Call her ZADDY

Chapter 1 - Gabrielle wonders what she's so afraid of

              Gabrielle pushed open the heavy glass doors of Sunset Gallery, where upon entering, a blast of freezing cold air welcomed her inside and instantly chilled her sunburnt skin. Closing the massive doors behind her, she shivered before checking the hem of her dress to make sure it hadn't blown away in the freeze.

            Outside it was already at least 96 degrees but inside was a literal ice box. She could feel goosebumps rising along the hairs of her arms as she rubbed her hands together to warm up, making a note to bring a parka tomorrow. At the thought of next time, she grabbed her phone out of her bag to make sure she wasn't late. Thankfully, it was barely  9:00 a.m., which still gave her plenty of time to clock in.

Glancing up from her phone, Gabrielle  stopped to take in her surroundings for the day. For as many months as she'd worked here, she was still caught off guard by the opulence. The gallery was decorated floor to ceiling with twirling bronze dolphins, ornate glass tables, lucite figurines and nautical artwork, hung in baroque gold frames.

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        "Hey that's a beautiful dress," someone said.

Gabrielle looked up out of her haze to see her co-worker Johanna gazing out at her from behind a giant stack of surf magazines piled on the front desk.

         "Thanks," she replied, looking down.

         Across the room Johanna's smokey eyes penetrated down Gabrielle's long hair, past her short skirt, right down to her bare toes, which Gabrielle realized hadn't been manicured in months.

         "Wow it looks amazing on you."

Gabrielle balked out of instinct as her friend's eyes narrowed. Although both girls were the same height, and age, Gabrielle still felt intimidated in her presence.

      Attempting to change the subject, Gabrielle casually tossed her slouchy leather bag behind the front counter where it landed with an incriminating thump. At the sound , Johanna raised her perfectly manicured brows in suspicion. From there she zeroed in.

       "So, guess who asked about you?"

          Gabrielle put her sun glasses down on the front desk and tried not to appear too eager. "...I don't know who?"

          "Just Guess...."

Gabrielle had spent enough months working with Johanna to anticipate trouble. "Nope. Not playing along," she said.

         "Come on just guess..."

       Johanna crossed her bronzed arms over her bronzed chest, and tapped her foot, waiting for an answer.

         "Look, I'm not going to go down the list of your army of male friends to try to guess which one of them asked about me. Just tell me who claims to be interested."

       Gabrielle could feel herself becoming defensive. It was hard not to sense this was some sort of trap. Only five minutes into her workday and Johanna was already literally backing Gabrielle into a corner.

Pretending to leaf through the tower of surf magazines on the desk , Gabrielle tried her best not to notice she was trapped behind the narrow desk. But as her eyes scanned over the chiseled abs and tan bodies dawning the front covers, she forget about her coworker, and found herself instead becoming triggered. The truth was, despite living in Hawaii, where professional surfers roamed freely, Gabrielle hated the sport.

        If Hawaii was a pilgrimage of sorts for single, good looking surfers, then the North Shore was their Mecca. Their town was the poster child for "good vibes only," which was a popular poster taped up haphazardly on the window of almost local surf shop. Smiling rainbow stickers were stuck on every park bench lining the dilapidated two way streets.