Prologue #3
She’d walked right out and headed to HR. She’d filed two
reports and been told they would take the situation seriously.
She should have known it would all go wrong when Mark walked
by her smirking.
A week later she’d been called in and fired. The reason
given was that she wasn’t fitting in with the company’s culture, and it was
causing people on her team to feel uncomfortable. They’d brought up all the
times she talked about her brothers and the fact that they were both married to
the same woman. She’d never hidden that her brothers were in an unconventional
relationship, and everyone joked about it. She kept a picture of her brothers
and their wife Rachel and their three kids on her desk. Her niece and nephews.
She missed them. Her colleagues always asked for stories about them and the
quirky town she’d grown up in where threesomes were a thing.
Then they used it when she became inconvenient.
She’d walked out with her head held high, vowing legal
vengeance. “I intend to make sure everyone knows what kind of a boss he is.
I’ll sue the hell out of the company and him personally.”
Ami winced. “You might want to think that through. You’re
already going to have a tough time finding another job. You don’t accuse a man
like Mark Hallway without receipts, and I’m not talking about him stealing your
designs. No one will give a shit that he took credit for your clothes. You’re
nobody. He’s… Well, he’s been a top designer for twenty years. Bianchi was
lucky to get him.”
“He’s been a top designer by stealing ideas.” Brooke
couldn’t believe what she was hearing. No one would listen to her. They acted
like it was the fifties and Me Too never happened. “And he acted
unprofessionally. He tried to force me into a sexual relationship.”
Ami’s eyes rolled, and she took a sip of her kombucha.
“Brooke, if you wanted to be pure and shit you should have picked another
industry. You should have stayed in that rural, backwater town and like
answered phones and stuff. This is the big leagues. It’s not fair, but that’s
the price we pay. Do you know how many photographers I’ve had to handle? I’ve
had to make some decisions I’m not necessarily proud of, but that’s what you
do. You never were cut out for this life, and this proves it. The first time something
goes wrong, you’re whining and crying.”
Ami was a model. She did catalog work right now but was
absolutely certain her big break was coming. At twenty-five. She was also
highly judgmental of everything Brooke did. From her clothes to the way she
talked, Ami had always made fun of her. But she owned this rent-controlled
apartment, passed to her from her mother.
How was she going to pay rent? Even with the controlled
rent, she paid a couple grand a month for her tiny room. It was probably highly
illegal that Ami charged her roughly the same amount for the sublet room as she
paid in rent, but given the location it was a steal.
She would have to move. Could she afford Brooklyn? Probably
not. Queens was getting expensive. Maybe the Bronx. Of course she needed a job.
It wasn’t like she had much savings. She lived in Manhattan. Every dime she had
went to rent and food and survival. She had to dress well because of her job.
She didn’t have a job.
Suddenly she could smell the pine of Colorado. Feel the way
the wind moved through the forest and over her skin, the cool water of the pond
where her brothers had taught her to swim. She could smell beef stew in the
Crock-Pot and know there would be cornbread.
Tears threatened, but she was stronger than this. Her
brothers taught her to fight, not to lay down.
“I’m calling a lawyer.” She might get in touch with Gemma
Wells. She lived in the town her brothers lived in. Bliss. Gemma had once been
in a similar situation. Gemma might be able to help her find the right
attorney.
Ami’s head tilted. “Uhm, a lawyer will take one look at your
contract and tell you them’s the breaks, kid. Also, I
thought your brothers liked their privacy.”
“What do Max and Rye have to do with it?” She loved her
brothers. They’d given her everything. After their mom died and Dad had left,
her brothers had been barely eighteen. When they should have been out partying
and living it up, they decided to get jobs and build a business so they could
raise her. She owed her brothers everything.
Ami shrugged like she couldn’t care less. “I mean you said
they fired you for inappropriate comments and making people uncomfortable. I
assume that’s because your brothers are married to the same woman and have sex
together.”
Brooke felt her cheeks flush. “They do not.”
Max and Rye were oddly connected and always had been. If
they were the heroes in a paranormal or fantasy romance, they would be called
bonded twins or something. They could feel when the other was hurt, couldn’t be
happy if they weren’t together.
“That’s not what the papers will say when they pick up the
story,” Ami pointed out. “I can imagine the memes now. Didn’t you say there
were a bunch of relationships like that in that town? I hope they’re ready for
reporters.”
Her gut sank.
Ami wasn’t wrong. It would be a juicy story, and reporters
would come out of the woodwork. They would take everything in the most
salacious manner. She had a sudden vision of her brothers surrounded by
reporters and Rachel getting requests for talk show appearances. Mel would
decide the reporters were aliens and lose his shit, and Caleb would have to tranq him in the middle of town square.
Chaos. It would be chaos when so many people came to Bliss
to find peace and acceptance.
“There it is.” Ami sat back, one beautifully done brow
arching. “I knew you could figure it out. You’ve fucked yourself over by being
an uptight bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
Ami stood. “Look, I get it. All of it sucks, but did you
think of anyone else? I have a real shot at working with Bianchi this fall. I’m
not going to be able to do that if my out-of-touch renter is suing everyone and
making a nuisance of herself. Your best bet is to find something as fast as you
can. I would look to places that do uniforms or maybe the big box retailers.
You’re done in high fashion, and that means I have to be done with you. I think
I have to give you thirty days or something, but consider yourself on a clock.”
Ami walked out, and Brooke sat in stunned silence.
How was this her life? She bragged about how well things
were going a few months ago when she went home for the holidays. She’d talked
with Rachel about work and living in New York. She’d brought her sister-in-law
and Callie some accessory samples. Rachel had been so thrilled with the custom
diaper bag Brooke had made her, and Callie loved her sandals.
They thought she was doing well, were so proud of her, and
she was putting them all in danger.
She should have stayed in Bliss. She’d thought briefly about
not going back to New York. She was lonely. She worked long hours and hadn’t
found many friends she trusted. Ami was awful. It wasn’t like she had anything
going there. Brooke hadn’t been on a date in over a year.
We could go to Stella’s or Trio if you like.
She closed her eyes and could see those two dumbass,
hot-as-hell cowboys standing out in the snow, asking her to go out with them.
Why had she turned them down? She’d been leaving the next
day, and she knew damn well her brothers kind of had a problem with them.
Something about them hitting on Rachel when she first came to town. It didn’t
matter. She’d said no and closed the door on that opportunity.
All her opportunities were getting lost.
Her cell buzzed, and she thought about ignoring it.
Bestest SIL in the World
Rachel. She was pregnant again. What if something went
wrong? She picked up and ran her finger across the screen. “Hey, what’s going
on? Is everything okay?”
It felt like she was living through a slow-moving Armageddon
and everything was falling apart. What if her family was caught in it, too?
A low chuckle came over the line. “Of course. I mean it’s as
okay as it can be when I’ve got three kids under the age of seven and one on
the way. Did I mention your brother finally got that vasectomy? I swear Max is
the biggest damn baby in the world. He claims Caleb made the whole thing extra
snippy. What is that supposed to mean? Doc is a professional. He’s only going
to snip as much as is required to ensure we don’t have baby number five.”
Brooke wasn’t so sure about that. Her brother Max and the
town’s doc, Caleb Burke, had a long history between them. If Caleb could
justify a couple of extra stitches, he might. “I’m glad he finally got it done.
So what’s up?”
She wanted to cry it all out and tell Rachel everything.
Over the years Rach had become the big sister she never had. But she didn’t
want to put any more pressure on her. Finding out the reason they gave for her
getting fired would do exactly that.
“Well, I wanted to let you know that we’re having a baby
boom here in Bliss, and we’ve decided to do a big shower for me and Hope Glen
and Nell.”
“Nell’s pregnant? Again? The last time I talked to her she
was one and done. Something about keeping the population down.” Nell Flanders
had come into town as Brooke was finishing high school. She’d never been
particularly close to her, but she seemed like a nice woman.
“Yeah, Henry got the snip, too,” Rachel admitted. “He
handled it so much better than Max, although he did make sure the bag of frozen
peas he held to his balls were organic. Anyway, I know you’re busy so I wanted
to let you know there’s no pressure for you to come. It’s kind of a last-minute
thing. We’re putting it together for two weeks from now. You’ve been to every
one of mine, and I don’t need anything. It’s more about celebrating Hope, but
she didn’t want to do it alone. I want you to know…”
“I’ll come. I can help.” She took that invite like a damn
lifeline. “I can come out in a couple of days and help you plan and set
everything up. I have a lot of ideas.”
She had no ideas beyond getting the hell out of Manhattan
and clearing her head. She could figure things out. Talk to Gemma privately
about her options.
Breathe. She might be able to breathe.
“Uhm, I thought you would have to work,” Rachel pointed out.
What she wasn’t ready to do was let her brothers know she’d
fucked up so brutally. “I have a bunch of paid time off. I finished a big
campaign a few days ago, and I was thinking about taking a vacation.”
“Sweetie, you should do that,” Rachel replied. “Don’t get me
wrong. I’ll take any excuse to get you home. Your brothers recently finished
the guesthouse. It’s darling, but it needs some interior design. But you’re
young and should have fun. If you come home, you’re going to have kids hanging
all over you.”
Paige and Ethan and Eli. They loved their Auntie Brooke.
They wanted her to play with them and talk to them and have ice cream with
them. They wanted her around. “I can babysit. I want to come home, Rachel. It’s
been…a lot lately. Christmas wasn’t enough time for me. It was too busy.”
“It’s always busy in Bliss,” Rachel admitted. “But I would
love to have you home for a couple of weeks. I could use some help, but I don’t
want…”
The idea that she could feel needed gave her some hope. She
could take a couple of weeks and clear her head. She could figure out what to
do next. “I want to come home for a while, Rachel. I need to come home.”
There was a slight hesitation, and she knew damn well Rachel
suspected something. Brooke breathed a sigh of relief when her sister-in-law
continued. “Well, then I’ll make sure the tiny house is ready for you. I’ll use
stuff from our place, and we can go shopping while you’re here. I would love
your eye for design. I know it’s a guesthouse for you, but I would love for it
to be nice.”
She could make something pretty. She could do something that
helped her family. “That sounds perfect.”
She packed her bags that night. She was surprised at how
little there was. Everything here was Ami’s. She’d moved from dorms in Denver
to a small place she shared with a bunch of students who were in her grad class
at Parsons. Then she’d gotten the job with Bianchi and moved in with Ami.
She’d never had her own place. Never had her own dishes or
furniture. Never picked out curtains. Her whole adult life had been about
preparing for the job, getting the job, doing the job.
Who was she without her work?
It was time to go home.