Page 94 of Brooke
Call Dad to set up appointment to discuss his home decorating project.
Call Nanine to make sure she’s in good spirits.
Write Marcello a thank-you note for the party invite last night.
Ask Dean if he and Jacqueline want to meet about their new business.
Make a meeting with Thea to discuss her ideas for the bakery’s design.
Call The Fashion Five and set up a lunch.
Call Giovani about a possible trip to Milan to see his collection.
The day planner was starting to wear her down as she continued, the tasks staring back at her…and also the eraser fluid drying on the page. The space that held Axel’s name was blank now, sure, but it seemed to scream at her. She decided not to push herself as she tried to fill it in, her spirits dipping again.
Ongoing Tasks:
Find a life coach!
Keep positive (see tools below for help).
She couldn’t face filling in anything else. Skipping to the bottom seemed like the best course of action, she decided, one she hoped would drag her back up out of this pit she seemed to have fallen into.
Evening Appts.
6:30 pm Apéro with roommates
8 pm Dinner at Nanine’s
11 pm Party afterward, until dawn
Ongoing Tools:
Continue watching “You Know What You Want” podcast.
Continue readingReclaim Your Superpowers.
Kickboxing redux.
Breathing techniques to quell anxiety and keep focus.
Gratitude journaling four times a day.
She stared at that last part. Yes, she could find things to be grateful for. Wasn’t she the luckiest person on earth? She had a terrific father and wonderful roommates and Nanine. She had a great job atTRENDSalong with her new role in PRG. She had two interior design jobs so far and more on the way. She was healthy…
Okay, she was pushing it now. She was thirty. Surely that meant she was too young to have to put that on her gratitude list, but she did have a fabulous home filled with people she loved, and she finally lived in Paris. She punched the bed this time. Yes! How about that for gratitude?
Stalking to the bathroom, she decided it was time to put herself back together. She washed her face with the coldest water available, hoping it would wake the old her up. She tried not to look at the woman in the mirror, but she had to in order to find out if she had any leftover mascara smeared under her eyes. She almost recoiled at her image.
Lifeless skin. Dull, red-rimmed eyes. Haggard face.
Not the Brooke Adams she wanted to be. And all over a man—again!
When was she going to learn?
She applied her makeup with the rigorous precision of a makeover artist readying models for the first show of fashion week. Her work didn’t scream supermodel perfection, but at least she had color, and her eyes didn’t scream vampire from a practically sleepless night.
She stalked back into her bedroom and ripped open hercloset, pulling out a Brooke Adams favorite—a tight-fitting black suit inspired by Jackie Kennedy’s Chanel days. Hadn’t Jackie Kennedy had to face the public at the worst moments imaginable? She’d always looked terrific.
