne today in court.”
“We didn’t think it would,” Gretchen replies. “Let me guess. You want it to be going well again,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say.
“So, talk to Brynne and tell her that,” Gretchen says practically. “There will be more Calypso Inns in her future with you. Besides all the superficial things you have going for you, you’re a nice man.”
“Don’t let that get out, Gretchen,” I say. “That will be bad for business. You just got a raise.”
“Ha, ha,” she says. “But don’t talk to her until I get back. I’ll tell you exactly what to say. Can I go now?”
“Yeah. You can even take my car,” I say, pitching her my keys. “Nick says Todd wanted to drive it. Tell him he can.”
“For reals?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. “You know, I was in awe of how remarkably intelligent you are - until you use words like ‘for reals.’ How old are you?”
I forward the invite to everyone in the office. Once I get Brody’s reply about whether he wants to go, I take a gamble and RSVP yes to Adrianne. It chafes me that she has come up with a reason for us to communicate when I just talked with her about backing off.
“Will a number do, or do you need names?” I ask.
“Will your girlfriend still want to join us since she didn’t do so well in court?” she gloats.
“I’ll have my assistant manage the RSVP after all,” I say. “So, if I don’t go, no one goes?”
“Something like that,” she says.
She played me. This all hinges on whether or not I can convince Brynne to be my date – something I am no longer sure she will be willing to do.
I was deep into work when I realized that Gretchen should be back by now. Sure, she’s a grown woman, but she’s also only in her early twenties. Things can happen. Maybe she crashed the Porsche, and she is in a morgue somewhere. Perhaps she was carjacked and is being held against her will.
The possibilities scare the crap out of me. I’m not old enough to be her dad, but I am old enough to feel responsible for her. Just as I am about to call her phone to see if she answers, I hear voices in the reception area, and I leave my office to see who is there.
I see Gretchen and, standing beside her, Todd. And then I see Brynne behind them both.
