Mallory snagged an Oreo and took a bite, melting into its goodness. “God, we haven’t had Midnight Chocolate in months. I think I really needed this. Not necessarily my waistline, but my soul.”
“So what inspired this one, as in what’s the dilemma du jour?” Hunter asked Samantha. “I ended a date for this, and damn it if I’m not going to solve a major crisis in the world to make that worthwhile.”
Samantha slid Brooklyn a look. “I think you’re on.”
Brooklyn sighed and decided to just blurt it out as fast as possible. Rip the Band-Aid right off. “The woman who gave birth to me wants to talk. Or meet. Maybe both. I don’t know where to go with that. There, I said it.”
A pause as the dust settled.
“Oh, sweetie.” Mallory moved to sit next to Brooklyn. “Are you okay? When did this happen?”
“Last week.”
“Last week?” Hunter swatted Brooklyn’s shin, incredulous. “And you’re just now getting around to saying—” And then realization hit. “It was the day we were storyboarding, wasn’t it? That was the call you took. You were white as a marshmallow.”
Brooklyn quirked her head at the odd imagery. “Right. It blindsided me, hence the…marshmallow impersonation.”
“What are you going to do?” Mallory asked.
“I go back and forth. What if she’s horrible and I can’t stand her?”
Samantha tilted her head. “What if she’s not?”
Brooklyn thought about the very valid point, then raised her eyes back to her friends and made a decision. “When I was eleven, I was sent to my fourth foster home. The worst one. God, it was a horrific place.” She covered her eyes briefly at the memory. “Kids everywhere. Very little food and lots of discipline. I would seek out any opportunity to sit by myself and daydream about what my real parents were like. My real mom was the PTA type, I decided. She’d send cookies and cakes for the school’s bake sale like I saw other kids’ parents do. She had blond hair, like me, and liked to watch Days of Our Lives. Sometimes she’d let me watch it with her and explain who the characters were. She was kind too. She helped me with my homework and made lasagna for dinner because she knew my dad and I liked it.”
She stole a glance at her friends, who were all listening intently to the description. Their eyes held sympathy, which made her suddenly aware of the tears trailing down her own cheeks, but it wasn’t like she could stop now. She was too far in. “In my world, my dad worked at an office and read the paper. He took our dog, a yellow Lab, for a walk when he got home each evening. Sometimes I’d go along and tell him about my day. He was a great listener. He’d call me Pumpkin and put one arm around my shoulders and squeeze. And for a little while, as I sat there by myself, I got to feel what it might be like to have someone love me.”
Brooklyn raised her shoulder and let it fall. “Those kind of daydreams mattered to me. Do you understand? That make-believe family got me through the rough spots. And the beauty of it was, there was nothing anyone could do to take them away from me. Until now.”
Samantha had tears in her eyes and she nodded, squeezing Brooklyn’s hand. “You don’t have to do this. There’s no rule that says you have to upend your life.”
“I know. But I also think I probably should follow through. There’s a part of me that needs to know, that needs answers to questions I’ve always had.”
“We’re here for you, Brooks,” Hunter said. “And whatever you find out isn’t going to change who you are, or the fact that you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, who I happen to love, by the way.”
Brooklyn smiled through the emotion. She had a lump in her throat for a whole new reason, gratitude. She really did have some of the greatest friends ever. “I love you guys too. And ever since I’ve met you, I really do feel like I belong to a family. For the first time. And that’s everything.”
Mallory nodded. “Because you do.”
“Yep,” Samantha added. “And you’re stuck with us. No matter how bossy Mallory is. Or how many women Hunter goes through in a year.”
Hunter glared at her. “She forgot to throw in her obsession with puppy calendars.”
Brooklyn laughed. “Right. Can’t forget that.” She took a bite of her ice cream as her thoughts shifted. “At least she’s not in jail. My mother. I cross-referenced the phone number, a Connecticut area code, to all the nearby penitentiaries.”
“Very thorough of you,” Mallory said.
“I learned from the obsessive,” Brooklyn answered, grinning.
Mal studied her. “There’s bound to be a compliment in there somewhere. Will someone pass me the hot fudge while I attempt to find it?”
It had been a good idea, the Midnight Chocolate. Letting her walls down, even for a short time, felt like a much-needed release. She didn’t talk about the details of her childhood all that often, and while she was a little shocked at herself for providing them with the details of her fantasy family, she was a little proud of herself for doing it too.
Brooklyn had gone through her entire life with one motto playing in the background as if it were on a recorded loop in her head: Never let yourself need anyone. And while she still hadn’t found a way to shut it off, nor was she sure she wanted to, she was able to slowly start making exceptions.
Hunter, Samantha, and Mallory were necessary. She needed them.
It was a welcome revelation.
Chapter Six
“Can I offer you some coffee while you wait?” the receptionist asked.
Brooklyn smiled. “No, thank you.”
As she sat in the waiting room of Foster Foods, she wondered, once again, why she hadn’t planned for the ridiculous cold of this place. Her knee bounced up and down in response to the chill and, well, maybe a little excitement.
She’d be taking this meeting on her own.
In what was shocking news to her, she was a favorite of the executives. According to their notes, her enthusiasm had been the highlight of the presentation. They’d found her competent and endearing. That had pretty much sealed it with Mallory, and Brooklyn was assigned to be their front person on the pilot. She’d never been the front person before. It was Mallory’s gig. She, on the other hand, sat in a room and came up with ideas. That was her gig.
But she could do this. She was prepared to give them her best, and Mallory had prepped her well.
When Jessica joined her in the waiting room several minutes later, they exchanged a smile but nothing more. She wore a navy-blue suit today. A pencil skirt instead of pants this time. It was a good look on her. Wow. Really good, actually. Stop that, she chastised herself. Not appropriate.
The executives would meet with both of them that afternoon. At first together to go over the details of the first product they’d be working on and then separately for an individual consultation.
“How was your week?”
Jessica’s question caught Brooklyn off guard. She didn’t imagine they’d hang out while they waited. But yeah, okay. She could be friendly. Competition or not.
“It was great. Yours?”
“Busy.”
“Yeah. I can imagine.”
Silence.
This felt weird. Why were they being weird? Because when you make out with someone, tell them personal things about yourself and then try to revert to pleasantries while at the same time you’re still wildly attracted to them, it didn’t quite work. That’s why. It was like trying to get toothpaste back in the tube.
Jessica must have felt the same way. “This is completely awkward, isn’t it?”
She blew out a breath. “In the worst way, which is what we were trying to avoid.”
“Can we just decide that it won’t be? My guess is that we’re going to see each other a lot in regards to this account.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be kind of cutthroat?”
“And ruthless. Don’t forget ruthless.”
Brooklyn couldn’t help but smile because that just wasn’t the vibe she was getting.
“Okay, then. Let’s tear through all of this right now. I’ve heard quite a few rumors about you.”
“Try me.”
“I plan to.”
“Ready when you are.”
“Amid the many Jessica Lennox tidbits circulating is the one about your rich husband who cherry-picks your accounts for you using his elite connections in the business world.”
Jessica nodded, unfazed. “That one’s my favorite, I think. It would certainly make my life less complicated. But as we’ve already discussed, I’ve never been married. I’m woeful and alone. See?” She pointed at her face, which she made appropriately sorrowful.
Brooklyn laughed. “Yeah. I don’t believe that for a second. The lonely part.”
“It’s true. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Have you seen yourself?”
Jessica paused at the compliment and caught the blush that touched Brooklyn’s cheeks after she’d said it.
“I just mean…” Another pause. She watched Brooklyn attempt to recover. It was adorable. She was. “I wouldn’t imagine you have much trouble attracting the attention of others.”
Jessica feigned confusion. “Hmmm. I’m not following you.”
Brooklyn opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, seeming to fumble with where she wanted to go. Finally, she sighed in defeat and sat back in her chair. “Okay, fine. You’re gorgeous. You must know you are.”
Jessica smiled. “Thank you. But, no, it’s not something I hear all that often.”
“If you say so.”
Brooklyn went back to perusing the papers in her leather-bound portfolio, which gave Jessica a chance to study her. She wore mostly black today, but her pumps had this streak of bright green running through them. Edgy. She had her hair up in some sort of twist that she still managed to make contemporary and cool. If she tried something like that, it would come off serious and severe. She was definitely missing the hip factor.
But Brooklyn had it down pat.
It was sexy. Her vibe. Her look. The streak of green on her shoe. She pictured that hair tumbling down around her shoulders if she were to reach out and free it from the pins that held it in place. Now that would be a visual she’d carry with her the rest of the day. She’d push her hands into that hair and—
“What’s that look for?”
Jessica blinked. “What look?”
“That faraway-in-dreamland thing you’re doing over there.”
She sat up straighter. “Groceries. Making a mental list.” She pointed halfheartedly to her head. “It’s a…thing I do.”
Brooklyn nodded. “Those must be some pretty great groceries.”
“They are. Most definitely.”
*
“How’d it go?” Sam asked as they ate lunch at the office later that day.
“Great. They want us to start working up some ideas for Foster’s Extra Crunchy Peanut Butter. I’m going to pitch Sandra, the exec in charge of all-things-peanut-butter, next week.”
Hunter joined them. “They have an exec in charge of peanut butter?”
“They do.”
“How do I get that job?”
“You don’t need that job,” Samantha said. “As the money girl, I’m sure we could arrange for compensation in peanut butter come payday.”
Hunter looked skyward in contemplation. “I’m not against this.”
Brooklyn shook her head. “I hate that you can eat whatever the hell you want and never gain an ounce.”
“I hate you for this too, by the way,” Samantha added. “Pencil me in on the hatred.”
Hunter just shrugged and smiled, her fit frame and olive skin of beauty and wonder suddenly under the spotlight. Brooklyn got why girls flocked to Hunter whenever they went out. Today, she’d pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail that made her look tough and sexy at the same time. Brooklyn was taking notes.
“Well, as far as peanut butter goes, you’re in luck because Foster sent me home with a case of the stuff. Good thing I drove there.”
Samantha placed a hand on her forearm. “Good for who? Did you kill anyone on the way?”
Brooklyn deadpanned. “You really have to find a new joke.”
In that moment, Mallory skated open the door to the loft and abruptly dropped her briefcase inside. “Anybody want a Hazelnut Macchiato masquerading as an Almond Latte?”
Hunter accepted the cup with the Starbucks logo as Mallory breezed past them to her desk, already flipping through the messages she found there.
Brooklyn followed her. “My God, Mal, you have to stop going there. It’s just getting sad.”
Mallory glanced up at her. “Then they win.”
“News flash. This is not Russia. You’re not in a cold war with Starbucks.”
Mallory blew out a breath. “I wish someone would tell them that. I went to the one two blocks down this time. I’m pretty sure they’ve circulated my photo. How’d it go today?”
“Great. I e-mailed you the high points and the details of our newest task. Peanut butter. Extra crunchy.”
“Yum. I read your notes on the train. Just wanted to hear from you. Who did The Lennox Group send over?”
“Jessica Lennox.”
Mallory straightened. “Handling this one herself, it seems. Did she say anything to you?”
“We chatted while we waited.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You guys are chatting now? About what?”
“I don’t know. Her grocery list. The fact that we don’t want things to be awkward between us if we’re going to be sitting in a million waiting rooms together. It’s possible I told her she was gorgeous. Total accident.”
Mallory’s mouth fell open. “You’re flirting with her? Brooks, you cannot fall for her charm. She’s playing you. This is competition, and when it comes to competition, she’ll do whatever it takes. That includes distracting you. You cannot take checkers to a game of chess.”
Ouch. The words hit hard. “Um, okay. But I don’t think that’s what I was doing. The checkers thing.”
“Mallory’s right,” Samantha said. “I don’t want to give you a hard time, but from a business perspective, it’s not smart to let your guard down around her.”
“No, that’s true. I completely agree. But I need for you guys to trust me and understand that I can handle myself. Savvy is my number-one priority, and I’m not going to let anyone or anything get in the way of landing this account. Do you understand that?”
Mallory sat down. “We do trust you. That’s not the issue. But sometimes you make reckless decisions, and that’s a bigger concern.”
Brooklyn was floored. Anger flared up within her. “Excuse me?”
“Did I or did I not have to take you to a car-impoundment lot in Queens last week?”
Brooklyn glared at her. “You didn’t have a problem with it at the time.”
“Because it’s what I’ve come to expect.”
“Wow. Okay. So I’m the screwup around here. Got it. Now I know my part.”
Hunter chimed in. “She didn’t exactly say that.”
“Not exactly. No. But she didn’t have to.” Brooklyn turned and gathered her things from her own desk. “I think I’m going to work upstairs so I can screw up in the privacy of my own apartment.”
Samantha stood as she passed. “Brooks, hang on a sec. What just happened here?”
“Well, let’s see if I can recount it for you. Mal is getting her bitch on and I’m reckless. I think that about covers it. See you guys later.”
As Brooklyn stepped onto the elevator, she was already experiencing the bubbling of self-recrimination. Damn it, why couldn’t she stand strong?
Because she’d reacted badly. Correction, overreacted.
Where in the world had that come from? As her blood pressure descended from its crazy heights, she was left with the embarrassment one hated to be left with. Whatever. She would lock herself away in her room, work her ass off, and come up with the best campaign for peanut butter the world had ever see
n.
A couple of hours later she was actually onto something workable. She was in the zone. And when she found herself in the zone, her thoughts sped up and the world around her disappeared. It was her favorite state of being. However, the sound of a sharp knock on the loft door brought her careening back to the land of the present. As she pulled the door back, she was met with a most puzzling sight. A paper towel on the end of a pencil.
And then she understood.
She peered around the corner to locate the waver. Mallory offered a tentative smile. “I thought it was creative.”
Brooklyn nodded. “Definite bonus points.” She drew in a breath. “I should have one of my own, though. Sorry for the royal freak-out earlier. Rough week. That’s about the only explanation I have.”
“We’re all stressed. We just shouldn’t take it out on each other.” Mallory leaned against the doorjamb. “I trust your judgment. I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise, and the car jab was unnecessary. I like how passionate you are about your driving. As for Jessica Lennox, that’s only me looking out for you. Sometimes, when attraction’s involved, it’s hard to see the forest for the trees. I’m just trying to offer you the perspective you might be missing. She doesn’t have our best interest at heart. Of that, I’m positive.”
Brooklyn nodded because it made sense and that was a perfect analogy for how she felt. “You’re right. I can’t see the situation as objectively as I’d like. I will make sure I never fully let my guard down around her, if you promise to cut me a little slack and trust me to handle things.”
Mallory nodded. “I can live with this deal.”
Brooklyn pulled her into a hug. “I think the referee rang the bell.”
“Fight’s over?”
She smiled. “Well, until the next round.”
*
Jessica passed a sideways look to Patrick, her doorman, as she waited in front of her building for her car service. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”
He thought on it and answered in his typical monotone. “I give up, Ms. Lennox.”
“Okay. But you didn’t even try.” She stared straight ahead but couldn’t hold back the smile. “An investigator.”
Kiss the Girl Page 7
