15. Brooke
Chapter 15
Brooke
A s I push open the school library's heavy oak doors, my heart skips a beat. There he is—Trevor, leaning casually against a nearby tree, a wicker picnic basket with a bottle of wine sticking out dangling from one hand. His eyes light up when he spots me, and I feel a flutter in my chest.
"Hey there, beautiful," he calls out with a grin. "Ready for some fresh air?"
I can't help but smile back. "Absolutely. What's in the basket?"
Trevor winks. "That's for me to know and you to find out. Shall we?" He offers his arm, and I take it, relishing the warmth of his body next to mine.
We stroll towards the park, fallen leaves crunching beneath our feet. The crisp autumn air carries the sweet scent of late-blooming hibiscus, and I breathe it in deeply.
"So," Trevor says, "I hear you're involved in the Hibiscus Festival this year? Are you entering the Miss Hibiscus contest, because you’d win in a landslide."
I nod, surprised he knows anything about it. "Yeah, I'm manning the library booth, but not entering the contest. How did you hear about that? "
He chuckles. "Small town, remember? News travels fast. Plus, I may have asked around about you a bit."
My cheeks warm at the thought of Trevor being interested enough to ask about me. God, even I can hear my insecurities coming out. "Well, it's not exactly glamorous work, but I’m excited about it. I'll be handing out bookmarks, stickers, and promoting our new online catalog system."
"Sounds riveting," he teases, nudging me gently with his elbow.
I laugh, feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks. "Hey, don't knock it. Those bookmarks may be collector's items one day."
We select a semi secluded spot under a grand oak tree as Trevor sets down the basket and begins unpacking it. I watch him, marveling at how easy it feels to be around him. There's no pressure, no need to impress or hide. Well, almost no need to hide.
"So, tell me more about this festival," Trevor says as he hands me a sandwich. "I'm usually either working or sleeping during these things."
I take a bite of the sandwich he hands me, savoring the flavors before responding. "It's kind of a big deal around here. The whole town gets involved. There are food stalls, craft booths, the Miss Hibiscus contest, live music—and of course, the hibiscus flower competition."
"Hibiscus flower competition?" Trevor raises an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
"Oh yeah," I grin. "People take it very seriously. You should see the lengths some folks go to for the perfect bloom. It’s crazy competitive."
As we continue to chat and eat, I find myself relaxing even more. The breeze rustles the leaves above us, and for a moment, I allow myself to imagine a life where I could always be this open, this free. As I look at Trevor's warm smile and kind eyes, I can't help but wonder what if I could trust him with the truth about me and Sophie Quinn?
A flash of movement catches my eye, and my heart nearly stops. There, on the path not twenty feet away, stands Joan, one of the Walking Ladies. Her keen eyes are fixed on us, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Oh no," I mutter, instinctively ducking my head.
Trevor follows my gaze. "Everything okay? You know her?"
I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. "That's Joan Simmons. Former school librarian, current town gossip. She's part of the Walking Ladies group."
"I know who the Walking Ladies are - everyone does." Trevor chuckles.
"You're not far off," I say, forcing a laugh. "They know everything about everyone in this town."
As Joan slowly ambles past, she waves, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. I wave back, my stomach churning.
"She’s harmless enough," Trevor says.
"Trust me, she is… mostly," I mutter. "Those ladies have somehow wormed their way into everyone’s lives." I’ve spent my entire adult life, ever since I started writing as Sophie Quinn, trying to avoid all four of those ladies because they have a way of getting you to tell them all your darkest secrets and I don’t need my secrets getting out.
Trevor reaches out, his hand covering mine. "Hey, you okay? You seem tense all of a sudden."
I take a deep breath, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. It's just... small town life, you know? Everyone's always watching."
"So what," he says, squeezing my hand. "Hey, we're not doing anything wrong. Just two people enjoying a picnic together. Besides," he takes my hand and kisses the back of it, “I want the entire world to know that you’re mine.”
If only he knew the half of it, I think. But I can't bring myself to burst this bubble of normalcy, not yet. “Well, I’m yours as long as the reverse is true.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Trevor leans over and kisses me when suddenly I hear a small voice from across the park.
“Get a room.”
We both look over and see Joan laughing at the two of us.
“So, did we just agree to be in a relationship?” I ask nervously, “I mean…never mind. You don’t have to answer that.” I wave my hand dismissively. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” I’m trying to backtrack here unsuccessfully.
Trevor grabs my hand and pulls me up on my feet. He tugs and I fall into his arms. “Hey, stop it.” His arms wrap around me, holding me tight. “Yeah, we are in a relationship, Brooke, if you want to be. I sure as hell want to be in one with you.”
I lean back so I can see his eyes, “You do? With me?” What the hell is wrong with me and my insecurity today? It’s in full force.
He laughs, “Yes, with you. Are you okay with that?”
Suddenly, my heart flutters and I smile at him. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”
“Good. Now, let me kiss my woman.” He leans in as his lips softly touch mine. His kisses are so addicting, but a gust of wind blows and the tree above us drops a bunch of leaves on top of us and our food. We laugh as we pull apart and brush the autumn leaves out of each other’s hair and out of our meal.
As the sun begins to set, Trevor starts packing up the picnic. "I hate to cut this evening short, but I've got an early morning tomorrow. I’ve got a big and complicated surgery in the OR, and I need to get my sleep."
"Of course," I say, helping him fold the blanket. "Saving lives is pretty important. Besides, I’ve got some things to get done tonight, too. Someone’s been keeping me up late at night the last few nights " I wiggle my eyebrows, “Although, I’m not complaining in the slightest.”
He grins, those dimples making my heart flutter. "What do you say we do this again tomorrow night? I promise I won't have to rush off then."
I don’t hesitate for a moment, I start nodding. "I'd like that."
"Great," he says, his smile widening. "I'll pick you up at seven?"
"Seven it is," I agree, wishing it was already tomorrow night.
"I had a great time, Brooke," he says softly as we walk hand in hand back to the school and where my car is parked.
"Me too," I whisper, my heart racing.
He leans in, and I find myself rising on my tiptoes to meet him. Our lips touch, and suddenly it's like electricity is coursing through my body. His kiss is gentle but passionate, and I feel myself melting into it. My hands find their way to his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.
When we finally break apart, I'm breathless. Trevor's eyes are dark with desire, and I can see he felt it too.
"Goodnight, Brooke," he murmurs, his voice husky.
"Goodnight," I manage to reply, fumbling for my keys.
Once I make it home, I step inside and close the door and lean against it, my heart still pounding. What am I doing? This isn't just a harmless flirtation anymore. I'm in deep here, and I know it.
I make my way to my study, collapsing into my writing chair. It’s actually a regular armchair, but I do all my writing from here, so it’s now got the moniker of being called ‘my writing chair’. Pickles meows as he climbs onto the arm of my chair looking for some love and I willingly oblige.
The blank document on my computer screen next to me seems to mock me, the cursor blinking accusingly… mocking me like the little bastard has a right to. I should be finishing my next book, but all I can think about is Trevor.
Part of me wants to throw caution to the wind, to let myself fall completely for Trevor and damn the consequences. I want to tell him everything – about my writing, about Sophie Quinn, about who the real me is.
But then the fear creeps in. What if he can't handle the truth? What if he feels betrayed? What if he realizes I make way more money than he does and he can’t handle it? I don’t think he’s like that, but who knows. Some guys just can’t handle that. Or worse, what if he accidentally lets it slip to someone else? Everything I've worked for, the life I've built here, could all come crashing down in an instant.
I stare at the computer screen, willing the words to come, but they don't. Instead, all I see is Trevor's face, feel the ghost of his kiss on my lips.
"This is impossible," I groan, pushing the laptop away from my lap. How can I focus on my fictional world when my real one feels like it’s in such turmoil?
The shrill ring of my phone cuts through my internal struggle. I glance at the caller ID and groan. Melissa. My agent who I know is going to ask me about my latest manuscript. I take a deep breath, plastering on a cheerful voice as I answer.
"Hey, Melissa! What's up?"
"Brooke," Her voice crackles with enthusiasm. "How's that book coming along? We're all dying to see what Sophie Quinn has in store for us next."
Bingo – called it.
I wince, glancing at the blank document on my screen. "It's... coming along. You know how it is, some days the words flow, and others..."
"Well, pick up the pace, honey, because I've got some big news and we’re going to need that book finished for it!" Melissa barrels on, not waiting for my full response. " You've been invited to headline the Autumn Leaves Literary Festival in Pelican Point! It's a huge honor, Brooke. All the top names will be there."
My stomach drops. "A... a signing?" I stammer. "Melissa, you know I've never done one of those before. I can't just-"
"Brooke," Melissa cuts in, her tone softening. "I know you're hesitant, but it's time. You can't keep hiding behind the pen name forever. Your readers are clamoring to meet the real Sophie Quinn.”
I sink deeper into my chair, my mind racing. "But if I do this, everyone will know who I am. My whole life here, my privacy..."
"Listen to me," Melissa says firmly. "You can't keep turning these opportunities down. The money, the fame, it won't last if you stay in the shadows. Readers will get tired of the mystery act eventually. You need to make a choice, Brooke. Are you ready to be Sophie Quinn in the real world, or not?" She softens her voice, “I promised you years ago when we first started that when it was time to come out from the woodwork, I would tell you. Now’s that time, Brooke. It’s now.”
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. "I... I don't know, Melissa. Can I think about it?"
"Of course, but don't take too long. This is a golden opportunity to do this." She pauses, then adds more gently, "Just remember why you started writing in the first place. Wasn't it to connect with people? This is where you get to do that."
As I hang up with her, I stare at the phone in my hand, Melissa's words echoing in my mind. Connect with people…but at what cost? I love my life here in my small town, my job with my kids, and this budding relationship with Trevor. Showing up as Sophie Quinn at a signing will definitely change all of that – but will it be for the good or will I regret it for the rest of my life?
I slump back in my chair, my heart pounding as if I've just run a marathon. The silence in my small home office feels oppressive, broken only by the ticking of the antique clock on my desk.
"What am I going to do?" I whisper to Pickles, running my fingers down his back as he purrs loudly.
The thought of revealing myself as Sophie Quinn sends a wave of panic through me. I stand up abruptly, needing to move, to do something. Pacing the room, I try to imagine what it would be like to step out from behind the curtain…to show the world who I really am.
"Hi, I'm Brooke, but you might know me better as Sophie Quinn," I practice saying out loud, then immediately cringe. "God, that sounds ridiculous."
I pause at the window, looking out at the quiet street of our small town. How would my neighbors react if they knew? Would Joan and the other Walking Ladies treat me differently? Of course they would. They’d be shocked. And what about my friends? They have no clue that I write and finding out that I’m the author of the books that they have been raving about might kill our friendship.
And Trevor... what would he think? Would he be embarrassed to be dating someone that writes sex scenes, or would he feel emasculated by the differences in our income? I’m sure he thinks he makes way more money than an elementary school librarian, and he would be right, but that money just goes directly to my retirement account. Sophie Quinn’s money is what pays my bills.
The image of his warm smile flashes in my mind, followed quickly by the memory of our kiss. My cheeks flush, and I press my forehead against the cool glass.
"Trevor," I murmur. "Would you still want me if you knew?"
I turn back to my desk, eyeing the manuscript I've been working on. It's my best work yet, full of passion and depth. Is it worth sacrificing my anonymity and my peaceful life here?
"Maybe I'm just not cut out for fame," I say to the empty room. "Maybe I should just keep things as they are."
But even as the words leave my mouth, I know it's not that simple. Melissa's right - I can't keep hiding forever. Sooner or later, I'll have to make a choice, I just thought I’d have more time.
I sink back into my chair, feeling utterly overwhelmed. "I'm just not ready," I whisper, closing my eyes. "Not yet, but soon."