Just Brett

There really is nothing worse than waiting for someone else to do their job. Just do it, already! All you have to do is open your email, read my message, and respond. If I could jump through wifi-land and do this for him, I would. The thing is, though, I don’t know this guy. He is the new manager of the paint shop at the car dealership my dad owns. The dealership that not only has my last name on the building, but the one that my family has owned for almost 50 years now. It’s no secret that it’ll be my dealership one day but my dad and his humble-self is making me work my way to the top. I started off just cleaning the showroom floor when I was in middle school. I was only allowed to sweep and very lightly dust the showroom cars. Not the fancy cars though, mostly the sedans and small trucks. Then I started answering phones after school and on the weekends during high school. I learned the day-to-day aspects of selling cars and I also got to watch the flow of the dealership and took several mental notes. I spent my college years interning in the various departments. Accounting, sales, human resources, service, paint shop and even the carwash. I finally graduated from college with a business degree last May and was just put in charge of accounts payable. Anything that has to do with accounting is definitely not my first choice when it comes to my career but my dad says this is the most important department of the business. My issue with this new paint shop manager is that he doesn’t check his emails! He told my dad at his interview that he only checks work emails three times a day because he wants to focus on his art. Painting cars. I know it’s art, I get it. But come on, Brett Bryson, CHECK YOUR EMAIL.

I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Brett in person yet. I was not at the interview and he was hired immediately. I am still figuring out why? My dad said he was exactly what the paint shop needs and felt comfortable with him starting as soon as possible. My dad is a thinker so I was surprised by this spontaneous hire. I mean it took me months to convince him to let me greet people in the showroom. He was said I needed better bedside manner, like I’m a doctor or something. Brett Bryson has yet to fill out his on-boarding forms and hasn’t even turned in his bank account info so we can directly pay him. I’m giving him until 4:45PM before I march up the parking lot to the paint shop myself. The paint and body shop is like it’s own little island. As much as I do sometimes envy their distance from the showroom, I’m not sure I’d want to be in the paint shop all day. It stinks, it’s loud and it’s busy. I honestly don’t know what time they start, when they take breaks or when they go home. But I do know they paint a ton of cars every year. We are the number one paint and body shop of all Chevy dealers in the state. Brett Bryson better not mess that up for us.

I spent the day working on bills and reorganizing my spreadsheet for employees. Some are full time, some are part-time, and some are super part-time, only working on the weekends. The sales guys obviously get paid commission so it’s different every cycle. We pay everyone bi-weekly and it’s almost time for the next payday so Brett Bryson better respond soon. He needs to send me his paperwork or he’s not going to get paid. About the time I start telling myself that his lack of respect for the woman paying him is absolutely not worth stressing over…I hear a knock at my door. No one ever knocks. We have glass windows surrounding a glass door and we can all see each other. All. Day. The only reason why I even close my door is because of the different sounds and conversations and smells that make their way ever so lightly into my tiny little space. I like working to my own music choices and honestly, sometimes, just in complete silence. I’m also pretty terrible at small talk.

“Come in” I say, not really even looking up. “What? It’s almost 5.”

“Ummm, hey, I’m Brett Bryson” he says, as I finally reach his eyes.

“Oh. Yeah. Brett Bryson. I’ve been waiting on you all day. I need your bank account info and for you to finish,” I had to look away because his appearance was completely unexpected.

“I finished everything and have my account info for you right here, Ms. Elliott,” he said, confidently.

“Emily,” I say, suddenly feeling a little hot. “You can call me Emily. Brett Bryson.”

“Well, Emily,” he smiled. “It is so nice to finally meet you, and I’m sorry for the delay. I was trying to get ahead on some cars before leaving tonight.’

“Leaving already?” I asked, surprised by my desire for him to stay much longer.

Brett Bryson smiled and said “Leaving just to go home. I’ll be back tomorrow morning by 8am.”

“Great!” I said a little too excitedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow Brett Bryson.”

Brett smiled and turned to leave. He was tall with broad shoulders and perfect biceps. His hair was dark and recently cut. He had the absolute best scruffy bread. Not too long, not too short. He spoke with professionalism but had a bad boy side too. I realized my jaw was hanging a little too late. “Emily…” he laughed.

“Yes, sorry, I’m just ready to go home,” I lied.

“Are you always going to call me Brett Bryson? Just Brett is fine,” he winked.

I thought for a second not realizing I kept calling him by both his first and last name.

“Oh I’m sorry! I’ve been staring at your name all day and didn’t really realize but honestly, there’s no way you’re ‘just Brett’. I bet you’re so much more…” I stopped myself and put my hand over my own mouth, realizing I just spoke my thoughts.

Brett Bryson started laughing and a hint of red formed on his cheeks. I found some relief in knowing my unplanned flirty comment caused a reaction from him, but I was still utterly embarrassed. An office romance with the new paint shop manager is absolutely out of the question and also a human resources nightmare. Plus, I’m the boss’s daughter! No, no, no, Emily Elliott. You can not.

“I’m not sure what I expected when taking this job, but this isn’t what I signed up for…” Brett Bryson said, raising his eyebrows at me.

Oh no. I’ve ruined it already. I’m going to have to explain to my dad why the new manager he just hired is suddenly quitting; because of my inappropriate gibberish. This is the bad bedside manner he always talks about.

“No, I am so sorry, I don’t know what just happened. Please let me fix this,” I stood up and looked him in the eye, trying to keep my composure. “We are the best car dealership in all of North Carolina. My dad and our family name are respected by dealers all over the country. Please don’t let my awkwardness ruin this.”

Brett Bryson turned and took a step closer to me and reached towards my hand. I grabbed his without leaving his intense stare, trying to ignore the soft yet tough feel of his skin.

“I’m kidding, Emily,” he laughed. “if seeing you everyday is part of what I signed up for, then I’m in for some beautiful days ahead. See you in the morning…”