Blindsided by Brooke

by Theresa Paolo

  “There’s one more.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Bex disappeared from view, and her fluffy one-eyed cat, Willy swiped at the screen. Brooke wiggled her fingers in front of the screen and laughed as Willy tried to attack her. Bex picked up the tablet and held up a deep green suit with a very tiny gold stripe going down the side of the pants and outlining the lapel. “That!” Brooke said. The fabric was rich, the color to die for, and that gold stripe gave it just a little something extra to make it pop.

  “Really? But it’s a suit.”

  “A well-crafted suit that, from the looks of it, will fit you to perfection. Wear it with that gold and emerald necklace Sarah just sent you and your crinkled metallic Christian Louboutin pumps.

  The tension that had been evident in the space between Bex’s eyebrows relaxed. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “Get yourself a guaranteed spot on the worst dressed list.”

  “Probably.” Bex put the suit down and sat on the bed. “So… Chase told me you’ve been spending time with Tyler.”

  “That’s because my brother has a big mouth.” She reached out to give him a good smack that he well deserved, but he jumped over one of the chairs at the kitchen table and dodged her. She narrowed her eyes in his direction and stuck her tongue at him before bringing her attention to Bex. “I’m just helping him out. It’s not a big deal.”

  Bex’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. “I thought you hated him.”

  “Hate is a strong word.” She never actually said that, or maybe she did, but she didn’t mean it. He was just a royal pain in her side at times, but that didn’t mean she hated him. Despite what people might think, there was only one person she hated and that was her father. As far as she was concerned that man could fall off the face of the earth tomorrow, and she wouldn’t bat an eye.

  “I never thought you hated him. After all, I’ve seen you two at trivia night, and there is a lot of sexual tension there.”

  “Why do people keep saying that? We’re just competitive.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  “Can I have my girl back now?” Chase reached for the tablet, and Brooke smacked his hand before he could grab it and turned her back to him. His hands continued to try to swipe the tablet, but she needed to set things straight with Bex before she handed it over.

  “That’s all it is, Bex. Just because you make movies for a living doesn’t mean that every one who enjoys a little friendly competition is going to fall in love and make babies.”

  “What you’re saying is… you want to have his babies.”

  “That is definitely not what I am saying.”

  “Brooke, give me the damn tablet. I have to leave for the station in five minutes.” Chase tried to reach across the table, but Brooke kicked the table into his stomach, causing Chase to double over.

  A grunt echoed through the kitchen just as Layla walked in. Without skipping a beat, she continued her line to the coffeepot. “What’s going on in here?”

  Brooke ignored her, continuing her conversation with Bex.

  Layla poured a cup of coffee, took a sip as she leaned against the counter and looked down at Chase.

  “She won’t give me my tablet so I can say goodbye to Bex before I head to work.”

  “Brooke, give your brother his tablet back.” It didn’t matter how old they were, Layla would always be their second mom.

  Brooke waved her hand at them. “One second.”

  Layla shrugged. “I tried.”

  Chase’s hand shot across the table again, and Layla sighed. “One day,” she said. “One day I’ll have the house to myself.” She went and stood next to Brooke and waved to Bex. “How long until your house is built and he can move in?”

  “We’re still discussing that,” Chase said.

  Layla ignored Chase and stared at Bex. “I thought you two already decided.”

  Bex’s lips pursed. “I thought we did too, but someone is getting his panties in a bunch because it’s technically my house.”

  “If he doesn’t want to move in with you, I will,” Layla said.

  “Me too,” Brooke added.

  Chase managed to snatch the tablet from Brooke. “No one is moving in with my girlfriend except for me. Thank you very much.”

  “Does that mean it’s settled?” Bex’s voice boomed out of the tablet.

  A slow smile curved Chase’s lips. “Yeah it’s settled. It might be your house, but we’ll make it our home.”

  “Oh, babe I wish I could hug you right now.”

  A sad glint flickered in his eyes. “Soon.”

  Brooke watched as her brother said goodbye to Bex. He smiled and put on a happy front but as soon as the tablet went black his smile faltered.

  “You miss her, don’t you?” Brooke asked.

  “In a way that I can’t explain, but we just have to get through the next month, and then a few more when she heads to the UK.”

  Brooke wasn’t known for her pep talks, but with Layla half asleep in her coffee mug, Brooke was Chase’s only resort.

  “It sucks,” she said, and Chase shot her a look. “But, what you and Bex have is special. While being apart isn’t ideal, you still have each other and that’s more than most people have.”

  “Thanks, sis,” Chase said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. His knuckles dug into her scalp, and she pushed out of his surprise noogie attack.

  She shoved at his chest. “That’s the last time I’m nice to you.”

  Chase laughed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Now I have to fix my hair, and I’ll probably be late for work.”

  “Work. Shit.” Chase peered at the digital clock on the oven then downed the rest of the orange juice he had on the table. “I have to go.”

  He got to the doorway and turned back to Brooke. “You’ll find your special someone one day,” he said then with a half-hearted smile took off running for the door.

  Chapter 6

  Brooke scrolled through a celebrity gossip site to see if Bex’s outfit from the other night became the talk of the town—as it should have. The green suit was fierce and fit her to absolute perfection. She swiped past a picture of some football player who was arrested for a DUI and then stopped on a familiar face that made her stomach twist in sickening fury.

  “That son of a bitch,” she mumbled under her breath as she read the headline. Read the Plea Father of Chase Marshall, Bex Shepard’s current boytoy, has for his estranged son. Brooke’s teeth clenched, and fire exploded in her blood as she looked into the eyes of the man who abandoned them.

  Ever since Chase started dating the Hollywood starlet, their father crawled out of whatever woodwork he’d been hiding behind and had been taking as many interviews as he possibly could. Brooke, Chase and Layla, all knew it was a ploy to line his pockets, but with each new interview that popped up, Brooke’s hatred for the abusive jerk only grew.

  She tossed her phone on the table, anger, frustration, and annoyance colliding into an ugly ball of rage inside her.

  “What’s going on?” Layla asked as she beelined it to the coffee pot.

  “Oh just our low life father talking out of his ass.”

  Layla rested against the counter and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t know why you bother to look at those articles.”

  “It’s not like I searched for it. I was trying to see if the outfit I helped Bex pick out the other night was the talk of the town.”

  “Was it?”

  “I don’t know! I got distracted by that asshole.”

  “Mouth,” Layla said as if she forgot Brooke was a woman in her twenties and not an angry sarcastic fourteen-year-old.

  “He just makes me so angry. He left us and he has the audacity to act like we’re the ones who are shunning him. It’s ridiculous. I wish there was a way we could shut him down.”

  “As long as the media keeps offering him money, he’ll
continue to talk. The only thing we can do is ignore him.”

  “Kind of hard when his face is everywhere.”

  “It’s not here in this kitchen. Or outside in the front yard. Stay off the internet, and you’ll be fine.”

  Some people had books, other people had hobbies like fishing or running, Brooke had the internet. The internet was Brooke’s only escape from the small-town life she lived. It was where she could scroll through the best dressed lists of the award seasons, follow fashion bloggers on the newest trends and hottest must have items, and it was where she could pretend, even for a moment, that she wasn’t trapped.

  She loved Layla, especially for everything Layla had sacrificed to raise her and Chase, and she loved Chase even if he was a pain in her ass, but sharing a house with them, still sleeping in the same bedroom she grew up in, wasn’t part of the plan.

  FIT was the plan. Sharing an apartment with roommates she wasn’t related to, going to pop up shops, and browsing one of a kind pieces and scouring racks for designer clothes at thrift shops on the Upper East Side. Waitressing at the local bar in her hometown where the only night activity to look forward to was trivia night at Five Leaf Brewery was not.

  Access to the outside world was the only thing that kept her sane.

  “Hasn’t he done enough damage?” Brooke asked.

  “You would think so, but he doesn’t care, which is why we need to not pay him any mind.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to avoid your lifeline. You get to keep your coffee.” Brooke tilted her head, taking in Layla’s pink scrubs and loose ponytail. “Are you just getting up or just getting home?”

  “Just getting home. I pulled a double again.”

  Layla was the hardest working person Brooke knew. She jumped on every opportunity for overtime and never took a second to relax. “When are you going to slow down? Chase and I have been contributing to the bills for years now. There’s no reason for you to continue to bust your butt.”

  Layla took a sip of coffee and shrugged. “I’m used to it. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I finally slowed down.”

  “Sleep,” Brooke suggested.

  “I don’t think I could if I tried.”

  “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

  “When you and Chase started contributing, I told Jax to stop sending money home.” Everyone had made sacrifices, but Brooke always thought that Jax took the easy way out. He didn’t stay behind to deal with the emotional aftermath instead he bailed. Sometimes she had a hard time not comparing him to their father, especially when he hadn’t come home since the day he left.

  “And with Chase getting ready to move out…” Layla continued. “I want to make sure you and I are okay.”

  “I’m an adult. You don’t need to take care of me anymore.”

  Layla reached across the table and took Brooke’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know. It doesn’t hurt to have a little extra money in the bank though. Just in case.”

  “I guess so,” Brooke said.

  “I’m going to shower and maybe try to get some sleep before I have to head back to the nursing home.”

  “Please get some sleep,” Brooke said.

  Layla nodded. “You going somewhere?”

  “I’m going over to the old Davis property to help Tyler spruce it up a bit.”

  “Tyler, huh?”

  “Yes, Tyler. He is having a hard time getting his vacation rental business up and running. It gives me something to do instead of scrolling through the internet.”

  “Is he paying you?’ Layla asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh. That’s very nice of you.”

  “You say that like it’s hard to believe.”

  “You don’t exactly have a reputation for going out of your way to help people.”

  “He’s going to sink another business if someone doesn’t help him.”

  “Why do you care?” Layla asked.

  “I don’t,” Brooke snapped.

  “I think you do.”

  “I thought you were going to shower.”

  Layla stood up and poured more coffee into her mug. “I was until this conversation took an interesting turn.”

  “There’s nothing interesting about it. Tyler needs help staging a house, I have some spare time, so I’m helping him. It’s not a big deal.”

  “The last time you and Tyler were in a room where it didn’t seem like you wanted to strangle each other was probably over a decade ago.”

  “We are two adults who can put aside our differences.”

  “I still don’t understand why you want to help him. Unless you still secretly like him.”

  “You’re reaching,” Brooke lied.

  “Am I?” Layla’s blue eyes surveyed Brooke, obviously waiting for Brooke to show a crack in her exterior. Brooke was the queen of poker face, and Layla of all people should know that. If Brooke didn’t want her to know something then she wasn’t going to know it. How Brooke felt about Tyler was one of those things.

  “You are,” Brooke insisted. “Stop trying to create drama out of nothing.”

  “I forgot that’s your department.”

  “Damn straight.” Brooke gave a wink as she pushed up from the table. “I’m going to head over to the house and get an early start. We picked up a bunch of flowers yesterday, and the beds need to be weeded out before we can start planting.”

  “If you need shovels or rakes. Mom’s stuff is still out in the shed.”

  “I know,” Brooke said. Some of it probably would be better off in the garbage, but none of them could bring themselves to throw any of it away. For Brooke, getting rid of things that meant most to Mom was like tossing away what little they had left of her. She didn’t care if the handle on the rake fell off or that the small hand shovel was more rust than metal, those things would forever stay where they belonged.

  Brooke squeezed Layla’s shoulder as she moved around the table. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you later.”

  As Brooke was halfway out of the kitchen Layla called out in a sugary tone, “Tell Tyler I said hi.”

  Brooke spun around, ponytail swaying with the movement. “Shut up.” She laughed as she walked out of the kitchen. She grabbed her notebook off the coffee table where she had drawn up a few ideas and headed out to her car.

  She got in and turned the key. The car sputtered but didn’t start. “Damn it.” Brooke reached over into the backseat, grabbed the hammer she bought, and went inside to get Layla.

  ***

  Tyler visited his mom every Sunday between the hours of ten and two because he knew that was the time his father would be out playing golf with Troy. He’d be able to dodge Dad and not accidentally bump into his brother.

  Mom answered the door like she always did with enthusiasm and a warm smile. She wrapped Tyler in a hug, her blonde hair brushing against his face as she lifted on tiptoe. He bent down to make it easier for her, completely engulfing her small frame.

  She pulled away and lowered herself back to her five foot six inches. “How are you?” she asked, concern tugging at the corners of her eyes which meant only one thing. Dad told her about their meeting.

  “Couldn’t be better,” he said.

  She rested her hands on his upper arms, giving him no choice but to look at her. She searched his face. “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely,” he said.

  “Okay.” She let her hands fall to her sides and made her way to the kitchen. He followed her through the oversized house he grew up in that didn’t lack a single amenity and into the state-of-the-art kitchen that Dad called Old World Tuscan.

  An arched brick wall comprised of earth tones surrounded the many dark brown cabinets and oversized pantry that Tyler always thought looked like a wardrobe with its ornate woodwork at the top. As a kid he once tried to go through it like the kids in that book he read, but, unfortunately, he didn’t get transported to a different world. He was stuck in his, and it
was the first time he’d realized that he’d never be able to escape his life and his father’s expectations. The kitchen, like everything else in the house, was over-the-top to show off their wealth.

  Mom grabbed a charcuterie board filled with different types of cheeses, cured meat, and artisanal bread and placed it on the marble top island in the middle of the kitchen. She grabbed two plates out of the cupboard and slid one across to Tyler before sitting on one of the brown leather stools that lined the island.

  “Thanks,” Tyler said as he loaded his plate up with the expensive cheese and meats. It was one luxury he missed after he moved into his own place, but with the little bit of money he received from his trust fund, he couldn’t bring himself to spend forty bucks for a block of cheese.

  “How are things with the rental business going?” Mom asked as she spread a soft cheese onto a piece of bread.

  He would always lie about his failures to his father, but when it came to Mom, he was honest with her. Mainly because she never made him feel worthless. If anything, she’d give him words of encouragement that he needed.

  “It could be better, but I’m trying to fix that now. Brooke Marshall, you remember her, right?” Unlike Dad, Mom didn’t grow up in Red Maple Falls. She’d met Dad in college and followed him home so he could take over the family business. Tyler wondered if it was a decision she regretted, but he never had the balls to ask.

  She’d been on the PTA with Brooke’s mom, but that was years ago, and Tyler wasn’t sure if she’d remember.

  “Of course. That poor family,” she said. “Such a tragedy. And now with that father of theirs airing their personal business to the world… It’s quite a shame. That family has already been through so much.”

  Brooke’s father was a piece of shit, and every time Tyler saw his lying face on TV he wanted to reach through his screen and pummel the bastard. Tyler may have had a rocky relationship with Brooke, but she was still a friend, and he was all too aware of her lowlife father. It pissed him off that she, along with the rest of her siblings had to deal with his bullshit. But money did that to people; it made them greedy and desperate, and unfortunately for the Marshall clan, Chase was dating a Hollywood starlet who was loaded. Tyler had a feeling their father wouldn’t stop until the well ran dry and as long as the tabloids were willing to put his ugly mug on TV, it wasn’t going to end anytime soon.