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“Are you for real? You come in here for no good reason, shut the door, complain about me using your given name and want to know why I hate you. I don’t hate you. But I might start if you don’t leave me alone.”
“You really don’t hate me?”
“Ant.” She said it very deliberately. “This job is exhausting. I don’t have any energy left over to summon hate for anything other than olives and anchovies.”
He grinned. “You hate olives? They’re like chocolate in my family.”
“Well, there we go. I must hate you because you like olives and I think they should be wiped from the face of the earth.”
Ha, he hadn’t realised how funny Bree was. “You really hate olives?”
“I’d really like you to go.”
“Can’t do that. Haven’t had my moment. You truly find this job exhausting?”
“No, I find I can do it half asleep and skating backwards while knitting a jumper and whistling Sadie the Cleaning Lady. Yes, I find it exhausting. Now moment over,” she pointed to the corridor. “Get out.”
Jesus, she was funny. Funny beat icy and got to drink a beer with the boys afterwards. The moment was definitely not over. “I find it exhausting too. I’m going to have to give up my morning surf altogether. I need more time to get across it all.”
“You find it exhausting?” Bree’s eyes did a bug out thing.
“Shit yeah.” It was hard to tell which one of them was more surprised by what he’d admitted.
She got it together, freak wave quick. “Okay—I’m calling that the moment.” She did the pointing thing again. “Get out.”
No chance. “I have to ask you a question, Bree and you’re not going to like it, but since you don’t hate me, and I’m not about to force feed you olives, I hope you’ll answer.”
“You do know you’ve pretty much guaranteed I’m not going to answer any question you ask me?”
“Why?” He thought he’d done good at smoothing the rough seas. “I thought we were getting on.”
“Just because this is the longest non-work conversation we’ve had in a year does not mean we’re getting on.”
“Ah Bree, you’re a fucking snob.” And a bitch, but he was smart enough not to add that. Though not smart enough not to have caused the expression on her face; pinched like she was constipated. Now she hated him.
“And you’re an arrogant, self important, entitled, hyper-competitive, walking bag of pissed off, who can’t accept a woman beat him to the job he wanted.”
He stood so quickly, his thigh knocked against the table and sent a pile of her paper sailing off the edge. This angry she didn’t seem so small, as though her fury gave her height and width. But not enough to hold him down.
“I need to know about the bruise I saw on your shoulder. Is someone hurting you?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Answer the question, Bree.”
She leaned across the table. She pushed up against it and shoved it into his legs. She got as near to him as the geography of the room, its glass wall and its furniture would allow. “Fuck off, you pompous prick.”
It was hard to imagine anyone getting close enough to bruise this bitch of a woman. He no longer cared if anyone had. He opened the door. “Right then, we know where we stand.”
He left the room like she wanted. The moment was so over.
·
Ant could hear Jeff whining behind the door. What was taking Dan so long? The Valiant was parked behind the Kombi, and the garage door was closed which meant the Mustang was inside. Dan wouldn’t go for a walk without Jeff and he knew Ant was coming. He pounded again and called out.
That moment with Bree had worked on him like sunburn. He hadn’t even noticed it at first. But then it started to itch a little, especially the part about being arrogant, entitled and self-righteous. Then the sting started in when he thought about how she’d called him a walking bag of pissed off. By the time he left the office he was stiff with the knowledge he’d actually considered it might be her fault if someone hurt her and he’d thought that was okay. Now he was pretty sure her explosion of anger was a defensive response. He’d made her feel trapped, then he’d surprised her. He was a prize fuckwit. He felt like he had blisters of disgust all over him. He needed Dan to help pop them and peel all the dead skin of his foul lack of grace, consideration and arrogance away.
By the time he heard Dan in the hall, he felt like stripping off his suit and presenting himself already naked for the flogging he knew he deserved. He made do with taking his suit coat and tie off.
