Page 98 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
I watch for a few more minutes, until Mark tells his students to try the problem he put on the board. He encourages them to work together, which prompts several inhalations of helium as they jump into discussions. Then he wanders over to the door where I’ve failed to remain hidden.
“Interesting technique,” I say with a smile.
He blushes. Blushes! “Torres started it,” he mutters, hands back in his pockets. “Nearly sent him to Cheng again when he convinced the rest of them to try it, but some of these kids usually never say a word in class.” His eyebrows pull low as he looks over the students as they work out the problem with smiles on their faces.
“Sometimes you have to make things fun for it to stick,” I tell him, even if he’s been teaching way longer than I have. “It’s nice to see my noble gasses lesson from a couple of weeks ago sank in.” Though, they really shouldn’t breathe in too much of the helium unless they want to pass out from oxygen deficiency. This is what I get for demonstrating the hilarious effects of helium on the vocal cords.
“Mr. DeNiro?”
As Mark heads over to help his student, I catch Mateo’s eye. Though he’s not working on the problem with the others, he seems incredibly pleased about the direction the class has gone. He grins at me with a look that seems to say, “I told you he would be fine.”
I head back to my classroom with a huge smile on my face. My prank turned out better than I could have planned, and I feel more like myself than I have in years.
Conclusion: Jordan absolutely makes everything better.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jordan
How did I go fromoverworking myself to barely doing anything with my company at all? Houston. That’s how. For some reason, he thinks he needs to step into my life and take control because I’m not living it well enough, which means Monday afternoon I’m knocking on his neighbor’s door because I really don’t know how to say no to the guy.
Darcy opens the door slowly, like she’s unsure what she wants to find on the other side, but she relaxes as soon as she sees me. “It’s you.”
I offer a crooked smile and a shrug, glad that she answered the door instead of her brother, who is huge and terrifying. “It’s me. I brought some light bulbs for the basement and a router and modem for the internet. Mind if I come in?”
Her smile grows as she steps aside and opens the door wider. “I was just starting to get used to the red lights in the murder basement, but I’ll take regular cool white as well.”
I laugh. Darcy has an easygoing personality that fits well with her girl-next-door vibe. In terms of appearance, she’s like a mix between Micah and Brooklyn, blonde and short and solidly built, so she probably has an athletic background. I can see why Houston is interested, even if he denies it.
I’m pretty sure he’s convinced Darcy’s first impression of him negated any chance of a connection. Considering she thought he was going to murder her—long story—he might be right. But maybe I can change that. Houston needs someone like Darcy, who can hold her own against a bigshot like him.
“So, where’s your friend?” Darcy hops onto the kitchen counter as I set up the router in the corner by the toaster. According to Houston, it’s the only place with an internet connection, which is a little ridiculous.
I glance at her. “You mean Houston?”
She shrugs, but pink sprouts on her cheeks beneath her freckles. “I’m just curious why he’s not the one setting this up when he owns the house.”
I’m curious about that too. He’s right next door, probably pacing while he waits for me to come back and give a report. Darcy seems to scare him for some reason. “He’s a busy guy.”
“And you’re not? You own your own company, right?”
We talked a bit while I helped her and her brother move her stuff in yesterday, but I’m surprised she remembered. She seemed just as fascinated by Houston as he was by her.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “But I have a pretty good team, so I can step away every now and then.”
All things considered, I’ve barely worked the last week, and it’s all Brooklyn’s fault. Well, Brooklyn and her brother, who for some reason decided to stage an intervention where I’m concerned. The more time he tries to spend with me to keep me from working, the sooner he’s going to find out how I feel about his sister. I’d rather have a conversation with her first—really lay out my intentions—but Houston isn’t a dummy. He already suspects something is happening, and I know he doesn’t like it.
That’s going to make things more complicated than I would like.
“And Houston plays baseball for work?” Darcy asks.
Everything seems to be working with the router, so I tell her how to connect so she can test it before I answer her question. “Yes, he plays baseball.” And I have a feeling she knows that better than she’s letting on. Or maybe she’s just curious by nature and really doesn’t know that she’s living next to a literal celebrity. “He does some other stuff too,” I add, though I don’t want to elaborate because Houston is a weirdo who doesn’t like people to know how insanely generous and business-minded he is.
I should probably finish up my tasks and get out of here before I get sucked into some kind of drama that will keep me away from Brooklyn.
“I can change the bulbs downstairs,” Darcy says when I pick up the bag from the counter. “Thanks for bringing them over, but you don’t have to do all this when you clearly want to be talking to someone else.” She winks, and I laugh.
“Do you know something I don’t?”
