JFK
to
Dublin
By:
Brooke St. James
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2016
Brooke St. James
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Other titles available from Brooke St. James:
Another Shot:
A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story
When Lightning Strikes
Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)
Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)
Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)
Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)
Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)
Shot by Cupid's Arrow
Dreams of Us
Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)
Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)
California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)
Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)
It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)
Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)
Dear California (Martin Family #2)
My One Regret (Martin Family #3)
Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)
Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)
Almost Christmas
Chapter 1
I assumed I wasn't supposed to hear the guy behind me when he whispered obscenities to his friend regarding what he wanted to do to me and some other girl who was standing next to me. Or maybe I was supposed to hear—either way I ignored them. I just stared straight ahead, inching closer to the curb as I waited for the light to change.
They were being completely inappropriate. My heart raced and blood rose to my cheeks as I felt myself becoming angrier and angrier by the second. It was that feeling you get when you're just about to have a confrontation, and I had to take a second to remind myself that there didn’t have to be a confrontation if I simply continued to ignore them.
It was difficult, though. So many things had been building up prior to this moment that I felt like I could snap and turn around, swinging my bag while screaming at them. In a nutshell, the current situation with the knuckleheads behind me was basically the nail in the coffin on my opinion of men in general.
Let's pause for a brief moment to reflect upon what had me so jaded.
Number 1:
My father, Saul Spicer. The same Emmy-winning Saul Spicer who has produced mega-hit television dramas for the last two decades—the one who recently got charged with sexual harassment by one of the actresses on his show. He was acquitted, and in the long run, nothing will change for him professionally, but it was all over the news, and as my mom says, "our family name will forever be tainted by this". She publically forgave him, and as far as the media was concerned, we were one big happy reformed family, which was somewhat true since we never had what you would call a normal family life to begin with. I heard my brother saying he thought my parents were just staying married for financial reasons, but they never really discussed it with us. We knew about as much as the media did.
So, was it cool to grow up with a successful TV producer for a dad? Yes. Was he a faithful husband to my mother? No.
Moving on to the Number 2 reason I'm jaded about men:
Brian Rosenberg.
I dated him for a year in high school only to find out that he was sleeping with other girls behind my back. He said it was, "what I got for making him wait so long," and the funny thing was that I didn’t even realize he was in such a hurry.
Number 3:
Cameron Harrison.
This one was different.
This one stung.
I thought he was the one.
Cameron and I dated my whole junior and senior year of college, and had even begun making plans to get married. We were together when all that stuff with my dad went down, and I really thought we were in it for the long haul. That was before I caught him in his apartment with another girl and not much clothing.
There was a huge scene where he first attempted to say it wasn't what it looked like, but since that was ludicrous, he changed his approach, to trying to make it seem like the whole thing was my fault. He said he wanted to marry a girl like me, but that the idea of not having sex before we got married was ridiculous and old fashioned. He added that I was cruel for not recognizing and meeting a man's basic needs. It was terrible. I was so traumatized by him that I now had a strict no-dating policy.
So, you see, those guys on the street corner were simply messing with the wrong girl. I was sick and tired of men and their one-track minds. I clinched my fists, praying those morons behind me wouldn't say anything else before I could walk away.
I got my wish. The light changed, and before I knew it, the whole mass of people on the corner stepped out to cross the street, and I got lost in the front of the pack, leaving the offending guys behind. I used my best speed-walking skills to get as far from them as possible, continuing two more blocks before making it to the Mexican restaurant where I was meeting some friends for lunch.
Lu was the only one there when I arrived. She was inside, but I could see her through the windows as I walked in front of the restaurant. She waved at me, and I smiled and waved back, although it wasn't very convincing because I was trying to pay attention to where I was walking, and I was still annoyed at the guys from the crosswalk. I told the hostess that I already knew where I was going, and she gestured for me to go right ahead.
"Macy is on her way," Lu said as she motioned for me to sit next to her. "And Drake's here. He went to use the restroom. I think his new girlfriend's coming." She smiled as I took a seat at the round table. There was a basket of chips in the center, and I took one of them, scooping up some salsa before popping it into my mouth.
"What's up?" she asked, knowing my smile was slightly forced.
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. "A couple of guys were mouthing off on the street. They were standing behind me, explicitly referring to body parts as power tools."
"How charming," Lu said, laughing a little before she crunched down on a chip. She gestured over my shoulder. "There's Drake."
I turned just in time to see our friend, Drake, walking up behind me. I stood and hugged him before he sat at the table with us.
"Whazzuup?" he asked, smiling and bobbing his head in a silly way at me once he sat down. "I'm so glad we came here. I love this place." He pinched my arm. "What have you been up to, Ms. Sarah-cakes?"
"Sarah was just telling me about a couple of real winners she ran into at Home Depot on her way here," Lu said. "I think she got their number."
I laughed and shook my head, but I was chewing a bite of food, so I didn't say anything.
"They weren't at Home Depot, but they were trying to score with her by referring to their body parts as tools," she explained, causing Drake to make a distasteful face.
"Me or the girl standing next to me," I said.
Lu ga
ve me a smirk before looking at Drake. "She thinks it's all men who are scumbags, but I tell her she just sees the worst of them because of how hot she is."
I giggled and rolled my eyes at Lu, who was grinning at me.
"Her therapist even came on to her," she added. "Men just can't help themselves."
"Oh my gosh, I forgot about that." I said.
"Your therapist hit on you?" Drake asked, staring at me with a curious smile as he held a chip in mid-air. "Isn't that illegal?"
"He talked in code," Lu explained with such confidence it was as if she had been there, which she hadn't.
Drake looked at me, and I nodded. "He said he had an idea for a storyline for one of Dad's shows," I said. "He explained details of an affair two of the characters would have."
"What'd you say?" Drake asked, with a huge, amused grin.
I shrugged. "I was so taken aback by him suggesting a risqué storyline, that I didn't even realize he was talking to me in code. I just smiled and agreed to everything he was saying, thinking he was seriously trying to talk to me about Dad's work."
"Why were you even seeing a therapist?" Drake asked.
"My mom set it up after everything happened with my dad."
"Are you going back there?" he asked.
"No."
He shrugged. "It must be terrible not being able to go three feet without guys hitting on you."
"That's what I'm saying," Lu added. "She's too hot. She needs to tone it down a little bit. Maybe put on a turtle neck or mess up your hair a little."
I gave them a huge smile, knowing I had a chunk of salsa spread across my front teeth—I could feel it. "That helps," Drake said, shielding his eyes like he could hardly stand to look at me.
"Tell her there are good guys out there," Lu said, talking to Drake.
Drake looked at me. "I'm a good guy," he said.
"Drake's a good guy," Lu confirmed.
"I know he is, and even still, I've witnessed a few broken hearts in his wake."
"Aww, come on," Drake defended, smiling. Then he grew serious and mumbled, "Okay, no more broken heart talk," as a cute blonde made her way to the table wearing a bright smile. I thought she must be the next in line.
Thankfully, I remembered the salsa in my teeth, and was able to clear it away before she made it to the table. Her name was Beckett, and Lu and I both smiled and agreed it was a pleasure to meet her when Drake made introductions.
We had a fine time getting to know Drake's new lady. She was quirky and beautiful just like the six or eight who had come before her. Macy showed up right after Beckett, and since Macy sort of stole the show everywhere she went, Beckett settled blissfully into the background near Drake's side.
Lu, Drake, Macy, and I all went to the School of Arts at Columbia and had been close friends the whole time we were there. Lu moved in with me after we graduated, so she and I still saw each other all the time, but it had been a while since I had seen Macy or Drake, and it was great to catch up with them.
Macy wore her hair in a huge mass of curls that appeared to stand on end in a circular shape around her head, and she had a big, vibrant personality to go with her appearance. Everyone loved Macy. She was known for telling it like it was in the most hilarious ways, and I missed seeing her more regularly like I did in college.
"Did you tell them the good news yet?" Macy asked, looking at Lu who stared back at her with a confused expression.
We were about halfway through our meal at that point, and the question had come out of nowhere.
"What good news?" Lu asked.
"About S&S."
"What about it?" Lu asked with wide eyes.
"You got an interview," Macy said.
Lu's face lit up.
"I texted you about it this morning."
"I didn't get it," Lu said, digging in her purse for her phone.
"Is it a job interview?" Beckett asked, having no idea what S&S was.
"Shower & Shelter," Macy explained.
Beckett smiled and nodded as if she recognized the name. "Art gallery, right? I think I've seen that."
"There's a gallery," Macy said, "but that's only half of it."
Beckett raised her eyebrows in a way that said she was intrigued.
"That's why it's called Shower & Shelter." Macy said. "Do you know anything about it?"
Beckett shook her head.
"I live there. It's basically free housing for artists. The owner of it is an artist, but also an art collector and seller—that's how he made his millions. His name is Theo Duval. He speaks French and English. He grew up in Montreal, but he came to New York when he was sixteen. His parents died in a car accident, and he took a bus to New York with the cash payout of what they left him, which was four thousand dollars after their debts were paid. He felt inspired by the city and driven to create art, but it was impossible for him to devote time to creating when he had to work a full-time job and could barely make ends meet. He often thought that if only he had access to a shower and a shelter, he could devote himself to honing his skills as an artist. It was something he desired so fervently that he set a goal to be the one to provide exactly that to other people in his position."
Macy paused and put her straw to her lips, taking a sip of her soda, but we were all eating, and all of us wanted her to continue.
"He started making a little money on his art, which he turned into more money by learning how to buy and sell other people's art. He's one of those industrious workaholic types. He's probably a billionaire by now. Anyway, last year, he made good on that promise he made years before. He bought a whole building in the Upper East Side, and now, he houses thirty artists."
"You mean the one with the gallery?" Beckett asked.
Macy nodded. "So, here's what he did… he left floors 3 through 16 alone," she said, gesturing with her hand to a block of space in front of her. "They were apartments, and he just left them like they were when he bought the building. He gutted the first and second stories, though."
"For the gallery?" Beckett assumed.
"The gallery's on the first. The second floor is artist housing. There used to be twenty apartments on that floor, and he had it gutted and completely redesigned. The entire second floor is set up to house thirty artists at any given time, and everybody loves it there, so it's almost impossible to get an opening. We all have our own individual loft, and there's a huge, shared studio space. It's called the Shower & Shelter Artist Collective. It was what Mr. Duval set out to do. The gallery part of it was actually an afterthought."
"And they have an opening for Lu?" I asked Macy.
She smiled and nodded.
"To live there?" Beckett asked.
Macy nodded again. "I was wondering why she hadn't told you guys."
"I didn't see the text," Lu said, staring down at her phone.
"I saw Lane this morning," Macy said. "He said they had an opening coming up, and they were planning on calling you with the group of people they're interviewing."
Chapter 2
"I'm nervous," Lu said, stashing her phone in her purse.
Macy shook her head. "Don't be. They're gonna love you. If you don't get the spot, it's just because someone else who was closer to Mr. Duval had someone applying."
Lu took a deep breath as if everything hinged on this interview.
"You know you can stay with me as long as you need to," I said.
Lu's parents had scraped by to pay for her room and board at school, but she had been staying mostly with me since we graduated. Rent in the city was expensive, and Lu wasn't selling much of her art, not yet, at least. She often talked about moving back to New Jersey with her parents, but I knew she would hate to do that.
"I know you're not trying to kick me out or anything, but wouldn't it be cool if I got into S&S? I'd have my own space, and you'd have yours. Can you believe I got an interview?"
"I want you to have your own space and everything, I just don't understand about the free rent thing. I don't want
you owing that guy anything."
Everyone sitting around the table looked at me with matching confused expressions.
"I'm just saying…" I defended with my hands up. "What's in it for him?"
"He's a philanthropist," Macy said as if that was obvious.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," I said, pretending to mistake the word philanthropist for philanderer.
Macy, who may or may not have gotten my joke, narrowed her eyes at me in a teasing way before she added, "His goal is to help artists because he wished someone would have done the same for him."
I shrugged, feeling not so convinced. "Lu said there's a communal kitchen and bathroom," I said, showing my skepticism with my expression. I didn't mean to rain on their parade, but really, from what I knew of men, I was afraid of Lu being in a communal shower situation.
"Have you seen upstairs?" Macy asked.
I shook my head.
"It's not Sodom and Gomorrah in there. It's nice. The men's and women's areas are on opposite ends, and there's always someone working." Macy paused and cocked her head at me as if trying to remember something. "Are you sure you haven't seen it?"
I shook my head. "I've been to the gallery, but never upstairs."
"Well, you wouldn't be worried about it if you had ever been up there. It's legit."
I smiled and nodded, but I still wasn't quite convinced, and my friends could see it.
"She thinks guys only have one thing on their mind." Lu explained. "No offense, Drake."
Just then, a man walked up to our table. I turned to stare at him, noticing right away that he was sharply dressed and wearing a confident grin.
"Can I take that for you?" he asked, reaching out for Drake's empty plate. I was full, so I went ahead and handed him my plate as well. We made eye contact as he took it from me, and I marveled at how polished a table-busser he was.
"What are you thinking when you look at Sarah here?" Macy asked, obviously talking to the guy.
I glanced at her with a terrified expression, even though I had no idea where she was headed with the question. She had asked it loudly enough that we all turned to look at her, and she stared straight at the ruggedly handsome bus boy who was now holding our used dishes. He smiled curiously at her, and she reached out to pat my back, causing him to glance at me.
JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 1) Page 1
