Jeremiah was lingering, obviously waiting for her response. She glanced at the café, and saw Christine setting up a display of baked goods. Sean was wiping down tables. Adrienne was nowhere to be seen.
Bridget kept her voice low, so that only Jeremiah could hear her. “I’m sorry, but she’s on my staff. I’m her manager. I can’t just ignore it. I’m not saying it was wrong, Jeremiah. Sometimes, these work relationships happen. It can’t be helped. But the Glitter Cup Café and Bookstore policy is very clear—if a relationship develops, it’s got to be documented.”
This seemed to make his nervousness worse. He kept adjusting the messenger bag he wore over his shoulder, fiddling with the strap at the point where it touched the lapel of his Jacket. “But we don’t know each other that well. She’s not my girlfriend. There’s nothing to document.”
“You know her well enough to kiss her,” Bridget pointed out.
“That was the first time. We’ve flirted for years. But it’s not a relationship...” There was more he wanted to say, but he wasn’t allowing himself. Bridget could tell by the redness that was developing on his pale, puffy cheeks.
“Do you want a relationship with her?” Bridget asked carefully.
“Of course I do!” Jeremiah blurted out. There we go. That was what he wanted to say, thought Bridget.
Jeremiah glanced toward the café, then lowered his voice and said. “She’s hot! And really nice to talk to. But I’m sure she doesn’t want anything to do with me...”
Bridget kept her voice low, too. “Jeremiah, she likes you. You two actually have a lot in common.”
“But she’s got a kid,” he said. “I can’t be a father... “
“How do you know?” Bridget asked. “Have you ever tried?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “I’ve actually been working on growing up a little bit myself this past year. I didn’t even buy ComicCon tickets. And I’m going to move out of my mother’s basement.”
“That’s great!” Bridget said, trying to sound encouraging. “Jeremiah, I think if you asked her out on a date, she’d say yes. I don’t know for sure, but that’s my impression. But first, let’s just fill out the form from HR, okay? It’s not a big deal. It’s just a piece of paper that saves the company from legal messiness down the road—not that it would ever come to that.” She spoke quickly; she wanted to wrap up this little relationship counseling session as quickly as possible.
For one thing, she was eager to get to work on her own problem—figuring out who was blackmailing her father. And for another, she didn’t feel qualified to give relationship advice. It made her uncomfortable. Who was she to counsel another about love? She hadn’t had a serious relationship since college, and even then, it was based only on superficial convenience. Since then, she’d been on dates, but nothing ever really felt right. I’m the last person who should be telling another about something as mysterious and elusive as love, she thought.
“You really think so?” Jeremiah asked. His eyes became brighter. “If I ask her out, you’re saying she’d say yes?”
Bridget nodded.
“Well, Jiminy Cricket!” he exclaimed. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get that paperwork filled out. Print it up and let me know where to sign.”
His complete turnaround in mood made Bridget smile. “Give me until the end of the day, okay?” she said. “I have a few other things I’m dealing with.”
“You know what? I’ll print them off myself,” he said, before turning and walking away with a bounce in his step.
Bridget’s apprehension grew as she neared Sean and Christine.
Was one of them the blackmailer?
“Morning, Bridget!” Christine chirped. “The St. Patrick’s Day decorations should be here today!”
Bridget faked a smile. She looked over at Sean, who was pouring chocolate sauce into a waiting pump bottle. He finished his task and looked up. “Morning, boss!” he said cheerfully.
Bridget felt slightly queasy. The idea that Sean might act one way towards her and another altogether when she was not around was quite disturbing.
“Good morning, Sean,” Bridget said as she stepped back behind the counter. How am I going to question him? she wondered. For the next hour, she worked on some managerial tasks while keeping a careful eye on Sean the entire time. At eight, she saw her opportunity. “I’ve gotta go grab some clean dishes,” he said. “I’m out of milk pitchers.” He headed to the backroom.
Bridget waited a minute or two, and then followed him.
When she stepped into the back room, she saw Sean. His phone was out, and he was looking at the screen with intensity. His brow was furrowed, his jaw tense. Something on his phone was upsetting him.
As soon as Bridget stepped into the space, he quickly set his phone down on the countertop and opened the dishwasher. He grabbed two silver milk pitchers in one hand, and one in the other. “Hey, do we have any spare thermometers?” he asked. “I swear, the one out there isn’t calibrating right. It’s been broken for about a week now.”
Bridget sensed he was fabricating the problem to deflect from the fact that she’d just caught him using his phone during his shift.
“I’ll look into it,” she said. Then, “Adrienne was telling me that you were out front with Christine on the morning that my dad’s folder went missing,” she said, trying to sound kind and casual.
“Oh, yeah, I think so. Why? Is it still missing?”
He wore a goldenrod yellow cardigan over his apron and uniform shirt. Staff members were allowed to wear light outerwear during a shift, as long as their name tag was visible. The sweater looked vintage. It had leather patches at the elbows, and large wooden buttons. His hair was up in a bun on top of his head. His goatee and mustache topped off his hipster appearance.
“Yeah, still missing,” Bridget said.
“That is so strange!” Sean exclaimed. Now that she was looking for it, she could actually detect the falsity in his tone. Was anything he’d ever said to her genuine? “What a bummer. Darn.” he went on.
“Yeah, it really is a bummer,” she said. “So, were you out front on that morning, like Adrienne said? I’m just trying to get a feel for how things were going around here that morning. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” he said. “Of course you’ve gotta try to put the pieces together. Your poor dad. Man... that really sucks.” He shook his head. “Really. A bummer. Sure, I was out front. Adrienne usually comes back here. I don’t know if she’s trying to get out of the hardest duties or what. You know, she doesn’t like working that hard. I get it. If you’re not a morning person, getting here at 6:00 and starting right in can be tough.”
I didn’t ask about Adrienne, I asked about you, thought Bridget. She pinched her lips closed.
“Do you remember seeing the manilla folder on one of the tables?” she asked.
“Oh... yeah, sure, I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Bridget wondered which answer was truthful—if any. Yeah, I think so, maybe, or I don’t know. They all expressed different things. She wanted to ask him to clarify, but before she could, he said, “I was so totally wrapped up in what I was doing. I guess I didn’t really look that closely.”