Page 60 of Brooke
“You are most welcome. I hear Third Course in your voice today. The world had better look out.”
He hung up with another chuckle. She stepped around a splatter of dog shit and considered it a victory given everything on her mind. Dialing Axel, she felt a smile touch her lips.
“Hello, Brooke. I was just thinking about you.”
His deep voice sent shivers through her body. “Same here. What are you doing in, say, an hour and a half?”
“I am working on my design board at the moment. Were you hoping for a late lunch?”
“In Paris?” She laughed. “There is no such thing, Axel.Only tourists do that. How about a crème? I have something to show you.”
“I am suddenly excited. I was not sure I was seeing you today. How was your return home last night?”
She noted the number on the building where she was supposed to meet the new designer and opened the black iron gate to the small courtyard in front. “Memorable. I’ve arrived at my meeting. I’ll text you the address of where to meet me. See you in ninety minutes.”
“I will struggle with my concentration until then, my Brooke—a most unusual situation for me.”
Her insides wanted to twirl around in taffeta. “I completely understand. See you soon, my Axel.”
When she hung up, she pressed a hand to the tightness in her chest. What had made her call him that? She shook her head and stalked to the door and had to nearly jump back as it blew open and almost hit her.
A flash of midnight silk caught her attention—very chic—before Brooke raised her gaze to the overly smug face designed to perfection by the best Swiss plastic surgeon used by many of fashion’s older circles. “Giulia! What a surprise.”
It truly wasn’t since they usually interviewed the same fashion designers for their respective magazines. But still… Brooke crossed her arms and regarded the woman warily. Her stick pin was always within reach.
“Brooke, darling.” She leaned forward to give the polite, requisite Paris kisses, blasting Brooke with her heavy perfume.“Comment ça va?”
“I’m fine,” she answered, putting her hand on the door before it could close. “Late for a meeting.Bonne journée.”
She wasn’t late, and they both knew it. Giulia blocked her in a move she’d likely perfected to crowd out other models at the closing of a fashion show. She’d also used the intimidation tactic with Brooke at a re-see after a fashion show, when fashion editors were given more time with a designer’s collection.But Brooke was a New Yorker. When someone got in your face, you got right back in theirs. She stepped closer.
“I saw you with Axel Erikson the other night atLe Cirque,darling,” Giulia said with her Italian-accented French. “A truly odious man, Brooke. I hope you know about him. He turned me down when I asked him to decorate my place at Lake Como.”
Her smile was all teeth. “So he mentioned. Thank you for sharing your concerns, Giulia, but I’ve found him to have only the highest of taste.”
Giulia sucked in her breath at the insult, and Brooke used the moment to push her manicured hand from the door and go inside for her appointment.
Her meeting didn’t capture her complete attention, and she wished she could blame Giulia for it. She declined the beet juice the purple-haired designer was drinking and was aghast when he told her spring water was the only other beverage they stocked. In Paris! Times were changing, she supposed, but she didn’t want to live in a Paris where people didn’t even stock coffee for their guests.Catastrophe!
She struggled to focus, and the Theta music he played throughout the meeting, citing its constant creative vibes, didn’t help. The music made her head fuzzy, and at one point, the area between her brows started to pulse.
When he snapped his finger for his assistant to welcome in several tall, undernourished models who had black circles for eye makeup and hot red lips, she forced a polite smile. The clothes weren’t bad, but they lacked vibrancy, interest. Being in all neutrals—gray, black, cream—with no pops of color kept them drab to her mind. His fabrics hung flat as they passed her with their professional resting bitch faces.
His collection would do better in Manhattan than Paris, she thought, but she kept that item for her article. By the time she left, she was struggling to come up with any interestingpoints about the designer that weren’t negative. She wondered whether Giulia had loved it.
But that was fashion. Not every line appealed to her, and some designers she simply didn’t understand. Her job was to describe what she saw as a fashion expert, what his vision was—he’d told her simplicity in the darkness (like she knew what that meant).
Rating designers like she did inTRENDSwas a responsibility she took seriously. She was always honest but polite. If a designer threw their cell phone at their assistant after reading one of her articles, it was not her fault. Today her duty didn’t weigh so heavily. When she knew and adored the designer, it was tougher to be critical. The tightrope never became comfortable under her feet.
Outside, she took a breath of fragrant Paris autumn air and frowned when she caught a lingering note of Giulia’s overpowering perfume. The scent shouldn’t be allowed to overpower the scent of falling leaves, touch of loamy earth, and special fragrance that was all Paris. She likened the latter to a mélange of the Seine, a subtle blend of everyone’s perfume and cologne, breads from every boulangerie, and the cafés drank, of course. God, how she loved that smell. She strode forward to escape Giulia’s scent, but she was like a skunk who had laid her trail for a couple blocks, giving Brooke a slight headache.
Checking her phone, her insides pinged when she saw a text from Jean Luc. The property had been listed as of yesterday! Cue Dean’s kismet cheer, she thought. The real estate agent said the current owner did not wish to carry such a large property on its books and would be willing to entertain a competitive offer. Jean Luc followed up with the asking price for the space and told Brooke he thought they could put in something fifteen percent below it and still be competitive. He was available to assist, of course.
The price made her mouth water. The company really didwant to move it quickly. And why not? It was a three-floor property and they were expanding to a bigger space. Two payments could be a drain. They also had to know it would only work for a large upper bracket kind of store. She texted Jean Luc back a thanks and said she’d get back to him.
The sunlight danced on her face through the trees growing along the sidewalk, their golden leaves playing in the wind. The last traces of Giulia disappeared, thank God, the farther she walked. Her spirits were suddenly shaking pom-poms. About the space for sure, because God, it was a good space for a good deal, but also about seeing Axel.
Her Axel.
