Chapter 45
ALEX
New York Fashion Week is a crazy but invigorating time.
A week hosting VICs, securing major retail orders, scouting new creative directors, and managing corporate public relations before doing it all again in London, Milan, and Paris.
It requires me to use and adapt every skill I’ve ever learned, times a thousand.
Brooke is back on her game, holding down the fort in the office, which has turned out to be a blessing, while Daphne, Teresa’s PA, has stepped up to meet and greet our clients and the press corps.
There’s been no further mention of Friday’s slip-up.
Mother mentioned that Brooke had had a migraine and looked tired, and that I shouldn’t overwork her.
I didn’t mention that Brooke has taken to leaving on time every Tuesday and Thursday, especially after Mother had the audacity to visit her at home.
They have some weird relationship, one I cannot fathom.
My mother has never been the maternal type, more of a career woman, so her interest in Brooke confuses me.
We say goodbye to the last guests before I head back upstairs, Mother in tow.
“Congratulations again, Sandro. Your speech announcing the company’s new initiatives went well, not to mention the show itself was a huge success.”
“Thank you. I’m pleased with where we’re heading. Tomasso and our other suppliers are very much on board too.”
“No Brooke?” Mother says as we arrive at my office.
“She’ll be around somewhere,” I say dismissively. “She’s not chained to her desk.”
“Of course not. It’s just that I wanted to say hello, check that she hasn’t had any more migraines.”
“She’s not said anything,” I say.
“Well, that’s good.”
I’m sure there’s more to her interest than simply checking on Brooke.
We step into my office, and Brooke’s scent hits me instantly.
What?
“I’m going to go,” Mother says, air-kissing my cheeks. “Say goodbye to Brooke and tell her I’m sorry I missed her.”
I frown, my mind wandering.
“Sandro?”
I run a hand down my face. “Sorry, not enough coffee this morning, and it’s been a long week.”
“Get some rest. These next few weeks are a marathon, not a sprint. You’ll be doing this all over again in a few days.”
“Don’t remind me.” I groan.
“You’re a natural,” she says.
I’m not so sure. I love the fashion world, the designs, the fabrics. It’s easy to be passionate about something you care deeply about.
“I’d better go. I’ll see you at the airport.”
“Enjoy your weekend,” I say, walking her to the door and seeing her out. I don’t miss the look she shoots at Brooke’s desk as she passes. I close the door behind her and head to my private bathroom.
I tap on the bathroom door.
“You can come out now,” I say quietly, not sure why she’s hiding in there, but it’s where the smell of her perfume is strongest.
There’s a click as the lock disengages.
I should be annoyed, angry, even. My PA is in my private space. Why?
I’m not sure what to expect, but it certainly isn’t what I’m faced with.
“Alex, I’m sorry I…”
Her eyes refuse to meet mine, but there’s no mistaking the fact she’s been crying, and not just a little bit.
“Brooke?” I say, gently taking her forearm and guiding her to the couch in the corner of the room.
She sits, swiping at her cheeks.
I grab an unopened bottle of water from my desk, crack the seal, and hand it to her.
“Drink.”
She takes it and raises it to her lips. It’s impossible to miss the tremor in her hand.
Shit!
“Brooke,” I say gently. “What’s happened? Are you hurt? Has someone done or said something?”
Pressure builds in my chest at the thought that someone may have done something to her.
I scan her body for marks or injuries.
She shakes her head.
“Want to tell me why you’re upset? Why were you hiding in my bathroom?”
It’s clear that whatever it is, she doesn’t want to be seen in the communal bathrooms. She wanted to cry in private.
A breakup with a boyfriend?
The thought makes my chest tighten even more.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“Brooke, stop. I’m not cross. Just tell me what’s upset you.”
“It’s my sister,” she whispers, her breath catching.
“Kat?”
She nods.
“What about your sister?”
“I just got a call to say she’s been rushed to hospital. She was found in her apartment… she’s sick, really sick. They’re taking her into surgery.”
Fresh tears spill down her cheeks, and I turn and grab the box of tissues from the table next to the couch.
I don’t usually have people break down in my office.
I’m not sure I give off the warm-and-fuzzy vibes to my employees, but with Brooke it’s different.
Even so, I doubt she intended me to see her like this.
“Do you need to leave? I can book you a flight,” I say, knowing if it were Gabbi or Enzo in hospital, I’d want to be by their side.
She shakes her head, more tears tracking down her cheeks.
“They’ve told me to stay here. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Who has?”
“My family. They said they’d call as soon as there’s any news.”
Her words sting. Family sticks together. How can her family tell a twenty-four-year-old she shouldn’t come home to see her critically ill sister after calling to let her know?
Brooke is clearly devastated.
I place a hand over hers and gently squeeze before getting up and moving to my desk.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I turn to face her.
“For what?”
“All this… You’ve got enough on, what with fashion week. I told you after last week there would be no more issues.”
I shake my head. “Some things are out of our control. You’re allowed to have feelings, Brooke.”
Her phone rings, and we both jump.
“Are you going to get that?” I ask.
“It’s my brother,” she says, her voice hitching as she slides it out of her pocket and answers. “G,” she whispers.
I turn away, offering her and her brother some privacy, wondering if they’re going to tell her they’ve changed their minds and she should come home. My stomach hardens at the thought.
“I’ll try… Look, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
I flinch at her words and listen as she says goodbye to her brother.
She ends the call and drops her head into her hands, rubbing her eyes.
“The doctors think she has peritonitis,” she whispers. Pain-filled eyes rise to meet mine. “From untreated appendicitis.”
Her hand flies to her mouth as a sob escapes her. I’m by her side in an instant, my arm snaking around her shoulders, pulling her against my chest, as her body is racked with heart-wrenching sobs.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I whisper against her hair.