Chapter 6 #2
“Not for me,” she replied, trying not to let her dreary mood seep over onto other people.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gorim replied hastily. “Hey, I heard you were working with Breht?” He asked.
The fluttering in her chest beat its breathy wings swiftly at the mention of his name on another person's lips. Her cheeks felt a wave of warmth crash over them, which had nothing to do with the wine she’d already consumed. “Yes,” she replied, at a loss for words. “He told you as such?”
“Yeah,” he chatted, “I could feel his grin over the phone,” Gorim stated, “I spoke to him yesterday, and he couldn’t wait to tell me. Sounds like my boys real happy to be active again.”
“He’s helping me figure out things with the store, you know, bring it to the twenty-first century or, whatever business speech he actually used!
” Brierley enthused, and while she was over the moon that her business was being repaired, especially considering she’d spent most of the day working on new items for the store's relaunch. There was something exceptionally heartwarming about hearing that Breht was happy; when they’d first met that morning, he’d seemed harried.
Harassed by his constantly ringing phone.
“He said, jewellery, right?” He asked, looking at the light-catching paua necklace that clung to her throat.
“That’s right,” she replied, lifting the piece of glistening shell between her fingers. “We’re relaunching the store in a couple of days’ time, if you’re interested.”
“Get Breht to send the details, and I’ll be there,” he swore.
“There you are!” Tori said, entering the kitchen, and she leaned in close to her friend's ear, “Lover boy’s here,” she whispered, teasing her, and the intensity of heat in her cheeks magnified infinitely.
No sooner had Tori spoken than Breht entered the kitchen, being ushered along by an energetic Alluin.
Gorim held out a bottle of beer towards him, and he shook his head, “Can’t, driving,” he said, making an excuse and adding, “I won’t be staying long, I’ve got some serious paperwork to catch up on, just wanted to show my face is all. ”
Brierley felt her curiosity pique at his words.
What was he doing inside her store that was taking so long?
Was that paint on his shirt? She felt a nervous twist of anticipation gnawing in her gut, and she wanted to ask.
She was desperate too. But when he turned to look in her direction, his beaming smile excited her in other ways.
Ways that she craved to express, but found herself stymied for words, especially with their friends breathing down her neck.
Her heart pounded as he came up to stand close to her, digging in his suit pocket.
Jangling the keys in front of her, he expressed.
“Thank you for these,” he spoke with brightness. “And for trusting me.”
She held out her hand for them, and as he dropped them into her palm, his other large hand cupped hers. He curled her fingers around them. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on her, and she couldn’t stop herself from staring into his eyes.
Gorim placed his hand over his friend's shoulder, still holding the bottle of beer for him, waggling it temptingly, “Get a taxi home?” The larger orc suggested.
Breht raised his hand to silence his friend.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay and have a drink, but he hadn’t reported back to Dura yet today with progress.
His other accounts wouldn't be on hold just because he wanted to have some fun, despite Dura having given him time to pursue this adventure. Moreso, he was captivated by the stars sparkling in Brierley’s eyes, how she was looking up at him, still holding her keys out in her open hands.
Those amber hues could sweep him away for eternity, and he found the thought of drowning in them comforting.
Lamenting his friend for the distraction, he turned away.
Gorim, knowing when the battle was lost, opened the bottle and started drinking it himself. Putting both of them in his mouth at once and chugging from them together. Breht laughed and shook his head at his friend's old party trick and managed to get himself a soft drink.
“Have you had a good day?” Breht inquired.
“Busy,” Brierley replied, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face.
“Tell me about it!” He reclined on the worktop, pulling a wry face at the glass of cola he’d poured. He must have got a bad bottle; it tasted flat.
Misunderstanding his remark, Brierley told him about the translation of his designs and was enthused over how they came about on the real thing. She leaned forward, showing him the necklace that dangled at her collar.
Breht licked his top lip and tried to pretend he was marvelling at the piece of paua shell and not the temptation of her bared throat.
“It looks great,” he remarked, and it did. She’d done a stunning job of making the necklace shine. A feeling of pride in her work crashed over him; a certainty that she’d transform herself into a Jewellery Goddess. “Really great.”
His praise had her beaming until Tori ushered the pair of them into the conservatory, where the conversation was becoming more engaging.
Shifting from day-to-day pleasantries and turning to old high-school gossip of who had dated who, when and how long for.
If they were still together? “Didn’t you two date for a while?
” Someone asked, pointing between Alluin and Breht.
The two looked at one another and answered, “Yes,” after a heartbeat. Their shared confession was greeted by murmurs, laughs, and cooing noises. This was a pinch of gossip that hadn’t been heard in a while and was a poorly kept secret.
“What happened?” Asked another voice from the party.
“We dated a couple of times, and it was all right for a while,” Alluin started to explain, “But I’m just not that into big dicks,” he said with absolutely no sense of shame or concern for whom he was talking about.
Breht shrugged when eyes fell on him, “I’ve never had anyone else complain,” he retorted with well-practised wit.
Brierley caught Tori’s eye. Her friend sniggered at her. Brierley tried her best to silence her laugh by widening her eyes. Another voice pointed out, “Well, someone likes big dicks!”
Tori burst out laughing at Brierley’s sudden attempts at protest. Her lack of ability to find the right words. She couldn’t argue, but didn’t want to sound too eager, either! A conundrum for the ages! Instead, she sat blushing.
For his part, Breht just wanted to bundle her up. Hold her close. Protect her from the embarrassment she’d caused herself.
To her relief, the conversation moved on swiftly, and Brierley was content to listen or pitch in where she had something to add to the flow of conversation.
She had launched into a story about one of her experiences abroad with a cocktail waiter plying her and Tori with drinks during a girls’ weekend they’d had together.
Breht was hanging onto her every word when his phone rang.
That dreaded love song interrupted the conversation.
The cold stab of dread severed his spine, and he pulled it out, looking at the screen.
There she was, like an unlucky penny. Rosani. “Excuse me,” he said, getting to his feet and taking his leave. Her constant pestering, her interruptions and the push for an argument; he wanted no part of it any longer, and he was determined. It was time to put an end to this, properly.
Once he’d made his way outside into the summer air, he answered his screaming phone. Only to be greeted with another type of shriek. Rosani was going through the usual motions of their breakups with effortless ease.
“You bastard!” She shouted down at him, “I can’t fucking believe you! Leaving your tusk ring on the mantlepiece.”
So she’d found it. He could admit it had been a dick move on his part to leave his engagement ring, replacing the mug he’d left there previously. The last twist of the dagger in her heart before he left her and their shared life behind. “Rosani,” he said, trying to remain calm.