Page 10 of Brooke
When they reached the second floor, she led him down the hall. Kyle’s room was the first, but before she could open her mouth, Axel put his finger to his perfectly sculpted lips. “Don’t tell me whose room is whose. I want to guess.”
“I respect your process,” she said and then wanted to wince.
As she watched Axel take in Kyle’s space before moving on to Madison’s monastic bedchamber, she could practically feel a magical springboard under her feet, helping her make a huge career leap. The way he studied a space was different and more intuitive than anyone she’d been around, and she’d met a lot of interior decorators in both her studies and her profession. Working with Axel on this house would give her unimaginable cred, and she planned to run with it.
“I suspect the first room was Kyle’s,” Axel suddenly said, breaking the silence. “But this is clearly Madison’s. I find her minimalism quite refreshing. Simple futon on the floor. No lamps or knickknacks to clutter the space.”
She fought with herself about whether to share that she’d tried to convince Madison to let them buy her a bed off the floor at least. Kyle had tried too, but to no avail.
“She clearly saves her creativity for her cuisine. As many great artists do.”
Brooke did her best to keep her brows from raising to her roots at that shocking revelation. She’d known Madison for ten years and hadn’t ever considered that might be why herfriend cared so little about decorating her personal spaces. Madison always said she was never home, so it didn’t matter where she slept. But maybe Axel was right. Whenever someone asked Madison anything nonculinary, she’d say she didn’t care.
She tucked that nugget away with a flash of excitement. Would she see all of her roommates in a new light after Axel shared his insights?
Then a ripple of fear moved through her belly like a nasty flu bug. What insights would he have about her?
Nanine called her Third Course, the main course, for a reason. She wanted her careful planning and execution to command attention. Make a splash. Controlling how people saw her was as natural to her as breathing, especially after living in Manhattan and working in fashion. She let few people see her private interior, as Axel would call it. Only her father, her roommates, and Nanine.
For a time, she’d shown it to Adam, but he had walked away from what he’d seen without a backward glance. God, that part had hurt the worst. Her mother had done that when she was ten, and abandonment still made her feel like something was wrong with her at her core. Even after all her success and her work on herself.
Axel was quietly waiting for her, and she realized she’d stopped, lost in thought. “I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
She wanted to glower at her own pathetic excuse, but he only gave a pleasant smile. “No need to explain. Shall we see the rest?”
She nodded, increasing her pace as they walked up the stairs to the third floor where her and Dean’s rooms were located. She could feel a glimmer of vulnerability. Axelwouldsee things about her that she didn’t want to let people see. So after touring Dean’s messy room, filled with evidence of thelife he was forming with Jacqueline, they headed down the hall to her sanctuary.
Her heart thudded, because there was no way he wouldn’t know it was her room. She had photos in designer frames of special moments with her father, Nanine, and her roommates. Ever since her mother abandoned her, she’d kept photos around her to remind her she was loved. She was wanted. She was safe.
Because fuck her mother.
Axel walked in, his large steps so measured he didn’t make the old parquet floor squeak and groan like usual. She held her breath as she leaned against the doorway, trying to seem relaxed even though her muscles were stiff with tension. Another drop of water cruised down her temple as she watched his eyes scan the room. Then his mouth curved. The uptick of his gorgeous lips was slight but heavy with meaning.
Why was he smiling?She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking him straight out. Holding her breath, her pulse frantic in her ears, she waited until he’d made a tour of her space before flashing him a forced smile. God, she hadn’t felt this out of sorts in…forever. She wanted a career change really badly, but that didn’t explain the way she was reacting to him. She was used to going after what she wanted. So what was with all this knee-quaking vulnerability?
“Thank you, Brooke,” he said in that deep voice as his gaze found hers. “I know it is not easy to share one’s private space with a stranger.”
Her throat caught, his understanding throwing her. “Maybe you’ll have to show me your room to make it even.” Then she winced. “Sorry, sometimes my New Yorker side comes out.”
He gave a hearty laugh, the kind she imagined an oak tree would give it if were able.
God, what was wrong with her?
“I’ve lived in Manhattan, as you know, and have many clients there. I take no offense. I even appreciate the suggestion. Especially since Kyle said you wish to work with me on the house.”
Here was her Eminem “Lose Herself” moment. “Interior design is something I’ve been interested in for a long time, so it’s an honor to be working with you.”
He crossed his arms across his massive chest again and studied her. “If that is true, why are you working in fashion?”
Shit. Let the real questions begin.
“I studied interior design, but I couldn’t see an easy path as an interior designer when I was first starting out,” she finally answered. “The field was cluttered, and?—”
“Fashion was not?” he asked, a glimmer of humor in his gaze.
Checkmate.
She didn’t want to admit her father had helped her get an interview atTRENDSthrough a relationship with a business associate, so she said, “Of course fashion is hard to break into, so when that happened for me, rather easily, I ran with it, hoping to focus my articles more on fabrics and textures and the increasing interconnectedness between fashion and design trends?—”
