Chapter Ten
“Voila, beautiful again!” Landon, my makeup artist exclaimed as he stepped back to appreciate his work. “Not that you aren’t beautiful without makeup, my dear, but even the cleanest canvases look beautiful with a portrait painted, no?”
The man had been born and raised in New Jersey, but he had a penchant for dipping into a French accent when he was in his element. It used to make me giggle as a child but now it just made me feel affectionate toward the older man as I watched him pack up his tools.
Like most of the people around me, my ‘looks’ crew had been with me since I was small, graduating from dressing me in stockings and adorable pinafore dresses and into the more mature style that I was wearing during this election cycle.
Landon was no different. He’d gone from being my mother’s primary makeup artist to retiring with me and loving every minute of it. Probably because he got to use glittery eyeshadow. He really loved his glitter eyeshadow.
Apparently it was a fashion faux pas to use glittery eyeshadow on the leader of the free world, so half-retirement it was, only coming out for me when I had events.
“And her hair is at least curling nicely despite being sopping wet,” Lisa picked up for Landon like a dance that they’d been practicing their entire lives—which I guess they had.
They were a part of the same pack, though I wasn’t sure about the dynamics seeing as I was pretty sure Landon wasn’t into women. “We’re geniuses, aren’t we, Lan?”
“Absolute geniuses,” Landon agreed as he took pictures. “We’ll have to send these to everyone to brag.”
I sank into their chatter, letting it soothe my frayed nerves.
Carter was fine. They’d managed to pump what was left of whatever pills he’d taken from his stomach at the hospital and they were keeping him for a few days for monitoring before he would be transferred to the rehab facility my grandfather was getting set up for him.
Just the thought made me want to crawl into the fluffy hotel bed with the padded nest bumpers and hide from the world for a while. My inner omega was practically begging for it… but I couldn’t.
This was the fifth time Carter had relapsed and the second time since our dad had passed away.
The adults had kept me away for the first two—though there was news coverage of it that could easily be found because it had happened when my mother was the governor of Massachusetts.
Then there was the third one when I was just nineteen and Carter had dropped out during his final year of university and had decided to take a gap year staying at our house in the UK.
That had been almost as disastrous as the other ones because he had been all over the British tabloids with the British royals.
I had never seen my dad yell before then.
They dragged Carter home after that and I went out and started working my ass off for weeks at omega centers, building community gardens and attending any event I could to get myself to the front of the newspaper.
And, much to my surprise, it had worked.
The more I put myself in front of the news, the less they focused on Carter and the less pressure was put on my brother. He was finally able to breathe and heal in ways he never had before.
I had protected him then and I felt proud of that.
But right now I just felt tired.
I’d never been the one to directly deal with him before. Our parents or grandparents usually handled that part, but from the moment I saw him this morning I’d had a sneaking suspicion that something was going to happen.
When I left him back in D.C. a month ago he had been calm and unshakeable, like anything could happen and he would have been able to handle it.
Then he’d come into my hotel room and given me a huge bear hug and I’d smelled the overwhelming smell of cologne and had felt how much weight he’d lost in just a month and I’d known.
Before leaving for the omega center I’d sent a text to my mother—one that had gone unanswered until I’d been forced to call her to let her know about Carter’s relapse.
“You have about twenty minutes until we need to get you dressed, sweetheart,” Landon cut through my thoughts, his expression soft. “Why don’t you go grab a bite to eat and then come on back in.”
Food? I thought to myself as my stomach growled. When was the last time I had eaten?
I remembered having a granola bar that morning with my usual water bottle and then I’d drunk part of that Coke back at the omega center before getting that phone call…
My stomach rumbled again, pushing me to my feet as I caught the scent of something delicious in the air.
Stepping into the living room, I found Brooks by himself in the kitchen poking at something on the stove.
“Hey,” he said, offering me that same soft smile that I secretly, deep down, hoped was reserved just for me. “I’ve got some stir fry on and I bet you’re hungry.”
“How’d you know?” I asked as I slid onto one of the bar stools at the counter and checked my phone.
There was a missed call from my mother, but for once I ignored it as I watched Brooks plate out some rice and chicken stir fry before sliding it across the counter to me.
“You haven’t eaten since this morning,” he told me simply as he leaned against the counter directly opposite of me and dug into his own plate with a zeal that I envied.
“You noticed that?” I asked as I took a bite and had to hold back a moan at how good the food tasted.
The chicken, vegetables, and sauce were exactly what I needed at this moment to keep me going.
“I noticed,” Brooks affirmed as he watched me but I continued to eat, oblivious to the man across from me for a few minutes until something bright orange on his plate caught my eye.
Glancing down at my own plate I frowned. “There’s no carrots on my plate.”
Brooks’ auburn brows rose. “Yeah, you don’t like carrots, so I took them out.”
My face flushed at his words. I didn’t like carrots but there had never been a moment for as long as I could remember that someone had taken the time to take them off of my plate.
It was so sweet that I almost felt like I was going to cry.
But then I would have had to go back into my room and have Landon fix my makeup and there was no way I was going to make him do that for a third time today, so instead I took three deep breaths and kept eating before changing the subject completely.
“Is your brother okay? He seemed really angry earlier.”
Brooks’ grip on his fork tightened, but he nodded. “He’s okay, or he will be once he takes some time to calm down. I’m really sorry you had to see that.”
Brooks looked down at my plate. “You need something to drink? I should have offered before giving you your food, my bad.”
He turned and busied himself at the fridge, muttering to himself as he scooped ice into a glass and cracked open a Coke for me before sliding the glass to me.
He’d even put a bendy straw in the cup so that I didn’t completely ruin my lip gloss, I realized with a warm jolt as I sipped the sweet soda.
“Thank you,” I told him softly as I watched him stare down at his plate like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to finish it or not.
“Dallas isn’t a bad guy,” Brooks said suddenly. “It’s just… we’ve been through a lot in our lives and he gets kind of touchy sometimes and what happened today hit a little too close to home.”
“With what happened to Carter?” I asked, prodding gently. It felt like I hardly knew anything personal about the four members of my security team outside of what their files told me.
“Yeah,” Brooks answered, heaving a huge sigh as he finally looked at me with those green eyes that matched his brother’s exactly. “Our mom had a similar, ah, problem to Carter’s, though I think hers may have been a bit more hardcore. I don’t remember much of it, but Dallas… Dallas does.”
“Oh,” was all that came out of me. All that could come out of me.
Brooks nodded, his jaw clenching as he glanced away from me as if he were ashamed to admit it.
“She was an omega whose alphas left her and the omega center was less than helpful. She turned to drugs pretty quickly and we lived like that until we were ten and the courts took us from her. She disappeared after that.”
“Jesus, Brooks, I’m sorry,” I said, and despite knowing it was a bad idea, I reached across the counter and put my hand over his. His knuckles were rough but warm and he quickly flipped his hand so his palm was up, his fingers curling around mine.
Nice, my inner omega purred like this was what she’d been angling for all along and not me just trying to comfort someone who seemed to really be needing it.
Brooks’ eyes crinkled in the corner as he smiled at me. “I wasn’t looking for pity, Lennon.”
“Good,” I shot back, giving his fingers a squeeze. “Because I’m not giving it. But I am hoping to give… I don’t know, camaraderie? Does that sound completely silly?”
Brooks shook his head once. “No, not at all. I just wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone in this shit show… and that Dallas isn’t mad at you. I just think he understands you more than either of you realize.”
I snorted at that. Dallas Wilson seemed like a stubborn asshat that couldn’t look past his own ego. If he really felt the same way that I did then he never would have snapped at me earlier.
…But Brooks didn’t need to know that.
“Maybe,” I surrendered with a sigh. “Thank you for the food, by the way. I feel ready to face tonight now.”
The corner of Brooks’ mouth pulled up into a half-smile. “Anytime, Ms. Holloway, I live to serve.”
A rusty laugh rumbled out of my chest. “In that case, you’re also on dish duty while I go and get dressed, have fun!”
“No fair!” Brooks called after me as I stepped back into my bedroom where the style team was waiting.
“Was that flirting I heard?” Lisa asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“No it was not,” I replied pertly, my cheeks warming. “Now, what dress am I supposed to wear?”