Free Too Close to Touch by Georgia Beers Page B

assistant’s gay.”
    “This Kylie you mentioned?”
    “That’s the one.”
    • 63 •
    GEORGIA BEERS
    “Is she good-looking?”
    “Extremely.” Gretchen grinned at how true the statement was.
    “I say go for it.”
    “Yeah, right. I’m her boss, J.”
    “I notice you didn’t say she’s not your type, or ‘No way, she doesn’t interest me.’”
    Gretchen let her silence speak for itself.
    “Oh, come on, Gretch.” Her brother lowered his voice, conspiring playfully. “A little clandestine interofÞ ce affair? Might be just what you need. Rock your buttoned-up little world a bit.”
    “Excuse me, but I am not buttoned-up. And my world doesn’t need any rocking, thank you very much. I certainly don’t need to get involved with anybody at work.”
    “Okay, okay. Just a suggestion.”
    Gretchen changed the subject. “How’s Dad?”
    “He’s good. Busy. You know him—golf, board meetings, and poker. You should give him a call.”
    “He could call me.” The retort was out before Gretchen could catch it, her bitterness coating the words like a powder. “I’ve been here for almost a month.”
    “I know.”
    Gretchen’s relationship with her father was an old sore spot, and J.J. had been the buffer for years. He was used to it and knew where conversations like this one were going.
    “I don’t know why I give a damn,” Gretchen said.
    “Because you love him and you’re a good person,” J.J. said. “You know, he’s really proud of you. Just last week, he was telling his poker buddies about your big, fancy new job and how Emerson chased after you and offered you gobs of money to come and work for them…what a big decision it was for you. He always tells people that stuff.”
    “Would it kill him to tell me once in a while?” Gretchen could hear the hurt and anger in her voice. The discussion was ancient, and the thought of going around and around the same old track one more time made her tired. “I’ll never understand it, J.”
    “Maybe you’re not supposed to understand it. Maybe it just is .”
    After a beat, Gretchen said, “What is that, your version of dime-store therapy?”
    J.J. laughed heartily, a sound Gretchen had always loved. “Hey, my therapy is worth way more than a dime, missy.”
    • 64 •
    TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH
    “If you say so.”
    “Before I let you go, Lex wants to say hi.”
    Gretchen rolled her eyes and grimaced. Lex was her two-year-old niece. She was not at all adept at talking on the phone and attempts at conversations were usually exercises in futility, but the fact that she wanted to talk to “Aunt Getch” warmed Gretchen’s heart in inexplicable ways.
    Gretchen uh-huh’ed and oh-my’ed her way through three minutes that felt like twenty of indecipherable conversation with the little sweetheart before J.J. mercifully took the phone back.
    “Did you get all that?” he asked with a chuckle.
    “I don’t think I got any of it,” she responded gleefully. “But she certainly went on and on, just like a little boy I used to know way back when.”
    “She’s learning new words all the time. She said ‘fuck’ the other day. Jenna almost killed me.”
    Gretchen burst out laughing, remembering the Þ rst time she taught her little brother to swear.
    “All right, big sis. I’ve had enough of you.” It was his standard closing line and it always Þ lled her with love for him. “When are you coming home for a visit?”
    “I actually have a couple of old boxes to pick up from Dad’s basement, so I do need to make a road trip.”
    “And you want to see your nieces and nephew.”
    “And I want to see my nieces and nephew. I’ve got budget numbers due next week and then I’m going to need to sleep for days. Maybe the second or third weekend in June?”
    “Let us know. Jenna will be thrilled.”
    They signed off and Gretchen hung up, a smile still clinging to her lips. Her brother was a good man, the glue that had held their family together after their