Page 5 of Filthy Rich

I could tell Herman was absolutely horrified by my outburst, the poor man. I heard it in his voice. Awesome! I’d freaked out a sweet old man, and the day was barely underway. I’dbet money he’d go straight to my nan and tell her about it the minute he returned from his meeting in the city. Then she would be worried. And she didn’t need to be worrying about me right now as she healed from her knee replacement. I was fine. And nothing would change the past no matter what people said or didn’t say to me. The whole experience of grief was rather an unending cycle, and so damn exhausting; I just wanted off the ride at this point.

I shook my head and stared down at the decking below my feet. “It’s okay, please. This happens to me sometimes and I—do this—” I used my knuckle to brush away a tear and took in a slow, deep breath to help bring my emotions back down to a functional level. “I’ll be fine. Sorry, Herman.”

“Don’t you apologize to me when you’ve every right to grieve,” he scolded. Then he presented a pristine white handkerchief to my hands. I took it gratefully as Herman drew his arm around me and pulled me in against his shoulder. The soft leather of his jacket cushioned my cheek as I accepted his offered comfort. “Of course you’ll be fine, Brooke. You have your whole life ahead of you and wonderful things will come, you’ll see.”

We stood like that and watched the island grow smaller and smaller until the ferry turned southward and she slipped out of sight. I knew I’d be back to this same exact spot in the ocean when I returned on the five thirty after work. I’d wait for that moment when the island appeared on the horizon, after the captain made his northward turn. I’d breathe a sigh of relief when she came into view, and my heart would settle. It was a weird ritual with me, but it happened every time I came and went from Blackstone Island. It hurt a little to leave her each time, but the tiny thrill I experienced when I returned had never failed me, either. The safety of the island provided sanctuary for my troubled heart.

As I pulled myself together and indulged in my Zen moment with Herman, I thought about what he’d said...about wonderful things were ahead for me.

I wanted it to be true.

I so wanted it to be true.

Three

BROOKE

Harris & Goode was tucked away on Hereford Street where it was a bit quieter from the foot traffic Newbury Street enjoyed. It didn’t matter the location was quieter, though, because clients looking to hire a designer in this neighborhood usually weren’t walk-ins. The interior design business relied on word of mouth, but mostly the coveted referrals from prior clients to their friends with the money to pay for such services.

When I felt like walking, I got off at the Copley Station and followed Newbury Street down to where I worked. If the weather was unpleasant, I took Hynes because it was a lot closer. Today wasn’t unpleasant, though. A sunny and dry autumn day was always appreciated.

My small emotional breakdown on the ferry this morning with Herman had strangely helped.

In a way.

So I let my guard down and remembered my sadness for a moment.

I’d become emotional.

I’d cried and scared poor Herman.

But we both survived it, and when the flurry of my sadness had passed, I’d felt much better. And I think Herman did as well. It wouldn’t be weird when we saw each other next time because now we’d sealed our friendship. That, as I pondered further, was a good thing.

I stopped at Starbucks to repair my makeup, and more importantly to supply my coffee addiction, before heading inside Harris & Goode at the next doorway. God, I loved that we had a Starbucks next door. One of the nicest perks about my job. There was a queue for the loo so I checked my messages while I waited. The one from Martin was unexpected. He wanted me to work a reception cocktail party this evening, six to nine.

My side job serving for Jonquil Catering was not my favorite, but it paid pretty well when I could fit a job in. I loved working at Harris & Goode, designing rooms for clients based on their visions, but couldn’t quite make the ends meet on a junior designer’s salary. Not yet anyway. So I took jobs serving on weekends and eveningsifI had proper notice. Nine hours wasn’t enough time for me to arrange anything, and Martin knew that. I had to have a place to stay the night for one thing, because the last ferry left the dock at eight thirty p.m. on the dot, and if I wasn’t on it, then I was stuck in Boston for the night. I’d stay over with Zoe, but my friend was out of town for her sister’s wedding for at least another week. I didn’t have clothes for the following day of work at Harris & Goode or my black-and-whites for serving. There was no way I could work for Martin tonight.

I texted him my reply:

Sorry, can’t do, Martin. I’m already on the mainland for the day. I need some notice to arrange where to stay, clothes etc. –B

He’d be pissy with me now, but what could I do about it? Living on an island made for some challenges and I couldn’t control the ferry schedule. There wasn’t a lot of demand for a boat to Blackstone Island in the middle of the night.

I fixed my face in the mirror at Starbucks and thought I’d pass for normal. If Eduardo didn’t notice I’d been crying, then I’d call the whole thing a success. Straight blonde hair and very light brown eyes—that I’d been told were amber—had been inherited from my mum. Nan reminded me frequently that I looked just like her. I thought my mum had been very beautiful, so when Nan told me I could be Mum’s twin, it made me feel good inside.

I studied myself thoughtfully and came to the conclusion that I didn’t look bad, just a bit...sad.

Because I was.

It was no coincidence my favorite character from the movieInside Outwas Sadness. She was necessary—an important part of your life—and if you tried to keep Sadness out completely, and didn’t let her in once in a while, then the rest of the parts of you started to break down from the pressure of trying to deny yourself the right to be sad. It all made total sense to me. Maybe I’d watch it tonight after I visited Nan at physical therapy.

“Good morning!” Eduardo lambasted me with his standard greeting. “Looking very sexy today,micondesa. Those boots are screaming ‘do me ’til I can’t take it anymore’ you know.”

I set my coffee down on the reception counter and unbuttoned my coat. “Good morning to you, too, and they are not screaming anything of the kind.”

“They so are, darling. I bet you didn’t notice the hunk in the sunglasses checking you out either, hmm?” Eduardo waved toward the full-glass front doors of the building where a “hunk” was indeed peering in as he took a call. Six-two, maybe six-three, with dark hair, a very nice wool coat in camel overan expensive gray suit, and aviator sunglasses was all I could make out through the window. But even through the glass and shadows, his handsomeness was apparent. There were men like him everywhere in Boston’s business center, though. I saw them every day, hurrying from one corporate deal to another. Trying to get ahead just like everyone else.

“He’s talking on his phone, Eduardo, not looking at me, you tit-head.”

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