Chapter Three #5
“Bird, bird, bird. Bird is the word. Is there a point to this?”
“Finn, seriously. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, she’s a doctor, er, resident at UCSF in the pediatric oncology wing.”
Finn nearly choked. It was the first time he’d ever heard Roman mention smart when describing his weekly someone. Usually it was: hot, fun, or in a sorority.
“That’s a first,” Finn remarked dryly. “How did this come about?”
“Well, I was at this thing and someone’s kid got sick with something, so I drove him to the hospital, and we just hit it right off.”
“Is the kid okay?” Finn asked.
“Uh… well, I invited her over for dinner on Friday and I was kind of hoping you and Mum would… you know… make me look good. Say something about how much of an asset to the company I am…”
Finn looked up from his phone for the first time since the conversation began. Not believing what he was hearing.
“Just… be nice, I mean, and say something moderately true about my personality…”
Finn looked blankly at him still.
“Fine. Lie! Lie.”
“What’s this girl’s name?” Finn asked.
“Jane Brooks.”
“Brooks… Brooks as in Brooks Tech? Tyson Brooks?” Finn turned his phone off and looked at Roman for answers.
“I don’t know. Brooks as in Brooks…” Roman shrugged.
Mrs. Woodhouse ended her call and got into the car, kissing Roman on the cheek. “Bye, lovie.”
“Bye, Mum…” he said, with his hand on the door. “You guys work Sundays now?”
“It’s Tuesday, Roman,” Finn replied flatly.
Mrs. Woodhouse and Finn were safely in the car, driving down the winding road, when Finn looked at his mother discreetly.
“Roman is taking out Tyson Brooks’ daughter, Jane.”
“Well, I’ll be…” Mrs. Woodhouse said under her breath.
Finn cleared his throat and placed a call.
“Charlie, transfer me to James—Yes, James, I want you to start buying up chunks of Brooks Tech stock, but not so much that anyone would notice—Brooks. As in brook—brOOK. With a K. Not book—No! I don’t want you buying books. Why would I want you to do that?”
Fairchild looked in the rearview at Clara, who was smiling slightly to herself and putting on lipstick all while shaking her head at their luck.
And this was nothing short of luck.
Woodhouse Corporation had been trying to acquire Brooks Tech for almost twenty years, and if this was what it seemed to be, it might be the perfect opportunity to merge with them…
or absorb them under the guise of a merger.
If this became a reality, it would turn the multi-trillion-dollar Woodhouse Corporation into some serious money.
Fairchild had no doubt that regardless of what Roman might want, he was going to be marrying this Miss Brooks.
“Hope she doesn’t look like her father…” Mrs. Woodhouse muttered.
Finn cracked a grin. “One can only hope not.”
***
January
Flora was sitting at her desk, sifting through the past weekend’s photos, staring at one of her and Alex at Le Bon Marché. Alex was so cute—he had these perfect molasses curls, a mustache that she didn’t mind, adorable brown eyes.
She was smiling at the photo when her phone lit up.
Flora didn’t know that this was the call she’d been dreading since she was twelve.
She picked it up, taking a sip of coffee, and looking at the time. It was late for a phone call from her dad—two in the morning in California. She was nervous already when she answered, then she heard his voice, and her heart went into a drumroll.
“Dad?” she asked, already looking for answers.
“Flora,” he said, “I have some rather bad news.”
“Dad, are you alright?” she asked, her heart racing. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” he said evenly. “But there is news from here that I wanted to tell you before you found out for yourself in some tabloid or something.”
“Oh dear… has Mrs. Woodhouse died?”
“It’s not Mrs. Woodhouse or death, for that matter,” he paused, sounding unsure.
“Dad, you’re scaring me. Just say it.”
He cleared his throat.
A few beats passed.
“Roman… is engaged.”
“Engaged?” Flora asked, shocked. Her breath caught. “Marriage engaged?”
“Yes, that’s the very one,” he replied. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind romance, so it seems. Her name is Jane Brooks.
She’s the daughter of the Brooks Tech man.
She’s a resident at UCSF. It’s one hell of a business deal, but it appears that it started out genuinely.
I know for a fact that Clara and Finn are exploiting the opportunity to acquire Brooks Tech, though publicly it’s being called a merger.
It’s a dream come true. Finn has been trying to weasel his way into Brooks for a few years now.
It was Harry’s greatest wish to take them over.
And, for the first time in twenty years, it appears Tyson Brooks isn’t opposed to the idea. ”
Flora stared out her window as her father continued.
“I guess Tyson is ready to bow out and the timing couldn’t have been better. Plus, Finn is a reliable and brilliant successor. Admittedly, Jane and Roman have only known each other since November, so it’s all been… rather rushed, I’d say.”
Flora was shocked.
She couldn’t imagine Roman being ready for marriage, especially after only two months of dating and at twenty-four.
People got married too young, in her opinion.
She was only twenty-three and she was the first to admit she didn’t know herself very well.
Getting married seemed like an outlandish, preposterous thing to do.
So, yes, she was shocked, but she wasn’t as upset as she would have been a few months prior.
“Are you alright, Flora?” he asked, nervously.
“I’m fine, Dad. Shocked by his sudden commitment skills, but I’m fine,” she replied, truthfully. “Paris has done me a world of good.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You’re not lying to cover anything up?”
“Positive,” she assured him, sighing. “I’ve long since concluded that Roman will never like me. It’s just so strange to think about. He’s only a year older than me.”
“He’s too young.” He sighed, quiet for just a moment.
“Your mother and I got married at that age and it did not work out even a little. So few marriages do nowadays, but even worse when you’re young.
You must self-actualize to be ready for marriage.
You know how I feel. I’d rather you not get married… ”
“I know, Dad.” Flora chuckled. “And, to be honest with you, I’m not sure I ever will now. Paris has changed the way I think. I feel… like myself for the first time in my life. And feeling this way has put things in perspective.”
“Well, you’re proving my point then. You must self-actualize. My own opinions aside, you’ll be back in time to see the whole mess of it, so I’m glad you’re alright. They haven’t set a date yet, but it appears it will be some time in the fall. Possibly September or October.”
“Well. Good for them, I suppose.”
Flora looked at her pinboard. She had covered up Roman’s face a long time ago. A photo of her and Alex was directly over it now.
If this news had come a week after she’d arrived in Paris, she might have cried herself to sleep for the rest of the time. However, when she hung up, she merely shrugged, and went to a cafe with Amandine, Manon, and Camille to tell them the news.
A reaction no one who knew her before would have ever expected.
***
February
Vogue was preparing for another issue.
Flora found herself poring over a set of photos, trying to find the right set for the mess of ugly spring colors they’d procured.
As she stood there, biting her lip and wondering if everyone had lost their minds, Alexandre approached from the side.
“I literally hate these colors for spring.” She eyed him and pointed at the swatches.
“I know this was planned months ago, but fuchsia? Lime? Klein blue? I just hate it! It’s like a circus tent died.
What am I supposed to do with this? The only color I can kind of get behind is the Cloud Dancer Crème.
But you and Clemence have both made it very clear that cream and beige are not my colors, so… ”
Alexandre smiled at her and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“You know I said that one time and you never let me forget it.”
Flora felt the butterfly wings brushing against the walls of her stomach. They’d been seeing each other off and on since November. Nothing had happened outside of dates and some very extensive hand holding and hugging.
Alexandre was a slow mover because of his ex-girlfriend. Flora was a slow mover because she didn’t know how not to be.
“What’s going on?” Flora asked, adjusting her glasses. “You look excited. It can’t be about Heirloom Tomato red. Although I think my face is that color right now.”
“It is… but it’s cute,” he replied, smiling still. “But no, not these gag-worthy colors.” He eyed them with disgust and shook his head. “No, this is much better than that.”
“What is it?”
Alexandre turned a magazine over in his hands and beamed at her. “Look closely.”
Flora’s eyes flicked to him then back to the magazine. It took her a second to understand what he was showing her. He chuckled as he saw her face move from confusion, to shock, back to confusion in seconds.
“That can’t be right,” she said, looking at him for confirmation. “Alex, is this real?”
He nodded, clearly thrilled. Not because it was his photo on the cover of the February issue, but because it was hers.
“But… but they picked this cover months ago! Did they change it?”
“Mariam made a last-minute decision. Cost everyone a lot of time, but it’s worth it. She said your photo had to be the cover.”
Flora let a small shriek of excitement out and hugged Alexandre, who was laughing.
“I’m so excited!”
“You deserve it,” he replied. “You work so hard.”
“Not as hard as you.”
Alexandre squeezed her hand. “Dinner?”
“Tonight?”
“Oui. We should… talk about some things.”
“Okay, sure. But I’ll cook. I’ve been dying for Mexican food and guess what? Paris doesn’t have Mexican food worth eating. I’m going to make tacos.”
“I’m afraid… but okay.”