Page 28 of Wild Thing
“I wanted you tocomewith me. You chose not to.”
We held each other’s stare, neither one of us willing to back down and take responsibility for the heartbreak that crushed us both.
“Semantics," he said, brushing me off. "Anyway, I threw myself into work. I don’t think I had a day off in two years. I wasproject managing big jobs and making good connections. Three years ago, I had the opportunity to buy into the company, so that’s what I did. I made smart, future-proof decisions. Rest is history.”
“I’m really happy for you," I said giving him a wide grin. "So why are you in the city? Are you expanding?”
Brax shook his head. “One of my long term clients is located here. There is a new project they want me on.”
Brax went on to describe the journey from apprentice to owner, and I had to admit, I was inspired. He had always been an extremely dedicated worker and the way he wove his story had me entranced. He spoke with so much passion. Not many people had a genuine love for what they did for a living, but Brax was the exception. I wanted to keep the conversation on him, desperate to learn as much as I could about his life.
But he wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily.
“So how did you land a job in White Point when you were on the other side of the world?”
“Pure talent.”
“Obviously.”
We exchanged sly smiles at each other. The flirting between us came so easily.
“I got lucky," I admitted, finally. "Marie, the CEO of Gellar and Summers, headhunted me from the firm I was working at in London. She has some sort of arrangement with the directors over there. I sent her my portfolio, had several interviews online and a job offer followed not long after. I moved to White Point and have been there ever since.”
Something like pride reflected in Brax’s eyes as he said, “I always knew you’d make it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because when you want something, you usually stop at nothing to get it.”
I gave him a lopsided smile. “True.”
“Tell me more about your travels.”
I could feel my body hum alive when I began to reminisce about my European adventures. His eyes lit up bright when I told him about all of the breathtaking places I’d seen, how inspired travel had made me and how I felt like I'd truly lived life to the fullest when I was there.
I thought of Zack briefly.
He had never once asked me about my time in Europe. It was almost like he didn't care at all.
“Do you still draw?” Brax asked.
The question caught me by surprise. I was shocked he remembered, but then again, I used to draw all the time. I would sketch scenery, plant life, anything that I felt drawn to really.
“Not as much as I would like to. I mean, I create sketches for client designs, but I haven’t beendrawing, drawing,” I replied honestly. My voice dropped lower. “You know, like the ones I used to do for you.”
Brax's eyes gleaned. Almost like his memory was replaying the artwork I'd created for him. I’d leave sketches in his gym backpack, under his windscreen wiper, in his bed.
Sometimes they were drawings of him doing things he loved, like surfing, or sometimes they were of my tits for a laugh.
Often though, it was just the two of us. I’d sketch snapshots of what our future might be like… living in a mountain cabin, or embracing out the front of a beach shack. It was the only time I’d ever allowed myself to think that far ahead.
I wondered if he had kept any of them.
I didn’t ask. The answer might hurt too much.
“Why not?”
“In order to create, you need to be inspired and the honest truth is that it's been a long time since I’ve been inspired… and I’m not nearly drunk enough to go into that Brax.”
