Page 57 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Jordan
October 15
Brooklyn calls me while I’mdriving between jobs on Tuesday, and I wish I could say I’m not wildly excited when I see her name on the screen in my truck. Watching the game with her last night was far too fun—way better than watching it by myself or with the kids screaming around the house—and it was a whole lot harder to leave than it should have been.
I force myself to let the phone ring a few times before I answer the call. “What’s up, Queens?”
Silence.
“Brooklyn?”
“You okay, Briggs?” It’s a male voice on the line, but in the distance. I almost can’t hear him.
“Fine,” Brooklyn says, though she sounds anything but. “Guess you just have a habit of scaring me.”
Uh, what? I glance behind me and then pull my truck over to the curb outside the neighborhood I just left. I turn off the engine and let the radio stay on with residual power so I don’t lose any of the call.
“We missed you on Friday,” the man says.
“Why? I mean, uh, I was sick.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Where were you yesterday?”
Hang on, is she talking to Mark? With me on the phone? While the chances are high she dialed me by accident, I can’t help but wonder if she called me so I could make sure she doesn’t mess this up. There’s no way she’sthathopeless, is there?
“An appointment downtown,” Mark says. He doesn’t sound quite as weaselly as I was expecting, but it’s not like I had much to go off of. Brooklyn spent too long talking about him with stars in her eyes for me to have any idea of what he’s actually like. All I’ve got is her comparison to a movie star, which I don’t love.
I’ve been around too many movie stars. The thought of Brooklyn crushing on someone that self-important has me feeling restless.
“Any word on the nomination?” Mark asks.
There’s a shuffling of papers. “Oh. Um. Not really. I think Cheng wanted to make a decision soon, though.”
“You’d be a great option.”
“Thanks. You too.”
“Thanks.”
Silence again. This might be the most awkward conversation I’ve accidentally listened to. Yes, I know I could just hang up and pretend she never called, but there’s still that chance that she called on purpose. I’ll feign ignorance if this ends up being a butt dial, but I refuse to let her down if she wants me here.
I glance at my watch. These two had better start talking, or I’m going to be running behind the rest of the day.
“So, Briggs, are you busy tonight?”
I nearly swear, holding it back just in case Brooklyn can hear me. I lost track of the number of times she got after Houston and me for using bad language back in the day, and I doubt she’s any fonder of it now than she was then.
Mark’s not wasting any time, is he?
Brooklyn stumbles over several words before she finally lands on, “No.”
“Dinner on me?”
“Say yes, Queens,” I mutter.
Say no, another voice says in the back of my mind.
