Desk Jockey Jam by Ainslie Paton Read Free Book Online Page A

hesitating?”
    “You don’t know this chick. 
She’s private, reserved.  She’s a snob.”
    “You think she’s beating
herself up?” said Fluke.  He got up on the railing without interference from
Dan.  It’d be so easy to tip him backwards onto the sand below.  Almost
deserved it for the stupid comment.  Ant took a step towards him and Fluke let
go his towel and grabbed the railing.  “I mean she says she walked into a door,
or fell down some stairs.”
    Ant stopped with both hand
on Fluke’s shoulders and gave him light shove, just enough to be threatening. 
“No, I don’t think she’s beating herself up.”  He let go of Fluke and stepped
back.  “And I don’t think she’s accident prone, has a rare medical condition,
or plays a contact sport.  This girl is no Toni, no Miss Behavin on skates.”
    “Well what?” said Dan.
    “Fluke might have a
point.  She might be covering for being slapped around.  She does have,” he
paused, looking for the right word, “attitude.”
    Dan came off the railing
and was in his face.  “Fuck, Ant.  I’ll do more than bruise you if you’re
suggesting she brings it on herself.”
    He turned away and grabbed
his towel.  “Keep your hair on, Dan.  That’s not what I’m saying.  She won’t
take kindly to me interfering.”
    “You’re not asking for her
full medical history.”
    “I’ve hardly had a dozen
conversations with her outside work stuff.”
    Dan went to object again,
but Mitch got in.  “Why’s it Ant’s problem?”
    “Thank you, Mitch.”
    Dan scowled at Mitch then
grabbed his board and stowed it in the Kombi.  “Explain to me how you’re going
to make this someone else’s problem and it’ll be the right thing to do.” 
    Ant handed his board
over.  All their boards lived in the Kombi during summer.  “I can’t be the only
person to have noticed.”
    Dan took Fluke’s board,
but instead of busying himself stacking it inside the Kombi, he focused his
baby blues on Ant.  The kind of sharp eyed focus that helped Dan change his
life.  “What?  You think there’s a first-in, first-response thing.  You think
there’s a pecking order for something like this, or a limit on the amount of
concern that can be shown?”
    Ant held Dan’s stare.  Dan
wasn’t the only one who’d had a tough childhood.  Ant’s wasn’t near as bad—not
one tenth as bad, but he’d had to grow up fast, had to leave school early, get
a crap job and study at night.  He was still catching up.  He was the only one
in the Petersen’s team without a blue chip, right university, right degree
pedigree.  The only one who’d got there sideways from sheer persistence.  Oh
sure, he looked the part, acted it so well it was who he was now, but scratch
the Italian wool surface of his life and you got a scrapper like Dan, which
meant he knew exactly what he had to do.
    “Ah shit.  I have to ask
her about it.”
    ·         
    Bree was at her desk, head
down and busy when Ant arrived in the office at his usual post surf time for the
first time in a good while.  She didn’t acknowledge him.  She’d not done more
than nod at him when she was leaving last night either.  And yet they’d shared
a laugh yesterday and an actual shared understanding moment.  At least that’s
what he’d thought.  Must’ve gotten that wrong.
    Lately he’d been skipping
the morning surf more often than he was making it to the beach to get a jump on
the work day, and even though the air con wasn’t firing, the reception from
Bree was usually frosty enough to keep him cool. 
    Without doing more than
giving him a weak smile and a bland good morning, with a side of ‘you’re early’,
that was more, ‘officer he did it’, Bree made it known he was spoiling her
peace.  So he hoped she was happy this morning because sometime today he’d be
invading more than her sense of early morning office ownership.  He couldn’t
pretend he hadn’t seen those bruises on