Page 68 of Brooke
Dean was not. “So you’re not extra happy this morning, Brooke?”
Her green eyes grew big before she narrowed them. “No, why do you ask?”
God, they were getting nowhere, but he sensed hersudden unease. Something was up, and he wanted to know what it was. He gave another hum, louder this time. “You. Sound. Weird.”
“Speaking like a caveman at last, Dean?” Brooke said, making Sawyer and Kyle snort with laughter. “I’m sure Jacqueline loves that side of you.”
“She does, in fact, but you’re deflecting.”
She closed her phone and picked up her satchel. “No, I’m working. Something you seem incapable of this morning. I’m going to head upstairs. Axel and I are going to get started on a detailed mood board today with fabric swatches.”
He studied her. Her voice had turned crisper. Tense. Hmm…
He followed her as she left the kitchen.
“Go away, Dean. I love you, but you’re like a little puppy who wants someone to throw a ball. Call Jacqueline.”
He let that doggie insult pass. Hadn’t he just thought something similar? “I haven’t been around much lately. I feel like a bad friend. Brooke, I want to know why you’re humming.”
She swung around as she reached the first step on the stairs. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m designing! With Axel Erikson! It’s my dream. Plus, my dad wants to hire me to decorate his apartment. Like a client.”
“That reminds me. Jacqueline and I want to hire you too—for our new place.”
Delight flashed in her catlike green eyes. “Oh! I…didn’t assume. You two have a good sense.”
“Yeah, but neither one of us wants to troll antique and fabric stores for furnishings.” He shuddered. “You love that shit. And Jacqueline has already vetoed my suggestion we paint our bedroom a wine color because that’s one thing that makes her the happiest. Besides me, of course.”
She started laughing. “Wine color? Dean, you would think that. Tell Jacqueline I’ll be there to curtail your nutty ideas.”
“Like having an aviary so Pierre has friends when he comes over for a sleepover? She nixed that one too.” He snapped his fingers for show.
“Good for her. You and a mass of birds in a contained space would be a disaster.”
She started up the stairs and then stopped. When she turned around, she had a hard, all-business gleam in her eyes. Good.
“Yes?” he asked, waggling his brows. “You know you can’t get enough of me.”
Her look was meant to set him down, but she didn’t mean it. “Hey! Do you know that design store across from Café Louis?”
“Yeah. Why? Do you think Jacqueline and I should swing by there?”
“You can’t. It’s moved to a new location. No, I was thinking…”
She bit her lip, indecision warring on her face. “Spit it out, Brooke.”
“That space came available only days ago. I saw it and had this feeling you’d probably call kismet. Axel doesn’t think it’s right for him, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I even had Jean Luc call about it. The price is competitive.”
When she quoted the listing price, he stroked his jaw. “It’s a honker of real estate.” Dean pulled it up in his mind. “Three floors in a good location, sure, but three floors! Not too many companies will need that much space. Given the price range, they’ll have a short list of interested parties.”
She clutched her satchel. “I thought so too. I just…I can’t seem to let this go.”
If Brooke’s instincts were zinging—hey, maybe that’s why she was humming—they needed to take it seriously. “Let’s grab Kyle and go see it,” he said, jerking his chin toward the kitchen and starting off toward it.
When her heels didn’t click behind him, he glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, Brooke. Let’s go.”
Five minutes later, they stuffed themselves into a taxi—a tight squeeze because Sawyer had volunteered to see it as well. When they reached the intersection and left the car, Dean put his hands on his hips and took in the sight. Pedestrian traffic was strong, as was car traffic, with the five roads branching off Boulevard Saint-Germain. The now barren floors seemed almost dystopian amidst the busy city life around them.
“Hell of a space, Brooke,” Dean commented, turning to look at her.
