by Lyn Gardner
“Yes,” Brodie said quietly. “It was a rough night, and I thought some fresh air would do me good. Unfortunately, once I started seeing all the Christmas shit, my emotions got the better of me. I started to cry and knew I needed to stop so I could regroup…and you know the rest of the story.”
“I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
Brodie held up her casted hand. “It doesn’t really hurt, at least not anymore.”
“I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about your heart.”
“Oh.”
“But maybe you two will get back together. You did the last time.”
Brodie leaned back in her chair. A few weeks after she and Kate had returned from Bournemouth, Brodie told her family that she and Kate had broken up. It wasn’t a lie because after the night in the hostel, their friendship had ended, and it quickly stopped her family from mentioning Kate in conversation. But lies have a way of taking on a life of their own…if you let them.
“Yeah,” Brodie said, looking at Ethan. “About that.”
***
They sat there for almost an hour as Brodie confessed her sins. There was only one in Ethan’s mind, a tiny lie told about a make-believe relationship that eventually turned into a real one, and as Brodie spoke about that weekend at their father’s, her emotions began to bubble to the surface. Before too long, through tears and sobs, she told Ethan everything. About a woman she loved more than she ever thought possible, about endless arguments behind doors always closed, and how, in the end, Brodie had to walk away or fear losing what Ethan had never realized was a privilege. Being yourself.
Thinking back over the years, Ethan tried to remember the last time he had seen his sister cry. Even though he was the oldest, Brodie had always been the strongest. Skinned knees, broken bicycles, and football losses all seemed somehow more manageable with Brodie by his side. Now the tables were turned, and Ethan didn’t hesitate. As Brodie had done for her brothers so many times before, he wrapped his arms around his sister and held her tightly.
Brodie’s words spun in Ethan’s head, and he damned the world, and he damned Kate. There was nothing wrong with his sister. There was nothing wrong with wanting to live your own bloody life. There was nothing wrong with being who you are. Ethan hung his head, and tears pooled in his eyes. What the fuck was wrong with some people?
Before too long, fearing he’d start blubbering like a little girl, Ethan sniffled back his tears and went about making another pot of coffee. The time gave them both a chance to regroup, and when he returned to Brodie and handed her a fresh cup, their eyes were no longer red, and their noses were no longer running. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” Brodie said, taking the drink.
Ethan sunk into his chair and stared at the cup in his hands for a moment. “Not to continue beating this horse, but it’s really hard to believe that when you and Kate were up at Dad’s, you weren’t…uh…you weren’t…”
“No, we weren’t,” Brodie said, grinning. “It was just an act.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who lied.”
“Yeah, but it’s because we were always trying to fix you up.”
“You were just doing what you thought was right.”
Ethan slowly bobbed his head. “So…were we ever?”
“Ever what?”
“Right about the women we pushed on you? Any of them ever turn your head?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“But that’s okay,” Brodie said, and setting her cup on the desk, she spun it around so she could hold it properly. “You were doing it out of love. I know that.”
Ethan mindlessly took a sip of his coffee while he watched his sister struggle with hers. “Oh, Christ. Is that going to cock things up?” he said, staring at Brodie’s cast. “You’re right-handed.”
“I am, and that’s another reason why I didn’t call anyone. I didn’t need you around while I fumbled with trying to zip my jeans.”
“Oh, I don’t know. We did bathe together when we were children. That’s not too far of a stretch.”
Brodie scrunched up her face. “Do you have any idea how many things are wrong with that statement?”
“I was just joking, sis,” Ethan said, snickering. “The last thing I want to do is see your bits and pieces, but seriously, Brodie, are you going to be able to manage? I know you use CAD, but left-handed?”
“Tell me about it,” Brodie said with a laugh. “The first time I tried to use the stylus, I definitely felt challenged, but once I switched over to the mouse, things got a little easier. So, the only thing I cocked up was my ability to drive a car and tie my shoes. When it comes to designing, I should be okay.”
“Good,” Ethan said, glancing at Brodie’s work boots. Tickled to see the laces dangling, he leaned over and tied them, and when he popped up again, he was wearing a wide and toothy smile. “Because you’re going to be a very busy girl.”
“I know. I’ve got twenty-four flat designs I have to finish for this job.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Huh?”
“You remember that condo remodel we did for the Jacobs?”
“Of course. It was an investment property. They sold it shortly after we were through remodeling it.”
“At twice what they paid.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, and Mr. Jacobs called first thing this morning. He and his wife want to hire us to do another job, which means it’s time for me and you to either shit or get off the pot.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Brodie, they’ve been sitting on two empty buildings, and they’ve finally got the capital to convert them. One’s an old church they want to turn into an upscale home, and the other is a factory they want to remodel into apartments. They’re thinking four or possibly even six flats. Could be more depending on what you come up with.”
“What!”
“So, all those chats we’ve had about expanding the business may need to be put into play. We don’t have enough employees to do the work unless we hire more, and we can’t hire more, unless we have someone to help with all the paperwork. I can’t do the invoices, hire all the subs, handle the suppliers, and run the sites, too. We either turn this down or expand.”
“Shit.”
“Does that mean no?”
The past week had given Brodie a lot of time to think, and unlike the previous weeks when her thoughts would always return to Kate, that hadn’t happened, at least not as much. Between recuperating from the accident and adapting to being left-handed, when Brodie’s head hit the pillow at night, she fell into a welcomed dreamless sleep. Being busy was Brodie’s friend, and Brodie needed a friend. She looked over at Ethan. “Do the Jacobs want to start right away?”
“No, not for a few more months. Why?”
“Because it looks like we’re expanding.”
***
That night, Brodie stepped out of the lift, her attaché slung over one shoulder, tubes containing blueprints tucked under her arm, and a bag filled with enough Chinese food to feed an army dangling from her fingertips. She noticed a box on the floor as she approached her flat, and after placing the bag down long enough to unlock the door, she picked up her dinner, pushed the box inside with her foot, and kicked the door closed behind her.
A short time later, after devouring a couple of egg rolls, Brodie retrieved the box sent by her father. Every few months, he would send her a care package filled with nibbles and the like, along with a few paperbacks he thought she’d like, so she wasn’t at all surprised until she opened the box. Seeing the envelope on top, she ripped it open and read the words he had written.
My darling Brodie –
After all that’s happened, I wasn’t sure what to do with what was supposed to be your Christmas present, so I thought I’d let you make that decision. The other things I had forgotten to give you when
last you visited, although I did keep a few. I hope you don’t mind.
Give your father a call when you’re up to it. I miss hearing your lovely voice.
Love, Dad
Brodie set aside the note, and removing some crumpled newspaper from the box, she pulled out a large brown envelope and dumped its contents onto the table. Brodie instantly beamed. The sketches and drawings that had hung on the walls of her childhood room were now in front of her, and picking up a few, Brodie ran her finger along the outlines of houses drawn in crayon and colored pencil. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, setting them aside.
At the bottom of the box was a photo album, and Brodie flipped it open without giving it a second thought. A moment later, tears welled in her eyes for inside were the photographs Harrison had taken when Brodie and Kate had visited for his birthday.
One by one, Brodie looked at the pictures filling the pages. The posed ones made her laugh, remembering her father’s order to repeatedly say cheese, and she grinned at the innocence and precociousness sparkling in the eyes of her nephew and niece. She gazed lovingly at the ones showing her and her brothers, three peas in a pod so different yet so alike, and all a spitting image of their father either in looks or in attitude…and then there were those of Kate.
Brodie took a deep breath, struggling not to stare, struggling not to care, struggling not to remember, but when she reached the candid shots, Brodie lost her battle. As she fought back the tears, Brodie gathered up the album and headed into her bedroom, placing it on her nightstand for safekeeping. Tomorrow, she’d put it away, tuck it into a closet or a drawer and try to forget it existed, but for tonight, it would remain close at hand…just in case she found the strength to look at it again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
By the end of February, the business plan Brodie and Ethan had written up a year earlier was now well underway. Their initial idea included finding new office space large enough to hold their accounting and clerical staff as well as offices for the partners in the company. They both thought it would be the hardest part of the expansion when, in fact, it became the easiest. With the office next to Brodie’s vacant, in less than a week, she had signed the lease, and a day later, Ethan and his crew showed up and got to work. Walls came down, and walls went up until finally, they had a conference room, an administrative area, his and her bathrooms, four more private offices, and a break room complete with a fridge large enough to hold as many casseroles as Stevie could carry.
Much to Stevie’s surprise, he was given a promotion that Ethan and Brodie knew was well deserved. Although it meant he had to leave his post at the reception area behind him, the face of the company did not disappear behind drywall and studs. Instead, the outer walls of all the offices were now glass, and the Chief Financial Officer, in all his rainbow glory, could be seen by whoever walked into the offices of Spaces by Shaw.
A hiring melee followed with Stevie reviewing every application before they ever found their way to Brodie’s desk until, eventually, they had an accounting clerk, a junior architect, and a new receptionist. It had been two hectic months filled with long hours, mountains of paperwork, endless interviews, not to mention visiting clients and jobsites, and as Brodie hoped it would, being busy helped.
Brodie leaned back, moving her head this way and that to work out the stiffness that had settled after spending the past few hours putting the finishing touches on another design. She let out a long breath as she got to her feet, and removing the splint she was still forced to wear, Brodie tossed it aside and walked from her bedroom. She snagged her coat from the back of a dining room chair, and tugging it on, she went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of lager from the fridge before she headed to the roof.
The air was crisp, and breathing it in, Brodie went over and sat on a bench, swinging one leg over the other as she took a few swallows of her beer. She let a rather large belch escape a few seconds later, and snorting out a laugh, she took another swig of her drink and looked up. The night sky was speckled by a thousand tiny lights, and Brodie marveled at the sight. Like her hand, the healing process had been slow, yet the ache in her heart had eased just a bit.
At first, whenever she found herself thinking about Kate, Brodie would get angry. She would spend the rest of the day taking it out on innocent friends and unsuspecting strangers until one night when she sat under the stars, she saw one shining brighter than the rest. It was then when Brodie realized her bitterness was poisoning the only thing she had left of Kate. Memories.
To be enraged, suddenly made no sense. Love was an amazing gift, and for a few short months, Brodie had shared it with an incredible woman, and to be angry at the loss of it was selfish. After all, she was still in love with Kate. Even though she was no longer in her arms, Kate was still in Brodie’s life. She lived on the roof where they had once kissed and in the shower where they had made love amidst foam and steam. Kate was in the bedroom, lying across black sheets with her hair glistening in the candlelight, and she was in the game room, challenging Brodie to a game of eight ball that neither would win. It was impossible not to smile as the memories flooded Brodie’s mind. She couldn’t help it. She was in love.
Brodie finished her beer and pushed herself to her feet. She pulled out her phone and sighed when she saw the time. She felt like it was midnight, and it wasn’t even ten.
***
Four weeks later, Brodie was running on fumes. She had pushed herself each and every day, rushing here and there and everywhere, and the workload had all but removed Kate from her mind. It had also taken its toll. Three designs were in the rubbish bin due to mistakes she would never have made before, and earlier in the day, she snapped at Stevie for no reason at all. The look on his face was all it took to convince Brodie that everyone needed a break.
“Where is everybody?”
“Well, hello to you, too,” Brodie said, looking up from filling her attaché. “And don’t I count?”
“Of course, you count,” Devon said, walking to the desk. “But no one else is here.”
“I sent them home early.”
“All of them?”
Brodie grinned. “Apparently.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s Friday and everyone has been working their arses off for weeks. I thought it would be a nice gesture.”
“How come I didn’t get the memo?”
“I thought you and Gina were already on your way to spend ten days shushing down the slopes in France,” Brodie said, closing her briefcase.
“Our flight doesn’t leave for a few hours, so I’d thought I’d just stop by and drop off some purchase orders before I go pick her up. I put them on Stevie’s desk.”
“Okay,” Brodie said, looking up. “And I didn’t know you knew how to ski.”
“I haven’t been in years, but Gina found this terrific deal online for a small resort in Les Houches. It’s more for beginners and intermediate skiers, so I should be okay. And if push comes to shove, I’ll sit in front of a fireplace sipping cocoa while she plays in the snow.”
“Well, I hope you both have a great time,” Brodie said, picking up her briefcase.
“Thanks,” Devon said as she noticed an insulated bag on the desk. “Let me guess. Another casserole from Stevie?”
Brodie glanced at the bag. “Yes,” she said, pushing her chair under the desk. “Thankfully, I’ve finally got him down to bringing in just one a week, plus he’s letting me slip him some cash to cover the cost, too. And I wasn’t about to say no to his lamb casserole.”
“Oh, I love his lamb casserole.”
“Too bad. It’s mine,” Brodie said, picking up the cooler bag. “Is there anything else?”
“Wait,” Devon said, glancing at her watch. “It’s not even four. You’re leaving early, too?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You have a date?” Devon said without thinking.
Brodie smiled when she saw Devon’s cheeks darken. “Yes, with an empty apartment and a lamb casserol
e,” she said, giving Devon a quick peck on the cheek. “I think I’ve finally worn myself out, so I’m going to take the weekend and relax. No work. No computer. No designs. No contracts. Just me, some food, some books…and some wine.”
“Are you okay?”
Brodie looked down her nose at Devon. “I thought we both agreed you’d stop asking me that.”
“Sorry,” Devon said, slumping her head forward. “Hard habit to break, I guess.”
Brodie put her finger under Devon’s chin and lifted her head. “I know you mean well, but I’m fine. I’m just tired. I’m not depressed. I’m not sad. I’m not anything…except tired. All right?”
“Okay.”
“Good, now let’s get the hell out of here.”
***
“Come on, get a move on,” Frank Daggett barked, yanking open the car door. “The weekend is right around the corner, babe, and the quicker we get back to the station, the quicker I can meet up with my mates at the pub.”
Kate’s posture drooped even further. Frank being in a rush for anything, was never good. With paperwork, it meant she would spend hours filling in all the blanks he left, and with driving, it meant yet another harrowing jaunt through the city.
She had spent practically the entire day in the car with Daggett, and as far as Kate was concerned, she didn’t want to spend another—ever. Her personal life was already shit, and there was no reason to compound it with a professional one that followed suit. After trying for months to find a way to work with the man, Kate had come to the conclusion that Frank was a loathsome misogynist who had no intention of ever changing his ways. So, as much as she abhorred the race she was about to enter, getting back to the station in record time would mean Kate could request to rid herself of her partner that much quicker.
