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

her arms and he had to ask, even if he
wasn’t the first.  Even if it upped her frost quotient towards him.
    And that’s what made this
so much harder.  Bree already gave off intense dislike.  Not that she was
overly friendly with anyone on the team, except Christine and that was a girl’s
club thing, and the competitive nature of the office ensured they were all
rivals before they were friends, but still, if there was anyone she avoided more,
it was him.  And if her reaction to him coming in early wasn’t enough of a tip-off
then there was the never sitting beside him at team meetings, going so far as
standing instead of taking the last seat near him, never accepting his group
invitations to lunch or Friday night drinks, and rarely if ever making eye
contact.  No wonder he’d figured her for a snob and a bitch and stopped trying
to engage her.  As far as he was aware, the only thing he’d done to make her
eyes shoot icicles of hatred at him was exist. 
    Ordinarily he couldn’t
care less about something like that, but since his epiphany in the shape of a
girl who likes girls, he did care.  Because post the fiasco with Toni, he
wasn’t sure he hadn’t missed something important about Bree and how she reacted
to him, and that made him even less sure how to approach this.
    For all of five seconds,
he thought about going around the problem and talking to Christine.  It was
likely she’d know, and if she did, and it turned out Bree was the worlds most
clumsy person, then this whole thing was done with.  He could stop worrying
about it.  But if Chris didn’t know, and he raised it with her, and it turned
out Bree dressed the way she did, trousers and long sleeves on days when all
the other women wore lighter summer clothes, because she was hiding something
terrible, then he was making things worse for her by dragging more people into
it. 
    He had to think like Bree
was a monster wave, face her, take it to her, paddle like mad and then get the friggin’
hell out of there if things got too hairy before he got pummelled to pieces.
    It took him all day to get
his approach right.  And even then the water was choppy.  Bree was in one of
the client meeting rooms using the table to compile a report that must’ve got
screwed up by the photocopier.  He watched her go in.  He knew that room only
had one glass wall facing a little used corridor and a door that closed.  It
was perfect for a private conversation.  He went in and shut the door behind
him and it was only then he realised it was also perfect for making someone
feel cornered.
    Bree’s, “What do you
want?” was so sharp it could snap a leg rope.
    “I, ah.  Wanted a moment
with you.”
    “A moment?”  Ant could
almost believe it was possible to catch frostbite from words alone.
    “Yeah, I wanted to ask you
something.”
    “I’m sure the door could
be open while we have the moment.”
    “Yeah, but it’d be better
if it wasn’t.”
    “Open the door, Anthony,
you’re making me uncomfortable.”
    “Why do you call me
Anthony?  Not even my Nonna calls me that.”
    “Is that what you came in
here for?  I’m happy to call you Santa Claus if you’ll go.”
    He sat and she said,
“Don’t,” so he stood, but he towered over her, she was only a little thing, so
he sat again and she said, “What’s going on?”
    “Why do you hate me so
much?”  That wasn’t the question he’d planned on asking but since he was
already in the water, he might as well get wet.
    “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