It's later that day in Columbus.
Brett drove his Fairmont around the city sightseeing, then decided to park and walk around the town.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Brett walked down the sidewalk of Washington Street and glanced at the stores.
He walked to the Zaharakos ice cream parlor.
"Why does this parlor look so familiar?" Brett asked, glancing at Zaharakos. Then he went inside.
It's crowded inside Zaharakos ice cream parlor.
Brett glanced around the parlor. A strong deja vu feeling flooded his body. His eyes widened. "This place looks exactly like my dreams!" he said in awe.
Brett noticed the onyx soda fountain, with an Italian marble countertop stretching the length of the ice cream parlor's main room. In the middle of the counter was a beautiful Tiffany-style lamp with rose, green, and golden yellow stained glass. Behind the counter was a mahogany back bar with a mirror and stained glass.
Brett saw a giant pipe organ. "Wow! I'm living my dream," he said, glancing around the parlor.
Brett walked up to the counter.
Behind it, a cheery-eyed young female walked up. "May I help you, sir?" she asked warmly.
Brett glanced at the buckets of available ice cream behind the glass counter. "I'll have a large mint chocolate chip cone, please," he replied.
The female scooped his selection into a cone. She handed it to Brett from across the counter. He paid her.
Brett licked his ice cream cone and turned around. His elbow bumped into someone. A chunk of mint chocolate chip fell, plopping into the cleavage of a blouse of a blonde young woman.
The woman's eyes widen. It's cold!
Without thinking, Brett quickly scooped up the ice cream from her cleavage using his fingers.
The woman slapped Brett across his face.
Brett turned beet red. "Oh no, I was trying to get the ice cream out of your, ah," he stammered, face beet red.
The woman looked at the remaining ice cream in her cleavage. "I'm sorry," she said. "Automatic reaction when an unwanted hand touches my breasts."
Brett looked at her face, tilted his cone, and plopped more ice cream on the floor.
The female behind the counter rushed to the sink and wetted a rag. Then she rushed to Brett and Corrie. "Here, you might need this," the worker offered.
Brett and Corrie looked at the female worker holding out a wet rag.
Brett took the rag, reached out to the woman's cleavage, and quickly pulled his hand back. "You better do this," he said, handing her the rag.
Corrie took Brett's rag and wiped the remaining ice cream off her cleavage. She then wiped the remaining ice cream off the floor with the rag and handed it back to the female worker.
Brett and the woman looked at each other. "Have we met before?" she asked him.
"I saw you earlier at the airshow today. You're that aerobatic pilot," he replied. His heart raced.
"The one and only," Corrie replied with a proud smile and a little bow.
Brett extended his hand. "I'm Brett Woods," he introduced.
Corrie shook his hand. "I'm Corrie Mather- son, and it's a pleasure to meet you. And I hope you enjoyed my show," she added warmly.
"I did. You're a superb pilot,' he said.
"Ah, you're just saying that because it's true," she chuckled.
The female worker looked at Corrie from the counter.
"I'm sorry, I'll have a strawberry cone, please."
The female worker walked away.
Brett and Corrie gazed at each other.
The female worker handed Corrie her cone.
Corrie paid the female.
"Well, I better head back out to the airport. It was nice to meet you, Brett Woods," she said with a warm smile.
Corrie turned around and headed to the door.
Brett watched her. "Should I?" he said under his breath.
"Sir," the female worker called out.
Brett turned around. The female held out a new mint chocolate ice cream cone, which Brett grabbed.
"Thank you."
He turned around. Corrie was not in sight. He rushed to the door.
Brett rushed out the door of Zaharakos, searched up and down the sidewalk, then spotted Corrie driving her Jeep down the street. Another deja vu feeling flooded his body. "Wait, that thing with the ice cream happened in my dreams. What's going on here?" he pondered. "Maybe my dreams are predicting my future?" he wondered.
People walking past Brett gave him concerning stares.
Later that day, Brett returned to his hotel, grabbed his laptop bag, and bought a newspaper before driving back to the plant.
Brett entered the office with his laptop bag, noticed a new box of files on a table. "Here comes the extreme boredom," he muttered, walking over to his desk, then sat, placing her laptop bag on top of the desk.
Betty entered the office. "Mister Woods. Mister Harris called a couple of times this morning. He wants you to call him ASAP," she said.
"Thank you, Betty."
She left the office.
"Here goes," he said, picking up the phone and punching a phone number. "Sidney. It's Brett," he said, cringing.
"Where the hell have you been?" Sidney yelled from the phone.
"Ah. I left to get my laptop. I left it in my hotel room. I stopped for lunch, and my car got a flat tire on the way back to the plant. I had it towed to the nearby Tire Kingdom. They were swamped, and there was a long wait," he fibbed.
"Well, why didn't you call the plant and tell them you were running late?"
"I, I guess I forgot."
"Forgot? You're not giving me much confidence!" Sidney scolded.
"I'm sorry, sir," Brett said.
"I want you to stay late to compensate for that lost time. Now, get back to work," Sidney ordered.
"Yes, sir," Brett snapped back.
Brett hung up, picked up his newspaper, and opened it to the classified section. "Get back to work," he mocked Sidney while circling a few jobs of interest with a pen.
Brett removed his laptop from the back, powered it up, and then searched Yahoo for "Corrie Matherson."
He discovered a link for "Corrie's Flying Service" and opened it. "Let's see. Her company is located at the Columbus airport. She offers flying lessons, charter service, aerial photography, and aerobatic training," he read from her website. That's interesting. Very interesting."
Sidney turned around at Harris Enterprises, glancing out his office window. A satisfying smirk grew.
Agnes entered his office with a fresh cup of coffee.
Sidney turned around.
She noticed his smirk. "What's the matter?" she asked, setting his cup on his desk.
"It's Brett. I don't have confidence he'll complete his job in Columbus to my satisfaction," he replied.
"He might pull through," Agnes said.
"I don't think he will because no matter what he's going to submit, I will reject it anyway. And then I'm finally going to fire him," he said with a satisfying smirk. "Then maybe that will finally cause Dorian to come to her senses and divorce the loser," he said.
"Would that make you happy?" she asked, walking over to his chair.
"Yes, that would make me ecstatic. Besides, I had security monitor his computer activity. He spends way too much time on airplane sites," he replied.
She leaned down and kissed Sidney on his cheek.
"Well, sweetheart, then you should fire Brett the minute he returns," she replied. Another kiss on his cheek. "I' 'm leaving early for a hair appointment," she said.
"Okay, darling," Sidney replied, then sipped his coffee.
Agnes walked out of his office.
At Brett's office at the Alliance plant, he spent the next three hours gazing at Corrie's website and reviewing AOPA's flight training information. No progress on that financial report.
Brett opened the Monster Search website to search for jobs in the Columbus area.
After ten minutes of reviewing the job opportunities, Brett discovered some interests and submitted his resume online.
Later that night, after dinner alone at the Texas Roadhouse restaurant, Brett retired to his hotel room.
Brett searched his laptop for apartment complexes. The Briarwood Apartments appeared appealing. He jotted down the information on the pad of paper the hotel provided.
Brett went to bed and watched "The Lake House" on the TV. He then punched in a phone number on his cell phone and found Dorian's digital camera on the bedside table.
"Hey buddy, how's it going down in Columbus?" Bruce answered.
"You won't believe it, Bruce! You won't believe what happened today!" he said, beaming into his cell phone.
"I haven't heard you this excited since you told me about your dreams," Bruce asked from his cell phone. "What happened?"
"I met this beautiful woman today at an airshow," Brett replied.
"So, you're looking at the menu of available appetizing women?" Bruce teased.
"Bruce, there's something about this girl. Something I can't explain. But I have the most wonderful feeling when I'm with her. She makes me feel so alive, and it's as if we've met before," Brett said, his eyes sparkling.
"I'm happy for you," Bruce replied. There was a moment of silence. "Wait, did you go to an airshow today?" Bruce questioned.
"Yeah."
"Weren't you supposed to be working on that report for Sidney?"
"I was, but I couldn't resist that air show," Brett said with a smile. "But that's not all; there are places here in Columbus that were in my dreams. It's like my dreams came alive or are predicting my future," Brett added.
"Now that's bizarre. I've never heard of dreams predicting the future, but I guess anything is possible," Bruce said.
"And what's weird is this one woman in my dreams reminds me of Dorian. She's so controlling."
"Well, that explains everything. You're manifesting your miserable marriage to Dorian into your dreams. I bet after you finally leave Dorian, those dreams will disappear," Bruce said.
"That could be true, but who cares. I must locate and get to know this girl from the airshow."
"She could finally be your winning ticket for happiness," Bruce said.
"I hope so. I'll talk to you later, buddy. Good luck," Bruce said from the cell phone.
Brett disconnected his call, rested on his pillow, returning to the movie.
His cell rang. He cringed, looking at the cell phone. "Hi, Dorian."
"You're cell phone was busy. Whom were you talking with?" "Bruce."
Brett didn't reply.
"Didn't I tell you to quit associating with him?" she yelled from his cell.
"I know, but he called, and I couldn't ignore him," he responded.
"Anyway, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dorian scolded.
"What do you mean?" Brett answered, rolling his eyes.
"Daddy told me about your flat tire on the way to the plant after lunch," she said.
"Cars do that once in a while. I don't have any control over that," Brett replied.
"It better be a flat tire!"
"It was," Brett fibbed.
"I want to see that receipt when you get home," she demanded.
"Okay," he cringed, feeling caught.
"Listen, I've been on the Internet and found a nice housing development. It's called Wedgefield Manor. There's a house at fifty-nine eighty-two Addison Avenue. Go there and take some pictures of the house and email them to me. For some reason, that development feels like a great place for us to live," Dorian ordered.
"Sure thing."
"Good. Now get some rest, as I want you to do an outstanding job tomorrow," Dorian said.
"Yes, dear," Brett replied, then disconnected his call.
"I want you to do an outstanding job tomorrow," he mocked Dorian.
He laid his cell phone on top of the bedside table and returned to watching "The Lake House." It was in this scene that Sandra Bullock saw the flag on her mailbox move up all by itself.
His eyes slowly closed, and he fell sound asleep.