About Face (Love in the Suburbs Book 1)

by D. E. Haggerty

  “He’s right, you know.” When did Grandma join us? “Before, you were flawless with your porcelain white skin, black hair, and blue eyes. Your clothes were always perfect. Nothing was ever out of place. I hate to tell this to you, baby doll, but it was almost like you were made of plastic. You were constantly running around for your big, fancy job, but you were never happy. You certainly didn’t have time for fun.” My mouth falls open as I listen to Grandma. “You were exactly like your mom.”

  Oh no, she didn’t! She did not accuse me of being like Mom. The same mom who didn’t bother staying in town until I got out of the hospital from my accident because she had to get back to work. No, no, no, I shake my head. I’m not the one who had a child and then pretty much forgot about her!

  “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “I’m sorry, baby girl, but someone had to.” Having said her piece, she walks out.

  “Now, about my business plan.” Jackson tries to bring the conversation back to the reason he’s here, but I’m still reeling from my grandma’s words.

  “Do you think I’m a selfish bitch?” Because if I’m ‘like my mom’, then a selfish bitch is what I am.

  Jackson’s eyes widen and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Um, no?”

  I snort. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “Please, you know there is no possible way I can answer your question without making you mad and ending up getting my ass chewed out by you.”

  He’s not wrong. Still, I want to hear his answer. “Answer the question – truthfully.”

  He starts gathering his things and throwing them in his bag. He puts the bag on his shoulder and stands before answering. “I think you’ve been very focused on your career.”

  I chuckle. “Bwak. Bwak. You’re afraid to answer me. Chicken.”

  He nods. “Of course, I am. I lived with a woman for years. I know a loaded question when I hear one.”

  “I’m really sorry about Debbie.” He nods and I notice his shoulders relax. “But there’s no getting out of answering my question.”

  He collapses on the sofa with a grunt. “Fine. But remember you asked for it.” I nod in encouragement. “I would never call you a bitch because you never have been one. Even when you’re super stressed, you maintain a professional attitude.” That sounds good. “But…” Uh oh. “You were a teensy-weensy bit selfish and maybe self-absorbed. It was all about work for you. Even when you would go out, it was to check out a venue or the competition. And your girlfriends?” He raises an eyebrow at me as if the mere mentioning of my girls is enough.

  I take a minute to absorb his words. I can admit my life was all about the job, but I had fun. I did! Didn’t I? And being all about the job doesn’t make someone selfish, does it? “Why do you want to start a business with me if I’m selfish?”

  Jackson groans. He probably thought he was off the hook. Not likely. “Because you’re good at what you do. No, you’re brilliant at what you do. Why do you think Tara is jealous? And Devon wants you back even though you can’t walk yet?” His words soothe my injured feelings. A bit. “I’ve got to get back. Will you think about the business plan and get back to me?”

  I nod, but the business plan is the furthest thing from my mind. Is it true I’m selfish and self-absorbed? Because if I am, then I am like my mother. When did this happen? How did I allow myself to become my mom? No. No. No. It can’t be true. I refuse to believe it.

  Chapter 28

  A lady should always walk with dignity.

  I’m floating on cloud nine when I hobble into therapy a few days later. Oh sure, I should be thinking about how everyone in my life apparently thinks I’m a selfish bitch, but I’m not. Nope. The smile on my face is all about Brodie. We had another date and another sleepover. And – believe it or not – things in the bedroom were even hotter than our first time together. Like scorching hot. Obviously, Brodie doesn’t think or care if I’m a selfish bitch.

  “Hey, beautiful.” Speak of the devil and he will appear.

  “Hey, babe. I didn’t expect to see you.” He smiles before giving me a quick kiss. My lips tingle and I wonder if we have time for a quick make-out session. Avoiding Carrie and her ‘don’t try, do’-philosophy has nothing to do with my desires.

  “Actually,” when Brodie pauses, I know I’m not going to like what he has to say, “I thought I’d observe your therapy session today.”

  Uh oh. My eyes narrow as I ponder his words. Why would he want to observe my PT session? It’s not like he doesn’t know what a PT session looks like. Time for a diversion. “Hoping my pants will split again and offer you free access?” Like I’m not still totally embarrassed I ripped my pants in front of the entire therapy room.

  Brodie leans down and whispers into my ear, “I don’t need easy access. I enjoy taking your clothes off – slowly.” He kisses the spot directly behind my ear. The spot he knows makes my knees weak. I sigh and lean into him.

  “Frankie! Why are you dawdling? Get your butt moving in here!” Drill Sergeant Carrie has arrived. Yippie.

  I start to say goodbye to Brodie, but he follows me. “Um, dude, why are you following me? These yoga pants are new. I’m pretty certain they are not going to rip open.”

  Brodie chuckles but keeps following me. Oh darn, I was hoping he wasn’t serious about observing my PT session.

  While I hop onto the treatment table and start my session with Carrie, Brodie leans against the wall and watches. I nearly slap my forehead when I realize what’s going on. He’s observing Carrie today. Of course, he is. He’s her boss, after all. I’m such a doofus. He’s not here for me.

  Carrie takes me through our standard warm-up exercises to get my leg muscles ready for whatever torture today’s session will encompass. These exercises used to be hell. I lost all flexibility with the accident and subsequent surgeries. Although – strictly speaking – I wasn’t very flexible to begin with. I wasn’t much into exercise before the accident. Walking an average of 25,000 steps a day and dancing the night away two days a week was my strict exercise regime.

  Nowadays, the therapy warm-up is not too bad. But you won’t hear me admitting anything of the sort to Carrie. She’d probably make up other exercises to ‘challenge’ me. Challenge is not a word you want to hear at physical therapy. Trust me.

  “Okay, hop off,” Carrie says as she slaps the table. “We’re doing the parallel bars today.”

  My shoulders sag in relief. I’ve become quite the champion at the parallel bars. Although I usually use my crutches to keep my weight off my injured leg, we’ve been practicing putting some weight on my bad leg using the bars. Luckily, my pants have held up to the pressure. To be fair, I did go out and buy more yoga pants in a bigger size. Something I absolutely refuse to think about. I must have gained twenty pounds since staying at Grandma’s. I shake my head. Nope. Not thinking about it.

  “Okay,” Carrie says once I’m at the start of the parallel bars. “We’re going to do something different today.”

  I don’t like the sound of this. In this room, ‘different’ usually means painful and most likely physically impossible. I take a tiny step back, but Brodie is standing there preventing my retreat. Oh god. Is he here for this? To watch me fall on my ass?

  “Today, you’re going to walk.”

  Walk? Like walk, walk? Like no use of crutches, walk? Is she crazy? My wide eyes find Brodie and I try to communicate the panic I’m feeling. He grins and walks forward. “You’re ready, beautiful. You can do this. The parallel bars are here to support you. And Carrie and I are here to make sure you don’t fall.” He reaches out his hand and I stare at him for several moments before handing him my crutches.

  My weight is now balanced on my right leg, and I’m holding onto the parallel bars for dear life. I stare at Carrie who’s standing at the other end of the parallel bars, which are like two million gazillion miles away. Slight exaggeration.

  “Come on, let’s get this show on the road,” Carrie sp
eaks loud enough for the entire room to hear. Oh great, now everyone can watch me fail. Yippie.

  “I know, I know,” I shout back. “Don’t try. Just do.” My tone is perhaps a teensy bit snippy. But who can blame me? Carrie hasn’t prepared me for this. She could have easily given me a heads up at our last session. Then, I would have had time to contract a summer cold and mysteriously disappear. Maybe warning me would have not been the best idea after all.

  “Make me proud, beautiful,” Brodie whispers into my ear before kissing that sensitive spot again. Who gave him a map to all the hot spots in my body? How in the hell am I supposed to resist him?

  I take one step forward, using the parallel bars to carry most of my weight. “You can use the bars.” Geez. Thanks. “But don’t put all your weight on them. Your leg is ready to carry more of your weight.” Easy for her to say.

  I release the death grip I have on the bars, although I don’t release them completely, and take another step.

  “Whoo! Hoo! Go, Frankie!” I hear Shelby shout from somewhere across the room. I don’t look at her. I can’t. The slightest disruption will cause me to lose my balance and crash to the ground. I will not be embarrassing myself by falling on my ass today – I hope.

  I shuffle my right leg forward. I’m standing. I take a deep breath and then release my death grip on the bars. My hands remain hovering over the bars. I’m not an idiot after all. But my hands are literally not touching the bars. My heart speeds up and I can feel sweat forming on my forehead. My face is scrunched up as I concentrate. I am going to do this. No, not going to. I am doing this.

  Inch by inch. Wobbly step by wobbly step. I make my way towards the end of the parallel bars. I’m not sure how much time passes as I actually walk – I am really, truly walking! – the ten feet from the start to the finish of the bars. When I reach the end, Brodie is there waiting for me. His smile stretches from ear to ear. He holds out his hands and I walk – squeal! – into them. As soon as our hands touch, he pulls me close and lifts me off the ground to twirl me around.

  Applause erupts in the room. I look up from the comfort of Brodie’s arms and smile when I see everyone in the room has stopped to applaud this momentous occasion for me. I tap Brodie on the shoulder to let me down. Using his arms to steady myself, I take a bow. I’m sure I look like a total goof with the way I’m smiling. I don’t care. I just took a huge step – pun intended – towards getting my life back. I could not be happier.

  Chapter 29

  A lady should never shout.

  The doorbell ringing wakes me up from my nap. I have no idea how in the world I’m going to go back to working a full-time job when I can’t seem to make it through an afternoon without laying down for an hour to nap. I glance at my alarm clock. Make that two hours. There’s a knock on my bedroom door and, before I have a chance to respond, Shelby waltzes in.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, um, I thought we’d go have a cocktail. Come on, get up, and get dressed. Put something pretty on.” She’s looking anywhere but at me. What the heck?

  I sit up in bed. “What’s going on?”

  She continues to stare at the carpet as she answers, “Nothing. I’m in the mood for a Cosmo is all.”

  Now, I know she’s lying. Shelby does not drink frou-frou drinks – her terminology, not mine. Now me? I love me some frou-frou drinks. “Try again,” I demand.

  She huffs before taking a seat beside me on my bed. “Can you just go along? Your grandma will kill me if I mess up.”

  My eyebrows rise. Of course, Grandma is up to something. The woman is always up to something. She needs a hobby. Or should I say a different hobby, one which doesn’t involve trying to matchmake or marry off her granddaughter. “I promise you’ll like it.”

  “Promise me she isn’t setting me up with another one of her friend’s grandchildren.”

  Shelby makes an x over her heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  “Fine.” I stand and limp my way to my closet.

  “You might want to wear something festive,” Shelby calls before she rushes out of the room. I stare at my bed and contemplate going back to my nap, but no, if Grandma is up to something – and she is most definitely up to something – I better play along.

  Thirty minutes later, I’ve done my hair and put on another maxi dress. This one a color of blue I fancy matches my eyes. It has spaghetti straps, which show off the muscle tone in my shoulders and upper arms. Huh. Lookee, lookee. I’ve got muscle tone. The best part about the dress is an extremely high slit on the right side. It’s sexy without showing anything of my damaged leg. I predict a lot of maxi dresses in my future.

  I emerge from my bedroom and hobble down the hallway with one crutch. I may have walked without crutches for the first time this week, but my leg is nowhere near strong enough to maintain walking without support for long. Which is totally fine. I’ve gone from two crutches to one. Soon, I will go from one to none. I can practically taste my freedom. Of course, freedom means I need to figure out what the heck to do with my life. Ugh! Not going to think about it. Now is not the time to stress about my career. Nope. Grandma is up to something and I need my wits about me for whatever may come. I round the corner into the living room.

  “Surprise!” I stumble and nearly fall flat on my face when an entire roomful of people shout upon my entry.

  “What’s going on?” I look around and notice the room is decorated for a party. I squint to read the banners. Baby’s first steps. Oh no, they didn’t.

  “It’s your ‘Congrats! You’re walking’ party,” Shelby explains as she hands me a glass of wine.

  “You’re crazy. You know that, right?” Who throws a thirty-five-year-old a party using baby decorations?

  “I must be the crazy one because the party was my idea,” Brodie announces before leaning down and kissing me. “Congratulations, beautiful,” he whispers, and I shiver at the sound.

  Shelby pushes in between. “No way, big guy. You’re not stealing her away from her own party. Go.” She shoos him away. “She’s mine for tonight. You can get your freak on with her later.” Brodie chuckles before kissing my forehead and meandering off.

  “I don’t know why you brought a gift.” I hear Becky bitch. “It’s not like it’s her birthday.” I turn around to see Becky, Suzanne, and Bailey walk in. Bailey is blushing and holding a wrapped package.

  “Congrats,” Bailey says and hands me the package. “It’s just something small,” she explains, and her blush deepens.

  “I’m sure it’s awesome.” I smile and rip open the package. It is awesome! It’s a vertical flip cover for my kindle. You can stand your kindle up with it, so you don’t have to hold onto it while reading. Perfect for reading while in bed. I reach over and give Bailey a hug. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

  “I thought you were walking.” Suzanne motions to my crutch. “Isn’t that what this party is about?”

  I have no idea how to respond to her. Is this how I used to talk? No wonder everyone thinks I’m a selfish bitch. Shelby responds before I can get my act together. “The bar’s in the corner. There are snacks in the dining room.”

  At the word ‘bar’, Suzanne and Becky turn as one and walk off. Bailey stays behind. “Um… it’s wonderful your recovery is coming along. Do you think you will return to the city and get back to work now?”

  Oh great, the very question I’ve been avoiding asking myself. I have no answer. I shrug. “Um—”

  “She’s actually thinking of staying in the burbs and starting her own business.” I glare at Shelby. I’m not ready to tell anyone about the business idea. Especially not anyone connected in any manner to my archenemy, Tara.

  “Wow. Cool.” Bailey clears her throat and stares at her feet for a moment. “Do you think maybe you’ll need an office manager?”

  “What?” As far as I know, Bailey grew up in the city and she’s never left. She even went to college there. “You’d leave the city?”

  S
he shrugs. “I’m ready for a change. I’ve been thinking—” Her words cut off and her eyes narrow as she watches something across the room. I look in the direction she’s glaring at. Suzanne and Becky are talking to Brodie. As we watch, Brodie shakes his head and walks away in the direction of the dining room. Suzanne and Becky follow him.

  “That’s Brodie,” I explain.

  She leans close and whispers, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Okay,” I whisper back intrigued despite myself. I feel Shelby come close to my side and the three of us huddle together. “What’s up?”

  “Well, you know, this is kind of crazy…”

  “You’ve come to the right place then,” Shelby interrupts.

  “Suzanne and Becky are going to try to steal Brodie away from you.” She rushes her words to the point she’s nearly impossible to understand.

  “You have to be fucking kidding me. I’ll cut a bitch.” Shelby growls and starts after them. I grab her arm and stop her.

  “Hold up.” I keep a firm hold on Shelby and ask Bailey, “What are you talking about?”

  “On the drive here, they kept talking about how you weren’t woman enough for a man like Brodie. They’re super jealous.”

  Shelby snorts. “Of course, they are.” I shush her. I want to hear what Bailey has to say.

  “Anyway, one thing led to another and before I knew it, they were betting each other who could get Brodie in bed quickest.”

  Now, I’m pissed. These are my friends. Why would they try to hook up with my boyfriend? That’s a total violation of the sister-code. I push Shelby and Bailey away. I’m kicking those two bitches out of here. I’m done – d-o-n-e – with them!

  I turn the corner into the dining room and scream at the scene before me. Becky has Brodie pushed up against the wall and they’re kissing. They are kissing. “What the hell is going on here?”