Page 102 of Brooke
“But you’re still not connecting the dots.” She pointed to her cleaver. “Brooke’s reputation, her professionalism, her being above the fray, is her cleaver.”
He stared at the knife, the hard planes of his face tightening.
“Brooke’s attempt to keep your relationship personal—secretive, in your words—was her way of protecting herself. Her professional reputation. You don’t know this yet, and I am probably stepping into some shit saying it, but it needs saying. Brooke’s rep took a huge hit last night because she brought you to a professional event with her.”
His blue gaze flickered with worry. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t have all day to describe it, but some bitch named Giulia started ugly rumors about you and Brooke and told Brooke’s boss. It’s become a huge thing. Brooke had colleagues and other fashion idiots gossiping about her being a slut and a schemer. Saying she was banging you so she could expand into interior design.”
His mouth twisted darkly.
“That hit is on Brooke’s side too,” she continued. “I’m sure people still only think you’re a Viking god or whatever they call you. It might even have helped your rep since you bagged Brooke, because she’s never mixed biz and pleasure before.”
Axel’s arms slowly slid to his sides, as if the fight was leaving him.
“Basically, it’s a freaking mess, Axel.” She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Brooke’s boss gave her an ultimatum. Basically, bringing you to that party—to help you, something she only does for people she cares about, in case you somehow missed that memo—has put everything Brooke hasworked for over her whole career in jeopardy. That, bucko, is something that just doesn’t happen to a guy. It doesn’t even occur to you.Because you’re a guy.”
His face looked so dark and malevolent she wouldn’t have been surprised to see lightning bolts shoot from it.
“So, I thought you should know.” She picked up her cleaver and packed it back in its carrier. “What you choose to do about it is up to you, but I figured maybe if I brought my cleaver with me and told you how I’d been treated, it might penetrate that male brain of yours. Now, I’m outta here.”
As she was putting it into the bag, his giant hand closed over hers. She stilled and looked up into his eyes, her insides going on alert the way they always did. But she didn’t have anything to worry about. His baby blues were bright with mushy emotion.
“Oh no.” She shook her head, trying to step back. “Not you too! My shirt cannot absorb any more snot. I don’t wear those natural fiber fabrics you and Brooke probably gush over.”
He drew himself up, a short flash of a smile changing up the dark mood hovering over his mouth. “I… Thank you, Madison.”
“No prob.” She picked up her bag. “See you, Axel.”
Walking out the same way she’d come, she stood on the street, waiting to hail a cab. Cracking her neck, she spied one and flagged it down. Once inside, she pressed her market bag to her jumping stomach. Her stroll down memory lane had her keyed up, but since it had keyed up Axel too, she could take it.
She only hoped it would help out Brooke.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Consolatory emails started to roll in at noon.
Brooke gripped her phone, looking at the legions of texts. She hadn’t picked up any phone calls.
The message was clear though: people in fashion thought she was out.
Since a few mentioned having heard it from Giulia Mariani, Brooke knew the source. She’d even had the audacity to suggest Brooke had made a major faux pas in bringing the great Axel Erikson to Marcello’s party only to have the Viking god of design turn the man down—at his own party!
Marcello hadn’t taken it as an insult, of course, otherwise he wouldn’t have spoken to them for as long as he had. Plus, he hadn’t stormed off like she’d seen him do when he was upset.
Giulia was twisting everything to suit her purposes. Brooke had wondered if Giulia intended this as revenge for Axel, who’d turned her down. She should have listened to her gut more. This was the woman who carried a Medici stick pin, after all.
The bitch had tossed blood in the water and wasn’t going to let up until the sharks devoured every inch of Brooke,down to her designer pumps. Axel was more protected, not being in fashion. She’d need to tell him about this. God! Another black mark against her in his mind probably. Later, she thought, as she pressed her knuckle to her throbbing third eye.
She couldn’t see a way out. People were saying Giulia’s coup was akin to Diana Vreeland being out ofVogueafter long-standing success, replaced as editor in chief by her former assistant, Grace Mirabella.
Karl Lagerfeld was right. Fashion was “ephemeral, dangerous, and unfair.” God, she was starting to quote like Sawyer.
She pushed off the edge of her bed, where she’d returned after attempting to nibble on the lunch Thea had lovingly made for her after her power walk along the Seine with Madison and Sawyer. She wanted to kick something! She was going to have to find a kickboxing class. She grabbed her phone. Maybe she could find one today—well, before the restaurant opening.
A knock sounded on the door to her bedroom. “Brooke. It’s Daddy and Nanine.”
