by Dawson, Zoe
He kissed her knuckles again, then leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. Something about that simple gesture, sweetly innocent in its promise, so at odds with the man she was coming to know, made tears spring to her eyes. “Drew,” she whispered, her insides quivering. “Thank you for being here. No one has ever been there like that for me until now.”
“What about your friends? They seem pretty tight.”
“They are. It’s just that…things are changing…and I feel out of sorts about it all. Should probably not come as a shock, but I like to take care of people and don’t really expect it in return.”
The room had lightened by degrees as they talked, and now were silent, while the warmth, the sheer sweetness of lying here naked with him after the hot, out-of-control sex lulled her to sleep.
When her alarm went off at its usual hour, she moaned and slammed her hand down on the off button.
She cracked an eyelid to find him smiling at her.
“Oh, God. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who wake up in the morning all cheery. I need coffee.”
He grinned and kissed her. As morning kisses went, it was heavenly.
“Mmmhmm, maybe I could learn to be a morning person.”
That obviously pleased him, which made her smile. It felt good to smile. “I’m not a complete hardass.”
He grinned and nudged her with his hips. “I happen to think your ass is damn near perfect.”
She bumped him back. “You should know.” Then her smile grew. “Are you blushing?”
“I never blush. I’m pretty sure it goes against the guy rules.”
“I don’t know,” she said, tilting her head to see his face in better light.
He leaned over and had just caught her in a fast kiss when she heard her front door open and close, then, “Brooke?”
It was a measure of how far she had sunk into this budding relationship that, even with the sudden intrusion of the real world, it took her a few more lingering moments to end the kiss and surface.
She identified the intruder. It was Callie. Callie who had a key in case of an emergency and had used it.
They both tensed.
“I tried calling you, but got no answer.” Her boot heels clicked on the hardwood floor. Oh, no. She was headed for the bedroom. “So I came up and let myself in. I brought bagels, but really was hoping you had one of your world famous muffins—Oh, shit.” She materialized in the doorway, looking windblown, a brown paper bag in her hand.
Callie stared at them in bed, and her mouth dropped open, but no words came out. She finally closed it, swallowed hard, her eyes stormy. She cut Drew a very unfriendly look and said, “I’ll be in the living room.”
Drew threw off the covers. “I’d say she doesn’t approve of me. I’ve got to get going anyway.”
“Don’t let her run you off.”
“Believe me. I’m sure I’m not at the top of your friends’ list, unless it’s their shit list. And, when it comes to women and their…discussions, I’d rather be a million miles away. You get my drift. I’ll call you later.”
She smiled slightly. She bet Callie was more worried than surprised to find her tangled up with Drew.
Drew touched her face with the back of his hand and kissed her before he left. She belted a robe around her waist, emerging from the bedroom as the door closed after him.
“I hope he didn’t leave on my account.”
Any other time, she’d have been mortified to have been caught in such a compromising situation. But the real world had returned with a vengeance, and she wasn’t prepared yet.
Brooke put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Does being rude come with the bagels instead of the cream cheese?”
Callie sighed and crossed her legs, leaning back into the sofa. “That guy is bad news.”
“He’s helping me.” Brooke turned and went to the kitchen and grabbed the carafe out of the coffee maker and filled it at the sink tap. Callie plopped down the bagel bag with a rattle.
“He’s heading up another suit. It was on the news. What were you thinking sleeping with him?” Brooke’s stomach tumbled over itself. She was on the news? Oh, God, this was so bad.
She poured the water into the well, and pushed the brew button. “I didn’t know who I slept with was your concern.” She wished the coffee would hurry up. She needed the boost of caffeine. She turned away to grab some half and half out of the fridge.
“Brooke? What is wrong?”
“Besides being charged with murder and having one of my best friends think I’m an idiot and a pushover?”
That quieted her for a moment. The silence didn’t soothe her rapidly fraying nerves.
Callie’s voice was gentle when she finally spoke. “I don’t think you’re a pushover. I’m just confused. I thought that guy was trying to bamboozle you.”
Brooke shook her head and sighed. “Bamboozle? No. Yes. At first he was, but he changed. And for your information, he took the wrongful death suit because he was trying to make sure no one else is assigned to it. It’s a stalling tactic.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I’m just concerned about you.”
“I know you are, but you’ve been so busy with Owen.”
Callie frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’ve been…absent. Especially from the dog park. That’s our time together.”
“I’m getting married to him.”
“Exactly.”
“I just had to miss a couple of times. Look, we’re friends. Friends are there for each other.”
“Then where were you when I was going through all of this?” The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. Callie looked like she’d been slapped.
“Brooke, are you mad at me?”
And suddenly it was clear what was wrong with her. She was afraid Callie was moving on that she would eventually drop of out her life, just like her parents. It was inevitable.
“Mad? Why would I be mad when you didn’t even call me to let me know either time? I thought we were friends. I’m your maid of honor.”
“We are friends. Do you think things will change when I get married to Owen?”
Brooke shrugged. “Things have already changed, Callie. I don’t blame you. We’re just four women. We’re not family. We each have our own lives, and things change.”
“Brooke, it’s more than that. I’m sorry I haven’t been around. My life has been very hectic. Integrating someone else into my life takes time and energy. I’m just trying to help.”
“It’s not helping. Don’t say bad things about Drew. You don’t even know him. I’m in serious trouble here, and he’s been here for me. I could go to jail for murder. I’m sure you, Harper and Poe will wear your finest fashions when you visit me in Sing Sing, if you do at all.”
With a hurt look Callie walked to the sofa and picked up her coat. She shrugged into it. “I’m going to go. Harper wanted me to tell you she’ll be by at ten with the limo for your appointment with the lawyer.”
“Thanks.”
“No matter what you think, Brooke, we’re all here for you. Alienating us isn’t going to help.”
“I’m sure I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Well, with that man in your bed, who would?” With a wry look she left.
Brooke picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip, the hot liquid filling her body with a soft warmth. She sighed.
It was unavoidable. One by one she’d lose her friends. It was just the way it happened.
She should be used to it, but this time she just wished it didn’t hurt so much.
#
Pushing through the sea of reporters was much easier with Harper’s chauffeur leading the way. The big man knew how to clear a path through a crowd.
As she hurried inside the posh car, Harper shouted. “Leave her alone, you animals.”
Brooke adjusted her coat and her hair as the car pulled away from th
e curb.
“That’s some media circus going on out there. But what I want to know is what’s going on in there?”
Harper tapped Brooke’s head.
Brooke looked at her friend’s perfect face and stylish clothes and she wondered if she’d ever had a bad day in her life. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Callie said you and she had a fight. I don’t think that’s ever happened in our history. She says you’re worried about losing us. She also said you were in bed with Drew Hudson.”
“Callie talks too much,” Brooke groused.
“You know there are no secrets among friends.”
Brooke leaned her head back. “It’s my own emotional baggage. I’m sure that I’ll get over it. Right now, what’s important is to work out a defense and hope they don’t convict me of the murder.”
“If it’s any consolation, Adam is one of the best defense lawyers in the city.”
Brooke reached over and grasped her friend’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. I would be lost without you. All of you.”
Harper put her arm around Brooke and squeezed.
“We would never abandon you. You have to know that. Callie is just trying to find a happy medium between Owen and us. She’ll work it out. You’ll see.”
Brooke nodded, but she knew better.
They stopped by Pawlish to pick up Rachel. Adam wanted to question her about the incident that triggered the whole Kristen-out-for-revenge story. After that quick stop, they pulled up to a limestone-clad building on Fifth Avenue. Reporters had tried to follow them, but Harper’s chauffeur was a master at ditching the press.
Inside the mahogany and glass offices of Adam Sanderson, Brooke, Rachel and Harper were offered refreshments in one of the conference rooms.
“Good to see you ladies again,” Adam said as he entered the room, splendid in a grey pinstriped suit, his dark, close-cropped hair gleaming in the overhead lights. “Who do we have here?” he said, his eyes flowing over Rachel.
“This is Rachel Chandler. My employee.”
He nodded and finally pulled his eyes away from Rachel. Brooke gave Harper a knowing look and she smiled back.
“Okay,” he said as he sat down and opened her file. “I got a copy of the police paperwork. According to the report, the maid called the police shortly after 11:30 yesterday morning.”
Brooke’s stomach knotted up and turned over. “That’s about the time I left.”
“Well, the police put you directly at the scene of the crime. And with the lawsuit that was costing you business, and could have put you out of business, they also have a pretty strong motive.”
“So what are my chances at trial?”
“It could go either way. It really is the maid’s word against yours, but the circumstantial evidence is strong, although the forensic evidence is nil. People have been convicted with less.”
“Adam, that isn’t comforting.”
“I understand, but I’m being honest.”
“So there is a real chance I could be convicted and go to prison.”
He nodded. “Rachel, why don’t you stay and give me your statement so I have the facts straight.” He turned to Brooke and Harper. “I’ll make sure she gets back to work.”
Brooke left the office in a daze, trying to remain optimistic while Harper did everything she could to bolster her.
After escaping the press finally, they had lunch and went shopping for the bridesmaids dress fabrics afterwards. Going to her office was out of the question. It would be swamped with reporters, and her being there would make it even more difficult for her employees to conduct business. If there was any business to conduct.
Brooke chose a terra cotta red for the maid of honor dress and mango for the other women. The color would set off both Poe’s dark coloring and Harper’s creamy skin tones.
Poe was going to meet them at Brooke’s apartment, and Brooke found herself really regretting her fight with Callie this morning. They didn’t really need her for the initial fitting, but they had decided she would get to see them wearing the finished products. Still, it felt…wrong…without Callie, especially when she remembered her harsh words this morning.
After rushing into the building with Harper’s chauffeur’s help, they discovered Poe waiting by Brooke’s door.
Her long hair was streaked with red today and she wore a red poncho.
“Hey there, Little Goth Riding Hood.”
Poe smiled, just finishing up a text. She tucked her phone in her red clutch.
“Hello, ladies. How are you holding up, Brooke?”
“I’m hanging in there, thanks.”
Poe nodded. Brooke let her friends in and Roscoe was overjoyed to see them. He wagged his stub of a tail so hard, his whole body shook. After giving Roscoe some kisses and petting, they hung up their coats. Leading them down to the second bedroom where she kept her sewing machine and all her craft stuff, Brooke said over her shoulder, “I’ll need to take your measurements first.”
“This will be my first wedding as a bridesmaid,” Poe said.
“Really?” Harper replied. “I’ve been in dozens.”
“I find it all so exciting.”
“Arms out,” Brooke said as she measured first Poe and then Harper.
“You should. The wedding will be spectacular with Brooke at the reins. And we’ll all look fabulous. Maybe you’ll meet yourself a man.”
“As long as it’s not an IT guy. Or an engineer. What’s with all the engineers? I’m so tired of them. I dated an IT guy last week who was much more into his computer than he could ever be into me. Unless I turn into R2D2, he can’t be bothered.”
Harper and Brooke laughed.
“It’s true. He actually told me he had the hardware and I had the software. ‘Let’s talk binary.’”
“He meant have sex, right?” Brooke asked.
“Right. After hand gestures and sock puppets, I finally got it.”
“Did you give him a hand gesture?” Harper wiggled her eyebrows.
“No,” Poe laughed, “but I wanted to.”
“How was he in bed?”
“He gave good oracle.”
“Oh, God, Poe,” Harper said nudging Poe as she clutched her sides. “You are too much.”
“No, they are too much! I need a real man, a burly man, one who can build me things.” Poe raised her hands in the air and clenched her fists. “I look at some of these guys and ask myself, if the apocalypse happened tomorrow, could they protect me from the zombies?”
“You’re watching too many zombie movies, my friend,” Brooke said. “Besides, all you really need to worry about is bacon.”
Harper laughed. “Don’t get her started on bacon again.” Harper wagged her index finger. “I can’t watch those shows. They creep me out.” Harper shivered.
“Did he stay for breakfast?”
“Nope. He definitely wasn’t bacon-worthy.”
“Bacon worthy? Oh, God. She has a new measuring stick.” Harper said.
“Not just one. My new barometer now.” Poe opened one palm. “Zombie killer,” then the other palm. “Or zombie food. Which would you choose?” She raised her hands up in down in a balancing motion.
“I can’t lie. I do love the muscles,” Harper confessed. “I think there’s something about a working man. One who gets down into the grease and dirt and does an honest day’s work.”
Brooke nodded while thinking of Drew’s muscles.
“So, the hotsy totsy socialite likes the working man. How exactly would that work out?” Poe said, looking over Brooke’s shoulder as she sketched her ideas on paper. Poe scrunched up her face as she thought. “You’d pack his lunch for him and clean the penthouse while he was hauling and getting dirty all day?”
“Are you saying a socialite couldn’t be happy with a blue collar worker?” Harper asked, challenge in her voice.
Poe shrugged. “I’m saying you’re worlds apart. It would have to be a man who had, li
ke, balls of steel.”
“Ouch,” Brooke said looking up from her sketching.
Harper chuckled. “He would need to be confident. I don’t like wimps or, as you so elegantly put it, zombie food.”
“Yeah, but a poor zombie could starve to death if they had to live on the brains of some of the men in this city,” Poe said with a wry grin.
“My ancestors were hard-working men. They toiled every day to make the money their families needed.”
“Yes, and now you don’t have to work at all. Kinda ironic, if you ask me.”
“I guess it is. I never thought about it that way.”
Poe said, “Wow,” and motioned Harper over to Brooke’s sketchpad. “Look at what she’s doing. She’s designed dresses that exactly fit our personalities. This lattice work over the bodice is so Goth-like. I love it.”
Harper crowded in. “Geez, Brooke. You make me sick at how talented you are. That off-the shoulder dress with its empire waist is so me. Look how she’s used that lattice across the shoulder and the back, sexy and elegant. And, this one is yours, no doubt. Very Jackie O with a modern twist, and so stunning with the lattice over the skirt,” Harper said, tapping the sketchpad with her index finger.
“The contrasting colors are amazing. Love that the lattice on our dresses is the color of your dress and the lattice on your dress is the color of ours. Callie is going to adore these.” Poe nudged Harper. “You have to admit. It’s an admirable trait to work hard every day. Have you ever had a fling with a working-class guy?”
“No, I haven’t as of yet.”
“He’d probably think he won the freaking lottery.”
“That’s the trick. Finding a man not seduced by the money, but one hundred percent in love with me.”
“Good luck with that,” Poe said as Brooke rose to begin cutting the pattern for the dresses.
“I think that’s the trick for any relationship,” Brooke murmured.
“The money thing?”
“No, Poe, the love thing.”
Chapter Eleven
Drew opened the door after the first knock. He had actually been pacing in front of the door, thinking about going over to Brooke’s. But he wasn’t sure what her plans were, so he should probably just call her.
