Page 25 of Brooke
“It’s my job to check up on things like that, is all,” he finished lamely, fighting the urge to pace up and down the kitchen.
“I promised my father I’d call him when I got home from yoga,” she suddenly blurted out. “And I should give these notes to Madison. Excuse me.”
He watched as she rushed out of the kitchen, her coffee forgotten. “Was that weird, Pierre?”
“Complètement,”the parrot responded.
Brooke was tense. Guarded. And she’d refrained from writing notes at the dinner table because someone had told her not to? He would need to keep an eye on the situation. Maybe even do a little follow-up with Axel.
He pushed his cold coffee aside. His gaze landed on the duck Madison had created. At least one huge worry was offhis shoulders. She had her Michelin-starred recipe. She’d slain her nemesis.
Cutting off a piece of the duck, he finally took a bite and started to chew. And groaned all the way to his toes. Even cold as the dish was now, he could understand whythisrecipe was the winner. One single bite was a symphony of flavors and textures that teased and tantalized his mouth, making him crave more.
Much like the woman who’d created it.
He swallowed thickly, the taste of her joy and brilliance lingering in his mouth. With Brooke, he’d talked about professionalism. Perhaps he was the one who needed reminding.
When Madison had jumped him and spontaneously wrapped her arms around him with rare, unadulterated joy, he’d felt like his entire world was complete for the first time in his life.
CHAPTER
SIX
Brooke couldn’t stop staring at the flowers.
Don’t ask her how many times she’d read Axel’s card over the last three days, or caressed the rich paper filled with the kind of romantic words she’d always wished for, the kind that sent a practical woman like her into a wonderland of dreams. She knew them by heart now.
My dearest Brooke,
We can never know when the longing in our heart will meet the person who seems to fulfill them simply with their presence. I wandered the streets of Paris after our time together instead of readying for my trip. I gazed into a moon-drenched Seine, and I heard it whisper, yes, she holds answers for you. The flowers and textures are how I see you so far. I cannot wait until we meet again so I may learn more.
Yours,
Axel
She clutched her hands to her heart as giddy emotion filled it. Today she would see him again—she’d almost drawna heart beside the appointment in her day planner days ago. She was running hot and cold and giddy.
The note played through her mind like music, almost like an earworm. She hadn’t known men wrote or thought like that anymore. She’d almost asked Sawyer if he’d ever written a woman such a beautiful note because Sawyer was the only man of her acquaintance who might have. He’d met his last girl at a poetry reading, after all.
But that might unleash questions from her dear friend. While he’d given her away with a searching look after coming down with Madison to taste her duck creation, he hadn’t pressed for any date details. But Sawyer had always been good about giving people space.
Yet she couldn’t dismiss the fact that her curiosity was insatiable. What did Axel mean by his choices? He’d sent three types of flowers, each bouquet with a matching fabric: wine-colored roses with velvet; paper-thin orange poppies with organdy; and showy, white hydrangeas with silk.
She’d thanked him by text the same morning. He hadn’t responded. Much like her father hadn’t to her last two voicemails, which was odd. Nanine was also incommunicado, Madison had said. The house had been empty when she’d swung by to have her taste her final duck with cherries recipe.
Were they both gone for the long weekend? And where? God, she almost laughed. They were adults—and here she was acting like they were the kids in her life. But still…
People could still text, right?
Nanine didn’t text, being very French on that score. Her father didn’t like to, but he’d usually respond if she sounded worried enough. But he hadn’t, and she hadn’t heard from Thea or Dean either. Not a peep! And there hadn’t been a single word from the man who’d sent her all of those flowers.
She’d been so puzzled, she’d pulled out her SIM card and reinserted it after running a diagnostic on her phone. No texts had popped up.
She hadn’t known what to think.
Which had her wondering just how separate the professional and personal were going to be in Axel’s mind. After hearing Kyle’s concerns, she figured separate was good. Her friend had reminded her how much was at stake and how worried they’d be by her behavior. Her roommates would act differently with Axel if they knew he and Brooke were attracted to each other, and that change of behavior could hurt the project.
She was in a quandary. The project had to come first. So for now, she was keeping her lips zipped and leading with professionalism. She’d even found a podcast to listen to about how empowering it was to nurture one’s dreams in the face of romantic entanglements. The host’s perspective was intriguing. She’d said a true soulmate supported his partner’s dreams, and if entanglements popped up, the dream was the piece to hold onto. The relationship would either upgrade or fall away. A little scary, but practical. Brooke liked practical. Not that she was thinking Axel was her soulmate…
