Page 3 of Brooke
Pierre nearly flew out of her hands, making her lean farther into the sink, up to her elbows now in water. God! Of all the things Brooke Adams had ever imagined doing, giving a cantankerous parrot a bath was not one of them. Pierre twisted his entire body like he was a wrestler throwing off an opponent, freeing his wing under the spray. Suddenly a fan of water splashed her, wetting her face, hair, and even her top.
“Hey!” she cried out in shock. “Stop that, Pierre. Dean, hurry up, will you?”
“I’m going as fast as I can, Brooke,” he said in an aggrieved tone as he soaped up his hands with a bottle of shower gel he’d set beside the sink and started washing Pierre’s right wing. “He’s got dirt lodged in his feathers.”
Of course he did.
Was she surprised that Dean couldn’t handle the task alone? Not really. He was the dreamer of their Paris Roommates Group, and even though his ideas were always top-notch, execution wasn’t his schtick. It was hers.
Even so…she was a fashion writer for a glamourous magazine, not a pet groomer!
“The only reason I’m helping is because I love you,” she told Dean as she blew her dripping blond bangs out of her face.
Thea looked over from guarding her bread loaves on the counter, her face strained with concern. She’d bet Thea wished she’d stayed in bed late with her fiancé this morning.
“Maybe, but my money is on you not being able to handle the mess,” Dean said, gently washing the parrot’s white-and-gray-speckled head as he gave another earsplitting squawk, making them both wince.
More water splashed her front. “Can you blame me? I return from yoga and seeing Nanine?—”
“You did!” Dean cried. “How is she? Still looking sad about the restaurant thing?”
Even Thea straightened. They were all worried about Nanine. “Actually, she was calm and in good spirits. When I asked if she needed anything, she insisted she was fine.”
Actually, she’d said the words Brooke hated most in the world.
I don’t need you to do anything for me.
Sure, she’d softened it with a sweet endearment, but Brooke had still felt a little helpless. She loved Nanine. She wanted to help her in this time of transition, but Nanine hadn’t been coming around as much.
Sure, they’d moved out of her house to get more space—a much-needed change for them all—and her restaurant was soon reopening without her at the helm. Everyone knew she was giving herself and them space for these changes, ones she was totally on board with, she’d declared more than once.
But Brooke couldn’t erase all her concern.
Especially since Nanine was recovering from a heart attack. The horror of almost losing her had taken Brooke to a place she didn’t like. Again. Because her father had recently suffered a heart attack too.
“I’m so glad you saw her,” Thea declared softly. “I invited her over to have dinner with me and Jean Luc the other night, and she said she just wanted to stay in. Something about the fall air and the nights getting darker earlier.”
Dean’s mouth twisted as Brooke looked over in surprise. “Nanine said that?” he asked. “I don’t like it. Not one bit.”
Pierre erupted in a giant squawk then, making Brooke wince. “Dean, as I was saying,Idon’t like coming home and finding chaos. Peace is rare for all of us, me especially. Do you have any idea what my day planner looks like right now?”
“Brooke,” Thea interjected. “I know you’re spending a lot of time looking for my wedding dress?—”
“Sweetie, it’s nothing.” Scouring every dress in a reasonable price range in person and in magazines gave Brooke pleasure, except she hadn’t yet found the perfect one for Thea (because it had to be PERFECT). “I’ve got it. Like I do everything.”
Her system of organization would not fail her. She’d designed the perfect day planner template in her mind after not finding what she needed on the open market. The structure was sheer perfection and ensured her success.
MY DAY
Sleep log:
6 hours
Noteworthy Dreams:
Falling from a tall building (in order to soar?)
Weather:
