Page 20 of Rushing Into Love

Brooklyn opened the door, then shut it behind her. Crossing the room, she sat on the bed.

“What’s up? Who was on the phone? Was it Mom?” Her eyes were wide with worry.

“No, not Mom. Way worse than Mom,” I assured her, flinging my hands out to the side in a demonstration of exactly how much worse it was.

“Who then?” she asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Pax?”

“Nope, haven’t heard from him,” I muttered, still pacing. “It was my assistant, Ally. Get this—she got me an interview onLA Today!”

“Sounds great!” Brooklyn said. “So what’s the issue?”

“The issue iswhatthe interview is about. They want me to talk about what it’s like dating a superstar, from the unique perspective of a dating expert. Which would be great if we were actually still dating. Which we’re not, seeing as how I dumped him before I left LA.”

“Ah.” Brooklyn nodded. “Thatisan issue. So don’t do it,” she said flatly. “Turn it down.”

“I could…” I said, “but Ally already confirmed the interview, so cancelling would look unprofessional. And this could be great for my career. I’ve been trying to get onLA Todayfor a really long time.” I paused, waiting for Brooks to tell me what to do.

“I see.” She nodded her head slowly, mulling it over.

We sat for a few minutes in silence, thinking.

“Well? Thoughts, suggestions, words of wisdom?” Brooks was always willing to put in her two cents. Or five.

She inhaled sharply and locked eyes with me. “You sure you want to hear what I have to say?”

“Yes!” I nodded my head, hoping she’d have a good solution. “Definitely.” I nibbled on an uneven nail, suddenly unsure.

“You should turn it down.”

I stared at her. Finally, I blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. And consider not going back to LA.” She leaned back against a pillow. “You could stay with us as long as you want.”

“Brooks,” I said slowly. “That’s kind of a dramatic response to one relationship gone awry.” I leveled my gaze at her.

She shook her head. “It’s not just that, Bree. You don’t seem very happy.”

“Psh,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “I’m totally happy. Well, content. Yes, I’m content.” I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

“Sure, your job gives you a certain level of satisfaction, but at the end of the day, you’re alone.”

“Not true!” I interrupted. “I have friends!”

“Fine. You have one or tworealfriends. Probably a bunch of Hollywood-type acquaintances. You’re busting your tail to survive in LA, when you could have a much better quality of life somewhere else—like Peachtree Grove.”

“I have clients, Brooks,” I pointed out. “People who count on me. I have a business. A successful business,” I added.

“And it’s portable,” she countered. “You could teleconference with your existing clients and then pick up new ones here. We’re not that far from Atlanta; you could even rent office space in the city.”

“I can’t just quit LA!” I cried, standing and pacing again. I was angry she’d even suggest it. I’d never toldhershe should quit her job, or move to another city, or pass up a huge career opportunity.

“It’s not quitting,” she pointed out in a quiet, but firm voice. “It’s moving on. That’s not a bad thing, Bree. You went out there, you did it. You’re successful. You’ve more than proven yourself. Isn’t that enough?”

Anger welled up inside me at her words. What made her a life coach all of a sudden?

“For your information, Ilikeit in LA. I’m good there,” I said, shooting her a withering look, hands on my hips. “I’m going for a run.”

“Really?” She squinted down at my black-and-blue knee.

---