Page 9 of Brooke
Terrific. Leave it to Sawyer not to share his concerns with her. Right. Because she would have been on his case to change his mind.
“No offense, Axel.” Sawyer ignored Brooke’s glare. “My studio is my workplace, my sacred sanctuary. I don’t need it decorated since it’s only for me.”
“I’m with Sawyer, Axel,” Madison chimed in. “This kitchen is my workplace—and Thea’s when she’s here.”
Axel gestured to the space with clear warmth as he said, “Whoever created this kitchen clearly knows a chef’s heart. Yours, I imagine.”
Madison flinched, and Kyle cleared his throat softly.
Dean grinned. “Our fearless leader Kyle created this place for Madison.”
Brooke imagined they could all feel the sudden tension in the room. Everyone knew Kyle and Madison had a thing going on—both fighting the attraction between them like it was the plague itself—but no one talked about it. Mostly because the two people involved had told them not to. But also because Nanine’s old rule about no fraternization between roommates was a good one.
Axel only nodded thoughtfully and said, “I see. It’s a wonderful space.”
“It’s top-shelf, to my mind,” Dean continued, “with the shiny copper pots hanging above the kitchen island. Chefs love that stuff. I’m usually worried about banging my head on them since I’m so tall. Although, man, you’ve got a few inches on me and then some.”
“And don’t forget the mini-coolers,” Thea practically purred. “Sawyer says they look like a refrigerator bookcase with their glass fronts. And we just love having different stations for deep frying and grilling, don’t we, Madison?”
She grunted before saying, “Like they said, it’s a completely outfitted chef’s kitchen. It’s fine as it is. Despite the water on the floor that Dean hasn’t cleaned up yet.”
“Hey!” he protested. “I didn’t have a chance yet.”
Kyle’s mouth froze in a professional smile. Time for Brooke to step in. She could talk to her reluctant roommates later. “Axel, what they mean is?—”
“Brooke, please, there’s no need.” Axel nodded thoughtfully in her direction. “You cannot believe this is the first I’ve heard of certain spaces being off-limits. I understand the desire to protect sacred spaces. But I must educate everyone on my purpose here. The vision I have for any project is simple. It is not only to reflect a client’s tastes, but their needs. Sawyer. Madison. I do not decorate a room so it will photograph well in a magazine, although, as you know, there will be articles on this house when I am finished. The editor atMaison Styletold me only last week how eager they are to feature our work together.”
That light-headed feeling returned. The editor was eager! Brooke worked for a magazine. She knew how rare such eagerness was.
“In fact, he mentioned perhaps going from an eight-page spread to a ten-page one given the number of rooms and personalities in the house, especially as PRG is gaining media attention with your business ventures and the famed Pierre.” He glanced around at every single one of them, clearlygauging the mood in the room. “Kyle said everyone wanted to be part of this process when we spoke.”
“They do, Axel, even the ones with cold feet,” Kyle assured him quickly. “Everyone is also excited to haveBrookeworking with you.”
The emphasis on her name was unmistakable. Brooke made the corners of her mouth lift. Smiling was not her usual professional go-to for first meetings, but she wanted Axel to know she was over the moon to be working with him. A few of her roommates nodded in agreement with Kyle, but suddenly she realized what was going on.
Everyone had agreed to let Axel decorate the house because it helped her! How had she not seen it before? Sure, Kyle was keen on it, professionally and personally—and Dean would probably love to have a space designed by a top design dog, but the rest of them? Not so much. Her heart lurched before warming at the thought. God, she loved these guys!
“We just have some nervous folks here who are new to this process,” Kyle added with another megawatt professional smile of his own.
“I’m not,” Sawyer broke in. “I love the chance for Brooke, but my mother did the whole decoration thing more times than I can count growing up, and it always ended the same way. Uncomfortable furniture and my bedroom being turned into what she thought it should look like. Not me.”
Oh, Sawyer, she thought.
“I do not work that way,” Axel said quietly in his deep voice. “I see we will need to build trust. That is good and expected. Besides being a painter, you are an art history professor, are you not, Dr. Jackson? The role of true art is to reflect the identity of the subject, its very essence. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Sawyer took off his glasses, wiping them with a clean spot on his paint shirt. “Yes.”
“He’s got you there, Sawyer,” Dean pointed out unnecessarily, earning him a rare glare from Sawyer.
“Well, I know I appreciate Axel sharing how he works,” Brooke said, suddenly conscious shewasdripping on the floor as everyone turned to look at her. “How about I give you a tour of the house? We can take our coffees with us, if you’d like, before meeting back up with everyone else.”
Thea spun into action while Axel regarded her thoughtfully before saying, “I believe this house is going to be a great challenge, one of the biggest I’ve ever faced. I am excited to have finally met all of you. Thea, if you don’t mind saving my café for after the tour, I would be most grateful. I like to give my full attention to what I am doing, and this house and company deserve that. Brooke, kindly lead the way.”
She gave her roommates another forced smile before heading toward the hallway. Axel’s footsteps sounded behind her, shaking her fragile reserve. As they entered the main salon, she found herself wondering what size foot he had. Surely, at six-seven, he wore a special size. Probably custom clothes. A man like him would need to have something made to suit his large frame. Is that why he’d started designing furniture? Dean and Kyle were both over six feet, but they weren’t anywhere near his height, and somehow it changed the nature of the room around her. Axel dominated the space, and as it was a large one, that was not easy to do.
She glanced surreptitiously at him, noting he was gazing around the interior in an unhurried way. She wished she could ask if she could run up to her room and freshen up—like rip off her clothes and put on her new rose gold Chanel suit and dry her hair—but that was insane and a time suck. He wanted to see them without formality. Real. Honest. She’d also heard he liked to work quietly, something she’d already gathered was true. So even though she wanted to point out the obvious features of the room and show him she knew her stuff, she kept her mouth shut.
He would see the real accents of their place anyway. The white marble fireplace with the vintage golden mirror in the salon, visible as one curved on the stairs. The Art Deco influences. The large windows, one of which sported a stained glass peacock. The Haussmannien style, so Parisian, with its white walls leading to carved crown molding, the black iron balconies off the floor-to-ceiling windows, along with the herringbone parquet floors, and French doors between most rooms.
