16. Stars Blurred
16
STARS BLURRED
brOOKS
I was smiling again. Not the polished kind I wore for investors or Archer’s networking shenanigans. This was the real deal—effortless, anchored in one woman. It tugged at my mouth every time I thought about her.
Maisy Calhoun. The woman who was now all mine . At last.
Two pretty damn amazing weeks had passed since Holly Creek, since the night she unraveled every part of me and then stitched it back together with her touch. There was no coming down from it, walking through life with the feeling of her in my arms like a permanent imprint—equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
We’d decided to keep things professional at Orion, save for a few stolen touches here and there—a brush of our hands or arms passing by each other, a wink across the room, a quick peck on the temple or a hug when we thought no one else was around.
After hours, we lived like New Yorkers do, and I discovered Maisy didn’t let her small town upbringing stop her from enjoying everything the city had to offer. We sipped cocktails, watching the sunset on a trendy new rooftop lounge, slipped into a dark corner booth at an intimate jazz bar, and walked hand in hand through a Saturday morning outdoor market.
She’d tucked herself under my arm observing performance art on display, teased me with her eyes over a glass of wine at a friend’s wine bar, and during every elevator ride to my loft she practically attacked me like she couldn’t get enough. And when we finally collapsed into bed with each other at the end of every date, it was with laughter still on our lips and hunger still in our bones—making love until the city blinked awake again. We’d wake in each other arms, drink pour-over coffee, which she now had me addicted to. And I hoped I’d get to do it all over again the next night.
“What the hell is that look?” Archer asked, barely glancing up from his tablet. We were in the Bellamy office conference room, reviewing contractor updates on the Orion expansion. He squinted at me. “That grin. You’re looking suspiciously... blissed out.”
I shrugged, stretching my arm along the back of the leather chair, my smile getting cocky. “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”
“You’re in a good mood because you got laid. Repeatedly.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
He smirked. “Touché. Still, you’re acting like the king of the world.”
I didn’t respond, which was answer enough.
Lacey entered the room then, her heels clicking like an accusation against the hardwood floor. She passed out folders without meeting my eye. The tension had grown sharp lately, especially when her hand lingered a little too long on the folder she slapped down on the table in front of me.
“Site walk-through at Orion is at four,” she said, her tone clipped. Again. Another tiny crack in the professionalism I used to admire. Maybe I should have intervened sooner. “I confirmed Maisy will be there.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Lacey.”
No response.
Archer scowled and gave me a pointed look after she left the room. “You need to handle that.”
I scoffed. “I had one discussion with her.”
“Clearly it requires a part two or an addendum.”
“Arch, would you just talk to her for me?”
“No way. I seem to repel every woman I come into contact with lately. I thought maybe I had a chance with Sophie, but she’s had nothing but excuses when I’ve asked her out. Jesus, you have two women and I can’t even get one. What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Nothing, Arch. You haven’t met the right one yet. And I don’t have two women, only one perfect one.” As his twin, his pain resonated with me. Blissfully happy, I wanted that for him, too. “I thought you were starting up with Dax’s MINT?”
“I filled everything out for my profile, but I haven’t pulled the trigger yet. It feels like a copout to use a service like that, doesn’t it? Like I’m some desperate millionaire who can’t get a date.”
I cocked my head. “You are.”
“Screw you, man. Are you driving us in the Maybach today or what?” We had a day full of meetings, the last of which would be at Orion this afternoon. I couldn’t wait to see Maisy.
“Only if you promise to move forward with letting Dax’s algorithm match you up with some sweet honey,” I said.
“Fuck. Fine. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Later, at Orion, during the final walk through on the first phase of the wing, Patterson praised us for getting the project done. Our crews were already tackling phase two of the wing, given the buzzing construction noise and activity nearby.
Satisfied, we followed Patterson’s lead as he moved us into Maisy’s specific room, where she was waiting for us. She took over then, and impressed me, and likely everyone.
“Welcome Dr. Patterson and everyone. Now that the room is finished and ready for testing, congratulations, everyone. You are the first people to test it.” She glowed, and had each of us wear the feedback devices containing censors that would track our physical responses, send the data to her system, and then analyze it.
She walked us through the progressions in the room. Her ponytail high an bounding with each step, and dressed in a pale soft pink suit, she looked every inch the brilliant, sexy scientist I had fallen so damn hard for.
While the CEO nodded throughout, seemingly happy with her results so far, his questions hinted otherwise, grilling her for the details of what she would present at the company’s event, now coined the Orion’s Big Idea Symposium.
“At the symposium, your winning idea will lead and gain the majority of the spotlight, while the other top five ideas will play a minor role in being showcased for the evening as well,” he concluded.
If she was upset by that, Maisy never showed it. Her smile never faltered. Then again, we were in her calm space; she was a little too calm about it.
Patterson praised her efforts so far, adding some pressure, though. “Just to be clear, this is a very important symposium, Maisy. The night you present, our investors will be in the audience. We need to impress them and put our best foot forward. Dr. Stone will reach out to you tomorrow to start her review of your work and to help you prepare your presentation.”
“Wonderful. I look forward to it. Thank you.” She finished the meeting with polite handshakes to everyone and retrieving the feedback devices as they exited. I could tell from her body posture the situation set her back, though.
I thought everyone had left the room, when I turned and brought her in for a quick hug. “You did great,” I whispered, my lips skimming along her forehead.
“You might think so. But why do I feel like Patterson has lost faith in my project?”
“No. You’re reading too much into it. He’s a leader, trying to get the best performance out of you, that’s all,” I explained.
“And you’re my guy, always in my corner, ready to cheer me on?”
“Don’t you know that’s my favorite job—Maisy’s personal cheerleader?” I leaned down for a quick kiss, but heard someone clearing their throat behind us.
Lacey hung back, hovering near the door. When she shot daggers from her eyes toward Maisy, my jaw clenched. “Archer’s waiting for us,” she rolled her eyes and left us.
“What was that about?” Maisy reacted.
“Nothing. I’ll handle it. You just keep your chin up, okay?”
Outside, I caught up with Lacey. “Hey, wait,” I yelled. Archer was taking a phone call up ahead, so this seemed as good a place as any to address her.
She crossed her arms. “What, Brooks?”
“Don’t play games with me. What’s going on?”
Her mouth twisted. “Nothing. Just doing my job. Keeping you and your schedule on track.”
“Is that what you call that? And why are you always so cold to Maisy?”
“I’m not.” She looked away. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. And to this project. I need absolute professionalism from you. And that means you treat everyone I come into contact with respectfully.”
“Right. Got it,” she snapped, and walked off.
I blew out an angry breath and ran a hand through my hair, half tempted to haul myself back into Maisy’s calming room.
At my loft, I texted Maisy to check-in, worried about her state of mind after the meeting today.
Brooks: Working late again tonight?
Maisy: Probably. Halfway through the presentation. Halfway to panic.
Brooks: I’m coming to rescue you. I have something better planned for you.
Maisy: I really should work.
Brooks: Just say yes. Trust me.
She didn’t ask questions when I picked her up from her place. I think she needed the surprise as much as I needed to give it to her.
We drove north, out of the city, and into the hills of Steele Valley, a scenic area surrounding a lake with a hotel resort that catered to the rich and famous.
When I pulled the car into a private driveway, she asked, “Brooks… what is this place?”
“One of my father’s homes. It’s more retreat house than showplace. According to the last email update from his assistant, he’s traveling and not around. So I brought you here to experience something truly magical.”
Part of the house had a flat roof, and a view that made even the stars jealous.
I kissed her hand and said, “If you give me about five minutes to set up a surprise for you, I promise it’ll be worth it.”
I left her in the car with my backpack, got everything in place, and then returned to retrieve her. WhileI led her up a winding staircase to the roof, I told her a little more about the Steele family, and a good friend of ours, Junior Steele, who managed the resort.
At the top, my heart pounded harder than I wanted to admit. She gasped at the path I’d set up with dimly lit lanterns. Soft music hummed through hidden speakers. I’d quickly blown up a bed and had cashmere quilts and satin pillows, the textures ready for her fingers to explore. With a telescope waiting, two filled champagne flutes stood ready to fill.
I smiled, gesturing around the roof. “Welcome to stress relief. Field-tested, Bellamy-certified.”
Eyes glassy, she exuded gratitude. “I’m going to cry. I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
“You don’t know by now? I’d do anything for you, Mais. Now, jump on my back. I’ll give you a ride.” As she did, her laughter rang out into the night. I led us over to the bed, letting her down gently.
Before we got too far into the night, I handed her a black velvet box. “For you.”
“What? Brooks, it’s not my birthday or any major holiday.” Her fingers played across the velvet, gazing at me.
“It’s a just because gift. I saw it and thought of you. Open it.”
She flipped lid open and blinked. She brought it closer, then laughed. “It’s a beautiful brain!” I gave her a delicate, rose gold necklace with a charm shaped like a brain—because of course I did. What else would suit Maisy, something so quirky and unique just for her from me.
“I love it. Put it on,” she insisted and shifted, flipping her hair up in back so I could manage the clasp on the it.
“Nice. I’m glad you like it.” I admired the way the pale gold set against her skin the entire time we sat, sipped, and stargazed. She told me stories about her research on the ship, and about the incredible night skies she witnessed there.
“Sometimes, late at night when I couldn’t sleep, I’d sneak onto the top deck and stargaze. Those moments alone to reflect about my day, or my life in general, were almost like talking to God. It’s part of what helped me get through being thousands of miles away from everyone and everything I knew.” She hesitated, then said, “Patterson scared me today.”
“No. Don’t let him have that control over you,” I responded, irritated at Patterson for doing that to her.
“I’d been so sure of myself, Brooks, at being able to handle this huge project, excited even to present my research. Then one little doubt from him today and... yeah. I can feel it festering and eating away at me.”
“Then you really needed this tonight, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I did. Thank you.”
“If you want, I can go sit in the car for a while, give you space so you can talk to God,” I offered.
She sputtered and patted a tear at the corner of her eye. “No. Stay. I need you.”
“Yeah? Need me here?” I kissed her temple. “How about here?” I nuzzled her neck and whispered, “Just say where you need me the most and I’ll be there.”
She pulled me on top of her, laying back. I shifted to my knees, hands sliding over her thighs, her waist, under her shirt, massaging her breasts. She arched into me, breath catching.
“I need you everywhere, Brooks,” she moaned.
“Hm. What does research say about sex and stress relief?” I teased, bringing the blanket over us.
“There are plenty of studies that prove sex can be powerful for relief.”
“Then let’s test that theory ourselves...”
We undressed slowly, the light warm breeze brushing by, the sky watching above us. Every movement, every sigh, every kiss filled with things we still hadn’t said. But she was soft, eager. When I moved over her, I worshipped her, thrusting everything I had inside of her, until the stars blurred, the world disappeared, and all that existed was us.