Awaken Me

by Farrah Rochon

  Swallowing past the guilt that continued to build whenever he even thought about leaving HCC, Reid followed Harrison into the living room where Indina and Willow were already seated on the sofa, each with a glass of white wine in hand. A moment later, Ezra and Griffin came through the French doors that led out onto the patio.

  “How’s it been going?” Griffin asked, greeting Reid with the same half-arm hug he’d just shared with Jonathan. His future brother-in-law pointed to the patio. “Have you seen the new grill that one just bought? Next party will have to be here. I want to see what that thing can do.”

  “I’m grilling burgers for the Saints game on Sunday,” Harrison said. “I will be giving demonstrations.”

  “He’s giving the demonstrations. I’ll bet that’s because he’s the only one allowed to touch the grill,” Ezra chimed in.

  “You damn right. Don’t even think about laying a hand on it.”

  Indina snorted. “I swear I will never understand men and their toys.” She held up a hand when Harrison started to speak. “I don’t want to understand. I want to get started with this meeting. Griffin and I are trying to catch an eight o’clock movie.”

  “On a Thursday?”

  “We’ve been working late every single night this week,” she said. “With the way things are at the office these days, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re stuck there tomorrow night too. I don’t want to chance it.” She pointed her wineglass at Reid. “You ready to wow us with your ideas?”

  Sweat instantly broke out in the middle of his back.

  How in the hell had he landed himself in this position? Oh, right. He’d opened his big mouth. Maybe next time he’d keep it shut. It wasn’t so bad being the charming slacker who no one ever took seriously. That was his role, and he played it to perfection.

  Stop it, dammit!

  You can do this.

  With Brooklyn’s help he’d come up with a damn good idea. He was fully prepared for his siblings to hate it, but Reid wasn’t going down without a fight. He would make them love it.

  His gut clinched as he began.

  “When you think about foundations like the one we’ve set up for Mama, what usually comes to mind? Stuffy. Serious. Boring. But Mama wasn’t any of those things. She was the cool mom on the block. Instead of making us come inside after the streetlights came on, she’d come outside and shoot lay-ups.”

  “And make more shots than all of us combined,” Ezra said.

  “Because she was…” Harrison started.

  “…the best point guard in the land,” they all finished, quoting one of their mom’s favorite lines.

  “And she never let us forget it,” Indina chimed in.

  “But it was all in good fun,” Willow said. “Your mother was never one to brag.”

  “Exactly.” Reid jumped on his sister-in-law’s perfect segue. “If there’s one thing Mama believed in, it was having fun. That’s why I think the traditional, stuffy gala is the wrong way to go.”

  No pitchforks had emerged yet. That meant he was doing something right.

  “In my mind, and in the minds of many people around here, Mama was a real life superhero,” Reid continued. “I think the kickoff party should reflect that.”

  “I’m not following,” Griffin said. “Are you saying we should have a superhero theme for the kickoff party?”

  Reid nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Something fun and bold, but still upscale and classy.”

  He held his breath.

  No one spoke. There was an awkward strain in the air. Reid’s discomfort grew with every second that passed as five sets of eyes stared at him.

  He held his hands out. “Okay, somebody say something.”

  “I love it.” Reid’s head jerked around at the sound of his sister’s soft, awe-filled voice. “I absolutely love it.”

  “Damn, so do I,” Harrison said. He turned to Willow. “Remember when my old firm held that Halloween ball a few years ago? It was fun, but still sophisticated.”

  “Sophisticated superheroes,” Ezra mused. A slow smile drew across his face as he stared at Reid. “Damn, dawg. I didn’t think you had it in you, but you came through on this one.”

  The wave of relief that crashed through Reid’s veins was strong enough to bring him to his knees.

  “It’s brilliant,” Willow said. She rose from her seat and walked over to him. Still holding onto her wineglass, she reached up and wrapped her arms around Reid’s neck. “I knew you’d come up with a killer idea, honey.”

  He loved this woman.

  “Thank you,” Reid said, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

  “We could still rent out one of the ballrooms at the Windsor Court, or even the Hilton Riverside,” Indina said. “We could get one of those big spotlights to shoot the bat signal over the Mississippi River!”

  She hopped up from the sofa and clapped her hands together in that no-nonsense way of hers.

  “Okay, we’re definitely going with this. It’s unique and no one will be expecting it.” She turned to Reid and hooked a thumb toward where Harrison and Ezra sat. “Those two had me scared you’d have a stripper jumping out of a cake, but this is fantastic. Remind me not to listen to them.” She turned to Griffin. “Sorry, baby, but we’re not seeing a movie tonight. I wouldn’t be able to pay attention to it anyway. I have too many ideas popping up in my head. We need to get this ball rolling.”

  And, just like that, Indina was off to the races.

  Reid took a seat on the raised ledge of the stone fireplace and silently observed as his sister posed questions and threw out suggestions about how to incorporate the kickoff party’s new theme. He’d been so certain they would all hate the idea that he hadn’t prepared himself for what would happen if they actually liked it. Reid should have known Indina would take over, as usual.

  A part of him resented the way they’d so easily shut him out yet again, but he’d done his part. He’d delivered a killer theme for the foundation’s introduction to the world. No doubt his Mama was smiling down on the job her baby boy had done.

  Chapter Six

  Brooklyn sifted through the collection of sticky notes, old envelopes and tattered napkins she’d accumulated during her walk-through this morning. She’d given up on convincing the workers to use the white boards she’d hung up around the worksite to keep a running tab on needed supplies. The guys back at LeBlanc & Sons had never caught on to her brilliant idea either.

  As she filled out the inventory list, she did her best to put the reminder that had popped up on her Outlook calendar out of her head. She would have better luck getting each of those workers out there to turn their timesheets in on time and without a single error. Basically, zero chance.

  The deadline for the Vulcan Comics Grant ended tonight, at midnight. She’d filled out her application weeks ago. It sat in her cloud drive, waiting to be uploaded. All that was left for her to do was pull the trigger.

  Yet, she hadn’t.

  Why was she having such a hard time making up her damn mind? Chances were she wouldn’t get in anyway. What was the harm in applying?

  But Brooklyn knew exactly why she got the shakes whenever her computer mouse hovered over the file folder. It wasn’t the thought of not getting the grant that would hurt, it’s the pain she would feel if she did. Because if she was lucky enough to win that $5,000 grant and a spot in their three-week long comics writing intensive, there was no way she would be able to attend. Not with the mountain of responsibilities weighing her down—responsibilities she’d added to her own plate because of her bad judgment and mistakes.

  Maybe if you’d been doing your job instead of playing around with your comics, LeBlanc & Sons would still be operating and your Dad wouldn’t be tied to that oxygen tank.

  Brooklyn closed her eyes and swallowed past the lump of guilt and disgust lodged in her throat.

  She knew she wasn’t the cause of her dad getting sick. That was from years of his working construction and
putting everyone else’s well-being ahead of his own. But it was due to her ineptitude that her family was in the financial bind they now found themselves in. The medical bills were piling up, and the blame for that rested squarely on Brooklyn’s shoulders.

  Thank God she’d landed this job.

  Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.

  This job had been a godsend in more ways than one, but one of the biggest bonuses to her new position at Holmes Construction was that it had come with a twenty-percent salary increase over what she’d been making at LeBlanc & Sons. Last week, Brooklyn opened a separate savings account to stash away the extra cash she would be taking in. The money would be there to help every three months when her dad’s prescriptions needed to be refilled. She’d already talked it over with her mom. Her dad would throw a fit if he knew, which is why Brooklyn would make sure he never found out.

  The alarm she’d set went off, causing her to jump so high she hit her knee against the underside of the desk.

  “Elegant as always,” Brooklyn said with a snort.

  She lifted her purse from the drawer, grabbed her hardhat from the hook next to the door and headed outside. She’d made it only a few yards past the row of wooden pallets stacked with cinderblocks before she spotted Reid walking toward her.

  She would never understand how this man made a simple T-shirt with sweat rings underneath his arms look so damn enticing.

  “I’m on my way,” he called. “Just let me wash up.” He pointed to the non-potable water bin installed for quick clean ups out in the field. He splashed water over his face, then reached behind his head, caught his shirt by the neck hole, and pulled it over his head.

  Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

  She would have appreciated the chance to prepare herself for the onslaught of lust that crashed over her. Instead, Brooklyn was left with having to hide her erect nipples, which instantly hardened at the sight of all that ridiculously gorgeous chocolate skin.

  Reid soaked the shirt with water and used it to wipe down his chest and torso, and for the first time in her life Brooklyn knew what it felt like to be jealous of an inanimate object. She would give anything to trade places with that T-shirt.

  Reid unzipped the backpack he carried with him and pulled out a clean shirt, quickly donning it. Thank God he was able to tuck the shirt in his jeans without undoing them, because she had no doubt she would have fainted at the first sound of that snap coming undone.

  “What time did Alex say the real estate woman would be there?” he asked as he came upon her.

  Brooklyn was still trying to roll her tongue back in her mouth.

  She cleared her throat before she spoke. “We’re…uh…supposed to meet her there at three p.m.,” she finally said. “We have to pass through two school zones to get there, which will tack on another ten minutes to the drive, so I figured we need to head out earlier.”

  “There’s construction on the St. Charles Streetcar line, too. I say we try to avoid that area altogether,” Reid said as they started for the gate.

  “Do you mind if we take your truck?” Brooklyn asked. “My car started doing this jerking thing this morning. I don’t want to drive it too much.”

  “Transmission?”

  She hunched her shoulders. “When it comes to cars, my knowledge bank is pretty much empty.”

  “They’re not my strong suit either, but I know enough to check the level of the transmission fluid. I can take a look at it once we get back if you want me to,” he offered.

  A delicate tremor fluttered in her belly. There was something altogether too domestic about the thought of him playing underneath the hood of her car.

  “Uh, thank you,” Brooklyn said. “I’d appreciate that.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he replied. They quietly traversed over several yards of uneven sidewalk before he spoke again. “I’m surprised you don’t have someone to do that for you,” he said, a curious lilt to his voice.

  “My dad used to, but—”

  “I’m not talking about your dad,” Reid interrupted. “I’m talking about a boyfriend.”

  Her heart skipped a beat and she nearly tripped over her own two feet. Thankfully, there was a jagged piece of sidewalk that she could blame her clumsiness on.

  “I…” she started, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Her skin flushed with heat.

  “Well?” he pressed. “Why don’t you?”

  “Why don’t I have a boyfriend?” she asked.

  “That is what we were talking about, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what you were talking about,” Brooklyn answered as they came upon his Chevy. He opened the passenger door for her and she had to grab onto the door frame in order to lift herself into the behemoth of a truck. Reid rounded the front and climbed in on the driver’s side.

  He buckled his seatbelt, then draped one wrist over the steering wheel and turned to her.

  “So are you going to answer my question?” he asked.

  “Which question?”

  His brow arched in indulgent exasperation.

  Brooklyn threw her hands up. “How am I supposed to answer that question? I don’t know why I don’t have a boyfriend. Maybe my OkCupid and Black People Meet profiles aren’t interesting enough.”

  The grin that tilted up the corners of his mouth would have been cute if the smile wasn’t at her expense.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she warned. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with online dating.”

  “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it, did I?” he asked as he revved the engine and pulled away from the curb.

  “You’ve done online dating?”

  “I didn’t say that either.” They turned onto Carrolton, heading uptown. “I can help you with your profile,” he said. “I’ll bet you’re too honest to lie on it.”

  “What’s the point in lying? If I lie on my profile, that means I’ll have to lie in the relationship.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re looking for an actual relationship online? I thought people just used those things to hook up.”

  “That’s Tinder.”

  “You’re on Tinder too?”

  “No!” Brooklyn said. Why were they even having this conversation? “Can we please stop talking about my online dating habits?”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to be a friendly co-worker,” he said, a tinge of amusement coloring his voice.

  This was a game to him. Her heart broke a little.

  “Co-workers don’t talk about their dating lives,” Brooklyn murmured.

  “Says who? You need to spend more time in the field. I know more about girlfriends and fiancés than I ever wanted to know.”

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, co-workers don’t share that kind of information.” She then turned her head, putting an end to the conversation. She had to put an end to it, because Brooklyn doubted she would be able to speak past the disappointment clogging her throat. She stared out the passenger side window, and tried her hardest to ignore the hurt resonating within her chest.

  If his reaction to discovering that she was on online dating sites was to help with her profile so she could find dates with other men, it revealed a lot about how he felt. Clearly, he didn’t see them moving past the friendly co-worker stage.

  That’s what you wanted, right? A typical workplace crush. Nothing more.

  Brooklyn mentally pointed her middle finger at the annoying voice in her head.

  Okay, fine. So maybe she had insisted that she would be satisfied with Reid being nothing more than the object of her little workplace fantasy, but come on. Seriously. Come. On. Would it be too much to ask that he at least try to see her as desirable? Could he not pretend for a minute that there was something a bit more amorous behind his teasing smile?

  Apparently not. Because if last week’s flirting really meant anything to him, he wouldn’t be offering to help her find a date.

  Brooklyn barely contained her growl.

  Her neighbor’s six-yea
r-old daughter was right. Boys were stupid.

  As they pulled up to a two-story building on Magazine Street, Brooklyn decided that Reid’s obliviousness to her feelings for him would not take up any more space in her head. She was on the clock. Alex wasn’t paying her to obsess over his clueless cousin.

  She opened the door before he could make his way to her side of the truck and climbed down onto the sidewalk.

  “This is it, right?” Reid ask as he came around the truck.

  She glanced at the address she’d saved into her phone. “Looks like it.”

  The front of the building was done in sage green stucco. Black ironwork ran along the upper balcony, resembling the townhouses found in the French Quarter. There was a logo for an accounting firm on one door, and a For Lease sign in the window of the other half of the building.

  “This is pretty nice,” Reid said. “I already know one reason Alex likes this place. It isn’t too far from his house.”

  The door to the unleased side opened and a blonde dressed in a sensible pants suit and ballerina flats walked out.

  “Hi there! Alexander?” she asked, extending a hand to Reid.

  “No, I’m the Deputy Project Manager at Holmes Construction, Reid Holmes. This is Brooklyn LeBlanc, the Site Coordinator. Alex is tied up at one of our worksites and asked the two of us to take a look at the office space.”

  “Well, welcome,” she said. “My name is Shania, like the country singer.”

  Brooklyn looked at Reid, who looked back at her. They both turned to the real estate agent.

  She waved her hand. “Never mind about that. Why don’t I show you around?”

  As they followed her into the building, Brooklyn leaned over and whispered, “Deputy Project Manager?”

  “Sounds better than head plumber,” he murmured.

  “Mr. Holmes was very specific in his requirements,” the Realtor called over her shoulder. “He requested a space that could house a staff of ten, along with two conference rooms. I think he will be very happy with this particular office space. There are twelve offices, two conference rooms and a decent size kitchen-slash-break area. And this stretch of Magazine Street has seen major development in the last few years, so there’s a number of restaurants within walking distance.”