Chapter 4 #2
He could hear his friend laughing down the phone at him. “Briar? Hey, didn’t you use to have a crush on her?”
“Yeah. I do,” he hastened to correct himself, “Did.”
He’d been caught out! Gorim’s laughter increased in volume, and he had to move the receiver away from his ear until the other orcs’ raucous noise subsided. “What did she say when she saw you?”
“I think she was mostly pissed off, to be honest. I represent the company that brought her business rental. So, I can understand the anger. I’m expecting her to call sometime this afternoon so we can discuss the ideas I’ve had.”
“Only that reason?”
“I’m pretty sure Brierley is only interested in her business,” He replied tonelessly.
Attempting to ward off Gorim and his match-making skills.
It had been good to see Brierley again and, yes, he was excited to be working with her, but his focus was entirely on turning her profits around.
Besides, he figured she wouldn’t be interested.
She hadn’t been while at school, why would that change now?
"You never did have any self-confidence, mate, not after Rosani tore you apart."
Breht's throat tightened. Gorim was right, as always.
But it wasn't just Rosani—it was the pattern.
He'd spent years trying to be what she wanted, reshaping himself, proving his worth, and it was never enough.
Just like with Dura. Just like it had always been.
Every relationship, every achievement, every attempt to matter—they all followed the same trajectory.
He'd reach, she'd move the goalpost, and he'd fall short.
Rosani had simply been the most recent version of a wound that ran far deeper than any single woman.
"I'll let you know about the party," he relented. Giving his childhood friend the answer he wanted to hear, even if his intentions fell a little short.
“That’s my boy!” Gorim replied.
“I’d better go, got a few leads I need to follow up on. It’s been great chatting.” Breht said, concluding the phone call.
“Talk to you later, mate.”
He hung up on his friend and took a stroll along the promenade.
As he sauntered along, he popped into a few of the shops, solidifying his ideas.
Taking measure of their wares so that his sales pitch for Brierley was foolproof.
He had seen the love she held for her business in the way she had clutched onto a pair of earrings.
In the way that she had become defensive towards intrusion.
Her reluctance to let him in. He’d have to be careful not to go too far and push her in a direction she didn’t want to go.
Turning Ohpaua around had become more than just laying down the gauntlet to his Ma, but something much more personal upon knowing the owner.
When his stomach growled, he found a beachside cafe by the sea.
The American-style diner was somewhere he visited on a regular occasion during his youth.
The interior was decorated with black and white checkered tiles and red leather seating, bringing forth discussions of the American dream alongside aspirations of teenagers eager to leave their quaint lives behind.
How life so quickly changed when you wore rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia!
A waitress brought him a cheap, greasy burger and a basket of chips.
It was the perfect accompaniment to being transported back to a ‘better time’ in his younger years of sharing cheesy chips by the harbour wall while seagulls screamed overhead, demanding their due.
Just as he took his second, glorious mouthful of falling-apart burger, his phone rang. Most of his meal escaped from the slippery bun as he tried to put it down, looking at the screen displaying an unknown number. His thick brows knitted, and he answered with a crisp, “Breht Merloft speaking.”
All he could hear was the sound of sobbing. He pulled the phone away from his ear and pushed the food away. The wonderful taste of cheap food turned to a ghastly pulp in his mouth. As dry and unpalatable as the looming conversation.
“Are you there, Breht?” He heard the distant voice through the receiver.
“I’m here,” he replied. His throat tightened, the words straining as he spoke, and he lowered his head into his hand as he listened to the soft breathing from the other end of the phone.
“Where are you? I miss you.”
“I’m away on business. I’m working,” how desperately he wanted to hang up, end the call and focus on the path ahead.
The pleading in her voice kept him hanging on the line.
The desperation for him to return to a life that he couldn’t cope with.
“I can’t do this anymore, Ros.” How many times had those words come out of his mouth? Those exact same ones.
“When are you coming home?” Her tone rapidly changed. The wracking sobs stopped in an instant. She was pushing him. Trying to take control where heart-wrenching tears wouldn’t work.
“I…” He started. He sought to clear his throat so that she could understand his direct meaning.
“I’m not.” Before she had the chance to reply, he hung up on her.
Cutting the conversation short before it truly started.
The longer they continued to speak, the more chance they had of hurtling headlong into another argument.
No sooner had he placed his phone down on the table than it started ringing again.
His life would be infinitely more peaceful if he ignored it, that much was certain.
The number on display wasn’t withheld, but one that wasn’t saved in his contacts list. Cautiously, as though it might bite him, he picked up the phone and answered with a flick of his thumb.
He wouldn’t put it past Rosani to change her number just so that she could sink her claws into him, and he held his breath, waiting for the caller to speak first.
“Hello?”
The tension in his shoulders evaporated in an instant as the light, poetic voice of a dreamer called out to him.
“Hi,” he replied. The rapid change in emotions was jarring, and he sat up straighter in his chair.
“It’s Brierley, from Ohpaua.”
As if he didn’t know. Didn’t recognise the voice speaking to him on the phone. “It’s good to hear your voice,” he replied. Then, visibly cringing, such a thing was too intimate to say to a potential business colleague. “I mean that in an I am glad you called way.”
He could hear a soft laugh from the other end of the line. So much for calm, confident professionalism.
“I’ve decided to take you up on your offer, Mr Merloft. I could use an intervention.”
The choice of words made her sound desperate for someone to save her. Determination set in his expression; all pretence of doing this for Dura and his position within Merloft evaporated in an instant. He was doing this for one person alone. Brierley.
“That’s great!” He replied.“I’ve had a few ideas already on what we could do…”
“I have a couple of conditions, though.”
“Sure,” He paused, the wind knocked from his sails. It was only to be expected that there were elements of her store that she wanted to cling to. The parts that were the beating heart and soul of her store, “Care to tell me?”
“I was hoping we’d be able to discuss it in person. I don’t really like telephone conversations. I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to call ever since you left.”
Breht grinned behind his tusked maw. “That would be fantastic. It’ll help, actually. Can you meet me by the waterfront? You know the green?”
“Of course, I do, Mr Merloft.”
“Call me Breht,” he suggested. Being addressed so formally pressed an awkward feeling upon him.
He’d known Brierley for some years, even though they had fallen out of touch for a part of that time.
Considering they would be working closely together over the next couple of days, being addressed in such a manner each time would only exacerbate things.
“Okay, Breht,” she was testing the sound of his name on her tongue. “When?”
He’d be the first to admit he liked the way his name sounded coming from her lips.
Usually, he was addressed with the human version that did little to complement his orcish heritage.
Her lilting voice captured the unusual pronunciation, emphasising it.
Something about hearing it from her made it feel entirely different.
“Can you get someone to cover the shop in the morning?” He asked, trying to push his thoughts away, temporarily. “I need to solidify my ideas this afternoon, so I have something to show you.”
“I’ll close for the day,” she confirmed.
“Great, I’ll see you then.” He heard her saying a cheerful goodbye and wordlessly brought the call to a close. He pulled the cheap meal back towards him. Although it had gone cold, he took a bite, and it tasted so much better than he had expected.