Chapter 31
Sloane
Standing in front of the café, I took a deep breath.
Over the smells of Chicago, I could just make out the rich aroma of coffee and fresh baked pastries.
I peeked in the window. It was late afternoon, and though it wasn’t busy, there were still a number of people sitting at the tables, enjoying their coffee and sweets.
Among them was my old friend, Brooklyn.
“Take your time,” Lee murmured from beside me. He was tucked out of view but standing close enough that I still felt safe.
I would have felt better with Kolton here, but Lee was still upset over our relationship and wouldn’t listen to my pleas to let him stay with me until this was done.
Lee offered me a smile, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. I tried to smile back, but my stomach chose that moment to flutter, and I was sure whatever happened on my face made me look like a psychopath.
“I’m ready,” I said, knowing that any further delay would only make what I had to do harder.
“I’ll be right here if you need me.” The big man patted his left side, like I needed a reminder that he was armed.
The café was much darker inside than out, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. I blinked a few times and looked around the room, as if I didn’t know exactly where Brooklyn was seated. Before I could turn my attention to her table in the center of the room, a little girl close to me gasped.
“Daddy, Daddy, look!” She pointed a tawny finger my way, her amber eyes wide. “It’s Sloane! My favoritest singer ever!”
The little girl’s dad looked up from his Danish and met my eye. “Well, would you look at that.”
I stepped closer, watching as her smile got so big it threatened to swallow her face. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
She whipped around in her chair and whispered-yelled loud enough for everyone in the café to hear her. “Can I tell her, Daddy? Can I?”
“Of course, you can, baby.” As his daughter spun back toward me, he winked at me.
“My name is Azalea Jane Abrams, but all my friends call me Zalea. You can call me Zalea too, because you’re my biggest fan.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I am your biggest fan, Zalea.”
She slapped her palm over her eyes. “I meant, I am your biggest fan.”
“You are? Well, aren’t you sweet?” I reached my arms out and lowered myself to one knee. “How about a hug?”
Once again, she asked her dad for permission—“Can I Daddy? Please?”—before she leapt off her chair and wrapped her little arms around me.
I locked eyes with him again and, silently, thanked Weston Abrams for offering to bring his daughter along today.
Because this hug was exactly what I needed to remind me why I was here.
My fans, no matter how big or small, made everything I did worth it.
I chatted with Zalea for a few minutes, then signed my name on a piece of paper Weston pulled from his inside jacket pocket and gave it to the girl. Finally, when I procrastinated enough, I wished them a great rest of their day then turned to face Brooklyn.
She was smiling at me, but it wasn’t the same expression I had grown used to seeing on her face. There was a quality to it that felt off—like she was less than happy to see me but didn’t want me to know.
Brooklyn stood from her seat, swept her long, honey-blonde hair off her shoulder, and straightened her skirt. Then she opened her arms and came toward me.
I wanted to run. My gaze darted to the side, and I met a pair of dark eyes. Van Thaylor had one hand flat on the table and his other tucked inside his jacket. It wasn’t until Brooklyn let go and edged back that he lowered his hand—though he didn’t relax.
“Bish! Look at you!” Brooklyn smirked at me as she moved to sit back down. For a moment, my old friend was there again, flopping into her chair before she remembered her life was one giant act. She sat up straight and tossed her hair over her shoulder again. “I see you finally lost the loser.”
My gaze whipped up from the table, and it took everything in me to remind myself I had a part to play too. I smiled and shrugged, feigning a nonchalance I could never feel.
“Yes, he’s gone. After everything that’s happened, it became clear it really wasn’t working out.”
“I knew you’d come around.” She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “Why would you want someone hovering over you and trying to control everything you do?”
I tried not to scoff. Not to point out that’s exactly what I escaped from when I left Beckett behind.
Luckily, a waitress stopped at our table and took my order as the door opened behind me.
Brooklyn stared off into space until she was gone but turned her attention to a young couple and their adorable baby girl as they took a seat not far away.
For the first time since I went on tour, I saw a genuine smile on my old friend’s face.
She’d always had a soft spot for kids—something Beckett most certainly did not have.
The waitress came back with my coffee, and it seemed to remind Brooklyn she wasn’t here to ogle babies or dream about the life she’d never have with Beckett Giles. She turned her attention back to me and dug right back in where she’d left off.
“Now that your stupid bodyguard is out of the way, are you planning on coming back to L.A.?”
I took a sip of my coffee to cover the scowl I wanted to give.
“I’ve thought about it.” I shifted in my chair, leaning closer to her.
A smile grew across her face, like she thought this was some secret I was spilling rather than a fabricated lie.
“I mean, what’s really here for me in Chicago, you know?
Sure, my family is here, but I don’t have any friends here. ”
My gaze drifted to the couple with the baby.
Vinny’s wife, Jen, dropped by Bridgewater yesterday while we were discussing this meeting with Brooklyn.
When she saw how nervous I was, she insisted she and Baby Rosie be here with me for support.
I hardly knew her but knowing that she would drop everything to help a relative stranger had warmed my heart.
My attention moved from Rosie’s chubby cheeks to where Van sat with Drea. He pursed his lips and dipped his head, urging me to go on.
“And it’s not like I have a boyfriend to keep me company.” I looked back at Brooklyn in time to see her mask slip, revealing her real fear.
Kolton had suggested it. Vinny had agreed with him once he heard. And Brooklyn’s slip up proved them both right.
She was worried about my relationship with Beckett and what that meant for her.
My lungs clenched and my eyes grew hot as my vision blurred. I looked away and could just make out Joss’s sad smile from where she sat at the table in the corner with Rylan.
Brooklyn tossed her hair yet again, and her gaze danced around the room. “Um. Well. If you don’t have friends here, what’s the point? Come back to Cali where you belong.”
“Maybe I will.” I shrugged, then held her gaze while I took a long drink from my cup.
She crossed her legs under the table. Combed her fingers through her long hair.
Uncrossed her legs and shifted in her seat.
I smiled at her, though it seemed to give her no comfort, and sat back in my chair. “How’s Beckett?”
Brooklyn flinched, then tried to cover it up by crossing her arms. “He’s fine. Great. Everything is good.”
“And your… relationship?” I asked, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger.
“My relationship?” She crossed her legs again. Furrowed her brow as her eyes narrowed. She shook her head. “Beckett and I are great, actually. We’re in love.” She flashed her massive engagement ring at me before lifting her coffee cup to her lips. “We’re planning a spring wedding.”
“Is that so?” One side of my lips curled up. “And he’s okay with that?”
“He’s more than okay.” She shifted in her seat again, leaning closer. “He’s actually ecstatic about it.”
“Wow.” I kept my voice flat. “That’s really fantastic.”
She huffed out a breath and shook her head before putting her forearms on the table and moving even closer to me. “I see what you’re doing, Sloane, and it’s not going to work.”
“Oh?” I took a sip from my cup. “What is it I’m doing, Brooklyn?”
“You’re not getting back together with Beckett. He and I are in love. We’re getting married.”
“Who said I wanted to get back with Beckett?” I tilted my head to the side. “Has he asked about me?”
Her eyes flashed before she schooled her face. “Of course not. He never even talks about you.”
“Huh.” I pulled my purse from the floor and set it in my lap. “And here I thought all those times he visited me the past couple months meant something.”
“He hasn’t come to visit you,” she said, her voice rising in pitch.
I pursed my lips to keep from smiling too big.
“Did you know, he cheated on me too?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t.”
“I mean, aside from the obvious”—I gestured at her—“he as much as admitted to my face that he was fucking other women. I think his words were, ‘Of course I’m going to find someone to fuck when you’re not around. What else am I supposed to do?’”
Lifting my cup to my lips, I took another sip. Brooklyn looked like she might be sick.
“Did you hear about the break in at my condo? I mean, I’m sure you did. It was all over the news, along with rumors that I’d been killed.”
“So?”
“So.” I shrugged. “We couldn’t figure out how she got inside. Beckett either, by the way—back when he came to see me and got hauled away by the police after assaulting my bodyguard. That is, until we found the emails.”
“What emails?”
“Between Beckett and Monica’s assistant, Tami?
I guess he probably didn’t tell you.” I leaned closer, like we were just two friends sharing gossip.
“Tami’s cousin, Byron, worked for my building’s security office.
That’s actually how I was able to get in to see my condo before it was listed—he gave her the heads up when he heard it was going on the market.
Anyway, Tami and Beckett had been emailing each other since I signed with Monica, right?
And, well, you know how things go. They got to know each other, she shared information about me with him, and he shared his dick. ”
“He didn’t,” she said, her voice tight.
I sighed and sat back in my chair. “Poor Byron. He was strapped for cash, you see. His son was born early and was in the NICU, and the medical bills were piling up. At first, Tami just wanted to help her cousin, but, well… You know how Beckett is. No matter who it hurts, he always finds a way to get what he wants.”
Brooklyn glanced away, her eyes glazed. “Not everything,” she murmured, quiet enough that I barely heard.
“No?” I turned my head, a smile floating on my lips. “What is it he wants?”
“It doesn’t matter!” She slapped her hand on the tabletop, startling little Rosie and making her whip around in her mother’s arms. As her chin wobbled and tears formed in her eyes, Brooklyn continued as if no one else were here. “He’s not getting you back, do you understand me?”
Her voice was so loud, it drew the attention of everyone in the room.
One of the men at a table behind Brooklyn rose from his seat, gesturing to Jen.
She slipped from her chair, taking her child with her as she rushed his way.
Seconds later, Zalea dashed by, chasing after them before he waved the café staff out the door to the back room.
Swallowing hard, I turned my attention back to Brooklyn. “I don’t understand.”
“Beckett might have ways of getting what he wants,” she hissed, “but I’m not letting him go.
All my life, I’ve watched you get everything you wanted while I stood by in the shadows and picked up your table scraps.
But I’m not letting that happen anymore.
I’ve wanted Beckett since before your stupid dad died, and all he could talk about was you.
I thought I finally got rid of you when you left Calvin, but then that asshole came up with that stupid scheme to track your every fucking movement, and Beckett became even more obsessed. ”
She scowled and shook her head.
“I thought if I played along, he’d realize you were nothing special and take our relationship seriously. I did everything I could to show him that I’m the one for him, but all he cared about was money, and Calvin insisted you were better for his image than me. But I showed him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sloane’s Squad may have been Calvin and Beckett’s idea, but I’m the one who made it work.
” She pounded her pointer finger into her chest. “I’m the one who planted those stupid trackers in your purses.
I’m the one who rallied your fans. Beckett wanted to scare you enough to make you come running back to him. But I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
Brooklyn shoved the table, sending it flying into my gut. My breath shot out of me and tears welled in my eyes.
“I should have found better people to come after you. Destiny got herself locked in your stupid closet, for fucks sake. If she couldn’t even get herself out of there, how was she supposed to hurt you bad enough to keep Beckett from wanting you?”
“You planted the GeoDots?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“I sure as hell did!”
“And you wanted to hurt me?”
Brooklyn rolled her eyes and stood up. “I would have had you killed if I could have found someone competent enough to do it. Beckett is mine. Stay the fuck away from him!”
The big man who’d been sitting at the table behind Brooklyn stood. He gave me a nod, and I let out a huge breath.
“Don’t worry,” I told Brooklyn. “Neither one of us is going to get anywhere near Beckett for a long, long time.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Brooklyn O’Dell?” The man stepped up beside her, his large gut making it a tight fit between the tables.
“Who the fuck are you?”
His gentle face grew hard. “I’m Officer Eugene Linden with the Chicago Police Department, and you’re under arrest.”