Jessica smiled, and a jolt of something powerful moved through her at the memory.
Right.
So I’ll see you around.
Take care.
She’d accomplished what she’d set out to do, gathered a little closure, and put things back in place in the event of any future run-ins.
It was a win-win.
Now to grab her six hours before heading back into the office.
*
It was close to midnight when Brooklyn stepped into the shower. She let the hot water run across her body and work its wondrous magic. God, it felt fabulous. The effects of the highly stressful day began to fall off her slowly but surely. But her mind wasn’t quite to that parallel state of Zen. Instead, she was preoccupied with a lot of things. Work. The purple Post-it, the text exchange with Jessica. What had prompted that exactly? Was there some sort of ulterior motive she should be on the lookout for? Because that first message had completely blindsided her.
Then again, that seemed to happen a lot where Jessica was concerned. Why would she expect anything less?
In all fairness, it had seemed like a good-faith effort to smooth things over between them, which was somewhat out of character for the woman her friends described. But not so much for the woman she’d gotten to know that night at Puzzles. Maybe the truth lay somewhere in between.
So they’d be cordial, at least on a professional level. She could handle that. As foolish as she’d felt earlier that day in the face of her best friends, a part of her had wondered about Jessica’s take on the whole thing. She claimed no knowledge of Brooklyn’s Savvy affiliation the night they met, and she would give her the benefit of the doubt.
As she slipped into a T-shirt for bed, her gaze fell to the purple square that sat atop her dresser. Cynthia Mathis and that little Post-it note weren’t going away no matter how much she wished they would. The concept of whether to contact her mother had weighed heavily on her the past week, despite her busy schedule.
Yet, she’d still told only one person about the phone call.
She touched the paper, somehow needing to feel it in her hand. She carried it reverently to bed with her and set it next to her on the bedside table.
As she drifted off to sleep, Jessica’s words echoed in her head.
“You don’t have to beat yourself up for being curious. And it doesn’t make you weak in the slightest.”
Chapter Five
“Grab whatever you need. We’re headed back to Foster’s,” Mallory called out, intercepting her the second she arrived at the office.
“Huh? I haven’t even had any coffee. People can die if they don’t have coffee.”
“We’ll hit Starbucks on the way.” At Brooklyn’s admonishing stare, she amended that thought. “Dean and Deluca on Prince Street, then. But we have to hurry. They’re expecting us at nine, and Savvy is never late for an appointment.”
Brooklyn followed Mallory back to the elevator, offering Samantha and Hunter a wave and a curious look as she left. They would have to cover the rest of the morning’s client calls. Good thing she’d dressed the part. “I don’t understand. Why are we going back exactly?”
Mallory shook her head slightly. “They want to speak to us again. That’s about all I got.”
“This has to be good, right? They don’t set up an entire meeting just to tell you that you didn’t get the gig.”
She flashed a smile. “That’s what I was thinking. Things are definitely looking up.”
But they seemed to be anything but when they arrived in the Foster lobby a short time later to find The Lennox Group waiting there too. The same three as the first time, and Brooklyn deflated a little at the sight. Mallory, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. “Jessica,” she said, and strolled over to her. “We didn’t expect to see you here this morning.”
Jessica shot the good-looking guy next to her, Bentley something or other, a questioning glance before standing to meet Mallory. “Likewise.”
“You were invited?”
“We were.”
“Fabulous.”
“Isn’t it?”
Yikes. All kinds of unspoken tension filled the room, and Brooklyn found it wildly uncomfortable. She interjected. “Why don’t we all take a seat and wait for further details?”
Jessica smiled at her conservatively and nodded once in acquiescence. They sat in silence, the five of them, as time seemed to crawl by. Brooklyn did what she so often did when left on her own with little to do; she studied the room, taking note of a lot of things. Spacious. Maroon wallpaper with tiny flecks of gold. Impressive crown molding. Oh, and look at that. A formal portrait of an old guy. She’d bet fifty bucks his last name was Foster. Her gaze shifted. The receptionist tic-tacked away on her keyboard to the right. Geez, she could type fast. Her eyes continued their drift. Jessica was wearing a killer pantsuit. She was guessing designer. Prada, probably. Her eyes moved upward to the pink dress shirt beneath the tapered jacket. She’d left the top two buttons open, and the olive skin peeking out looked flawlessly smooth. She wondered what it tasted like. How warm it would feel to the touch. Her gaze dipped lower, and her breath caught at the perfect curvature of Jessica’s—
“Good morning, ladies and gentleman. Thank you so much for joining us. If you’ll follow me to the conference room, we have an array of beverages and breakfast pastries for your enjoyment.” Like a loud record-player scratch, she was pulled abruptly from her decadent thoughts at the sight of Royce Foster. It seems someone’s had his coffee today. She stood along with the others, letting The Lennox Group go first. But Jessica lingered a beat longer than the rest and tossed her an amused stare as she passed.
Busted.
She felt the color hit her cheeks but stared straight ahead, following the rest of the group into the conference room. Play if off, she told herself. No naked fantasies happening here. No, sir.
Once they were seated around the table, Royce invited his colleague, Jasmine Huntington, to address the group. Brooklyn remembered her from the presentation. She’d seemed responsive to their pitch.
“You’re probably quite curious as to why we’ve invited both groups back today.” She smiled at the collective nodding. “Quite frankly, we met with more than a few agencies looking for that perfect fit. Soho Savvy and The Lennox Group were our top contenders. Both came in with impressive presentations and exciting credentials. In all honesty, you each have a portion of what we’re looking for, but we’re not ready to make an exclusive decision just yet. As you know, whichever agency receives our business will be handling the advertising for a large number of our products and will be working very closely with our executive staff. We need to be sure the fit is there.”
Brooklyn hoped Mallory understood where this was going, because honestly, she had no clue. Royce Foster was known for irreverent practices. Some called him an innovative businessman, which left the door standing wide open for whatever he was about to say. She held her breath.
“In response to what we’ve seen, we’d like to offer you each a three-month pilot contract with us. In essence, both groups would work with our in-house staff on ad campaigns for a variety of products and go head-to-head, in a sense. You’ll be fully compensated for the work you do. And at the end of the pilot, we’ll offer a long-term contract to the company that best meets our needs.”
Wow. Okay. This was completely out of left field. A head-to-head pilot? Things like that just didn’t happen all that often. They were distant stories people told at cocktail parties. But Savvy hadn’t lost the account, she reminded herself. So in a sense, it was good and bad news.
“When would we begin?” Mallory asked. She already had her game face on and was ready for whatever the next step would be.
“As soon as the ink is dry on the paperwork.”
“Where do we sign?” Jessica laughed. A very professional, controlled laugh, she might add. It didn’t sound like the laugh she remembered at all, and she’d be lying if she said that didn’t
unsettle her.
Jessica accepted the paperwork she was handed. Of course, she’d have her in-house legal team look it over before signing anything, but she was anxious to spend some time going over the feedback from the presentation.
On her way out, she paused next to where Brooklyn and Mallory sat at the table and extended her hand. “May the best team win.”
Mallory accepted the handshake, followed by Brooklyn, who smiled up at her. “This could actually be fun.”
It stuck with her, that comment. It was so incredibly Brooklyn. Here she was filled to the brim with tension and already trying to figure out how to steal this thing, and Brooklyn characterizes her own take in one simple word. Fun. And her eyes communicated the sincerity of the sentiment. Geez, what was it about this girl that always seemed to grab her attention and wouldn’t let go? It was one damn night, and very little had actually happened between them. The allure was temporary, she pointed out to herself. Brooklyn Campbell was just a distraction. A novelty. Eventually she would get bored and move on to more important matters than the pretty competition with the cute quips.
“Wow,” Bentley said, matching her stride as they spilled out onto West Seventy-third. The street was crowded with people moving in both directions, dodging one another to make it across the street before the light changed.
“I know. I didn’t see that one coming either. But we can handle this. This account is ours, as they don’t know what they’re up against.”
Bentley laughed as they crossed the street. “The pilot? Of course it’s ours. It’s laughable to think otherwise. But I was actually talking about the eye-catching Ms. Campbell. I see now why she caught your attention.”
Tina offered her a curious glance, which she brushed off and focused hard-core on the street ahead of her. “It’s a moot point. It’s not even worth our energy to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but still. She’s a head turner, Jess. And so is her brunette friend. Maybe we could double-date.” His eyebrows bounced and Jessica couldn’t take any more. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to him.
“So not appropriate. Yes, Brooklyn’s an attractive woman. But that is not at all the main idea right now and not even close to what we should be discussing. Lots of work ahead of us, Bent. Lots.”
They walked in silence for a moment before Tina finally chimed in. “Well, I for one don’t care what they look like. They’re going down.”
Jessica stared at her. “Now that’s the kind of fire I’m talking about.”
*
Someone was knocking at the door. It took Jessica a sec to register because she was so immersed in next month’s budget laid out in front of her. She checked the clock. It was a little after ten. Geez, time had gotten away from her, which wasn’t actually unusual. She’d started going over the numbers just before eight.
“Hiya, Jess,” Ashton said when she opened the door. “Sorry about the time, but I had a feeling you were up.” She was holding a bowl. The Colemans, a mother-and-daughter combo, were Jessica’s next-door neighbors and the only other inhabitants of the floor. Ashton Coleman was fifteen and her most frequent visitor. Well, really her only visitor other than Bentley. In good news, she was pretty good company. She was a semi-trendy type who let her strawberry-blond hair fall where it may. Her fashion sense was laid-back teenager, which pretty much meant Chuck Taylors, scarves, and bracelets. Make that lots and lots of bracelets. She was like a mobile boutique.
“Hey, kiddo. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to see if you had any milk. I was going to have some cereal, but I don’t think my mom put in the grocery order. Sometimes she forgets. You know how it is.”
She did. It was typical actually. Ashton’s Mom, Karina, was the glamorous type who must have been independently wealthy, as she didn’t seem to hold down any sort of job. She lived the high life 24/7 but had shown herself to be notoriously irresponsible and never there for her kid, who happened to be pretty great.
“Yeah, let’s see what I can rustle up. Follow me.”
Ashton lifted Jessica’s file folder as she rounded the Silestone countertop. “I see you’re having tons of fun per usual. You need a social life, Jess. You never do anything fun.”
She snatched the folder back and bopped Ashton on the head with it. “Some of us have to work for a living. One day that will be you. Gear up.”
“Should I do my backflip now or later?”
“Funny. You’re very funny.” She turned back. “Voilà. Your requested milk. Do you want to pour, or shall I?”
Ashton took the carton. “I got this.”
As Jessica straightened the papers that cluttered the island, she stole a glance at Ashton. Despite the bravado, she seemed a little off. She had a sinking feeling and her heart ached for the kid. “Your mom out of town again?”
Ashton forced a smile. “Yeah. The Hamptons with her boyfriend. She’ll be back in a couple of days, though. No biggie.”
Unfortunately, this was standard. But it made Jessica furious. Yes, Ashton was mature for her age, but you don’t leave a fifteen-year-old on her own for three days, even if the building is full service. The poor girl was lonely, that much was clear.
“You doing okay?”
Ashton nodded. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. Just, you know, the milk snag.”
Jessica knew better but decided not to push it. “Wanna stick around and play a little one-on-one? I could use the distraction.”
That did it. Ashton lit up instantly. “Okay. I mean, only if you have time.”
“I do. You get it set up. I’ll change out of my suit and into regular people clothes.”
“Meet you on the floor.”
For the next hour, she and Ashton went head-to-head in multiplayer Black Ops 2, complete with the totally necessary headsets.
“You’re going down,” Jess muttered. But Ashton’s guy was slowly gaining on her.
“Only because you’re screen cheating. Hey, watch it,” Ashton called out.
“Seriously? You’re calling me for screen cheating when you’re the world’s most notorious camper? Some of us play the game with skill factored in. I know that’s hard for you to imagine.”
“Move. Ahhh, damn it. You just wish you had my stats.”
“I’d rather just be a good player,” Jessica fired back.
“Keep dreamin’.”
The game was intense, as always, and made Jessica forget the real world for a while. Carefree. That’s how she felt. She had to admit, she loved their Black Ops sessions. Ashton had introduced her to the game once upon a time, and it’d stuck. Eventually, she’d even invested in her own system. It was a little-known secret about her and, okay, a tad out of character. But that’s why it was fun. What would her employees think if they knew their take-no-prisoners CEO relished her time in front of the Xbox?
Once they’d both met their end, Ashton dropped the controller. “I’m out. School tomorrow, and English homework awaits. Thanks for the game. Oh, and the milk.”
“Take the rest with you.”
She paused and studied the carton. “Seriously?”
She ruffled the kid’s hair, purposefully messing it up. “Yeah, I’ll grab another carton tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”
Jessica laughed. “Not necessary. And Ashton?” She looked back over her shoulder. “Just knock if you need anything. I’m right here.”
She smiled and this time it was sincere. “Thanks. You’re a cool neighbor. I mean, nobody’s ever…ah.” She shook her head. “Just, you know, thanks.”
And she did know. “Anytime.”
*
Brooklyn sat on a bar stool and studied Samantha from across the living room. “I have a What Would You Do for you.”
She looked up excitedly from the issue of Money Market Magazine she was reading on the couch. Only Sam got jazzed about reading a bunch of financial projections. “Ohhh. I love What Would You Do.”
“I know this about you.”
“Okay, ask me. Ask me what I would do.” She was grinning like a kid, which endeared her to Brooklyn that much more. Sam was a keeper.
“If you’d never met your mother and then, out of the blue, found out she was interested in getting in contact with you, how would you react?”
Samantha stared at her, her jaw slack as if she’d just told her the Republicans were surrendering the Senate. “I’m calling a Midnight Chocolate. I’ll let Hunter and Mallory know.”
Brooklyn drew in air and stood. “Totally not necessary. I just wanted to bounce the concept off you. See what you thought.”
But Samantha was in front of her before she could argue further. “This is big, and that’s what Midnight Chocolate is for. Your mother wants to meet?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m ready—”
“Look at me. The three of us are your best friends. You don’t have to be ready. You just have to be you. Midnight Chocolate can solve any problem life throws our way. Proven fact. Has it ever failed us before?”
Brooklyn considered the question. “No.”
“Settled. I’m calling Mal and Hunter. Check the cabinet and see what we have in the way of reinforcements. And chocolate-chip cookies totally count. Ohhh, and ice cream. Grab the mint chocolate chunk because it’s my favorite and I’m in charge.”
Brooklyn was suddenly apprehensive. “So we’re doing this? I don’t want to make it a big deal.”
Samantha met her eyes sincerely, in a way that communicated their years of friendship. “We’re doing this. Because it is.”
Brooklyn nodded and swallowed the further protest on the tip of her tongue.
Forty-five minutes later, Mallory and Hunter arrived, and not long after they were lounging around the living room in pajama pants, the absolute required dress code for Midnight Chocolate. Spread across the coffee table were malted-milk balls, chocolate-chip cookies, Oreos, the ice cream Samantha had requested, and, of course, extra hot fudge to top it with.
Kiss the Girl Page 6
