Page 2 of Brooke
Madison has been stressing with the menu for weeks. I mean, I get it. There’s a lot riding on this—not just for Nanine but also for Madison, who’s working toward her first Michelin rating as a head chef. That’s a big deal, particularly for a female chef. She’s tinkering, not quite satisfied with the main dish that’s going to land her a star.
Funny thing—that’s kind of what’s going on with Brooke. She’s the main dish that has the potential to be a blockbuster, except for the fact that something’s not clicking.
It’s not a surprise. Brooke is an acclaimed fashion writer who spends most of her “free” time managing everyone else’s business. When I see her day planner, I literally start to feel an ulcer coming on. But it’s kind of sweet how she’s decided to be the fairy godmother of our group—even if she does blow full steam ahead like a New Yorker with one speed: power walk. I know I’m grateful for her help in getting me together with my main squeeze, the Lady Jacs. But Brooke can’t keep using other people’s stuff to avoid her own life.
She’s been off her game ever since she and her almost-fiancé broke up six months ago. She puts on a brave face and keeps ploughing ahead, but we know her well enough to see the cracks in her confidence. Her new mountain to climb is working jointly with Axel Erikson, whoPeople Magazinecalled the Viking god of interior design after he worked on some Oscar-winning actor’s pad. He’s going to make our new roommate digs look awesome.
Of course, everyone knows Kyle did a little of themeddling he’s known for. Brooke has wanted to go into interior design since before she became a hot fashion writer for the famed magazineTRENDS. He landed Axel to help Brooke achieve her dream, which was really nice, and makes me less inclined to punch him in the face for being so annoyingly perfect.
So here we go. Brooke’s got her own fairy godmother—Kyle wouldlovebeing called that.
The problem: will she put down her day planner long enough to realize that sometimes life is messy? I hope she will and that she’ll open her heart to finding the dude of her dreams. Because if I’ve learned anything in Paris, it’s that love is always part of the missing piece.
Although part of me shudders to think about how strong and powerful a guy’s gotta be to be Brooke’s equal. Please don’t tell Brooke I said that last part…
CHAPTER
ONE
Chaos was not in Brooke Adams’ day planner for today.
She pulled up short at the kitchen doorway in their new house. The sight of her friend and roommate Dean wrangling their African gray parrot for a bath in the sink had her gaping. Water sluiced in an arc across the kitchen as Pierre wrestled a wing free, squawking madly, the droplets falling like rain on the clean tile floor.
Her cherished morning yoga Zen went up in smoke, and she realized she’d trailed off while dictating a voicemail to her father, whom she was finding it harder and harder to reach since he’d arrived early to Paris for his post-retirement move, something that was adding to her current stress.
“Dad, I’ll call you back.” She charged ahead, ready to take matters in hand. “What in the hell are you doing, Dean?”
“What does it look like?” he shot over his shoulder, sandy brown hair dripping.
Thea startled, hunched over her rising bread loaves protectively. “Sorry, sweetie. I know you’re probably no keener than I am to have this insanity in the kitchen.”
“What insanity?” Dean winced as Pierre’s gray wingescaped again and sluiced more water over his face and hair, adding to the mess on the kitchen floor. “Brooke, I’m only getting our little friend presentable for his interview with Madison for the restaurant reopening.”
Now that eventwasin her day planner, even though she didn’t have to attend. Her day planner ran toward two tracks these days now that she was based in Paris: her day job atTRENDSas a fashion reporter and her second job as a member of their new restaurant and hospitality company, The Paris Roommates Group. She handled the interior design aspects of the business as part of her desire to expand beyond clothes and catwalks.
“Ne me touche pas,”Pierre cried out with a squawk.
“Oh, yes, I’m going to touch you, buddy,” Dean replied with a chortle. “Brooke, make yourself useful. I can’t hold him tight and get him wet at the same time.”
He was equal parts exasperating and funny, and she couldn’t help but snicker. “That’s what she said.”
“No, my Jacqueline so does not,” he fired back with a lazy wink. “Now, get over here. Please!”
The next shower of water in the man versus bird contest decided matters for her. “At least I’m in my yoga clothes. Thea, you’re awfully quiet this morning. Everything okay?”
Playing with the strings on her pink apron, Thea darted a glance at her rising loaves, covered by a baker’s cloth. “I’m wondering if I should move my babies to another room. The water is traveling farther than I thought it could when Dean started.”
This was all they needed. They were on high alert in the house because Axel Erikson would be making his surprise visit any day now. Everything had to be perfect. If the interview today wasn’t so important for PRG, she’d tell Dean to bag the bath and quit this nonsense.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Dean. Let’s get this over with. Do you want me to hold him?—”
“Yes, because a guy should handle the hose,” he said with a smirk.
An eyeroll was too merciful. She elbowed him in the ribs as she settled her hands gently over Pierre’s wet body, securing him before Dean let go and focused on washing the bird.
“Non, non,”Pierre cried, squirming under her hands.
“If you’d stay still, Pierre, this would be over quickly.” She sent a pained grimace toward Thea. “Sorry, I know you’re making bread. Let’s send out good energy that Dean’s well-intentioned but nutty idea to bathe Pierre isn’t going to deflate your loaves.”
