5. Brooke
Chapter 5
Brooke
T he soft glow of my laptop illuminates the darkened room as I settle into my favorite armchair, feet propped on the worn leather ottoman. The mellow tones of an obscure indie jazz saxophonist float through the early morning air, a soothing counterpoint to the rapid tapping of my fingers on the keys.
I pause, reading over the paragraph I just wrote:
Alessandra, a bold and confident woman, was not one to shy away from what she desired. She had her sights set on the rugged cowboy who had caught her eye at the local saloon. With a toss of her dark hair, she fixated her smoldering gaze on him and purred, "I know what I want, and I always get what I want."
The cowboy was taken aback by Alessandra's boldness but couldn't deny the pull he felt towards her. He was intrigued by her confidence and couldn't resist the challenge she presented. Without a word, he took her hand and led her out into the cool night air.
They wandered through the streets of the small western town, their steps in sync as they talked and laughed like old friends. As they reached a secluded spot by the riverbank, Alessandra turned to face the cowboy with an intense look in her eyes.
"I want you," she whispered, before pulling him into a passionate kiss.
Their bodies pressed against each other as they lost themselves in each other's embrace. The river flowed beside them as their desires flowed freely between them.
God, I wish I had half of Alessandra's confidence. My protagonists are always so bold, so sure of themselves. I, on the other hand, am not – even in the slightest.
I sigh, shaking my head. "Get it together, girl," I mutter to myself and to Pickles my cat, who only ignores me as he cleans himself in inappropriate places. "You're Sophie Quinn, bestselling romance author. Act like it."
Even as I say the words, though, I know they’re not completely true. Sophie Quinn may be bold and fearless on the page, but in real life, I'm just me - a small-town school librarian who can barely work up the nerve to talk to an attractive guy, let alone seduce one.
Flashes of last night at Hooplas talking to Trevor, a trauma surgeon no less, pop in my head. He is so handsome and easy to talk to about anything. He was funny and I never felt like I needed to carry the conversation alone. We laughed and ate, sharing the offending burger and talking for a few hours. And then he even asked for my phone number…and I gave it to him without a second thought.
Maybe I do have some game…or maybe he’s a serial killer. With my luck, it really could go either way, although I didn’t get ‘serial killer’ vibes from him last night. It doesn’t matter though, I’m pretty sure I’ll never hear from him again, and that’s okay. For one night, last night, I had a good time ta lking to a hot guy. More fodder for my books, is how I see it.
I lean back, letting the music wash over me as I try to recapture Alessandra's sultry confidence with the cowboy once again. The saxophone wails a plaintive melody, stirring something deep inside me. For a moment, I let myself imagine I'm the kind of woman who could walk into a bar, lock eyes with a handsome stranger, and...
"No," I groan, shaking off the fantasy. "Focus, Brooke. This book isn’t going to finish itself just by wishing it was done."
I force my attention back to the screen, determined to lose myself in the world of my characters - the only place I truly feel bold and free. As my fingers fly across the keys once more, I push away the nagging voice that whispers how much I wish I could be more like the women I write.
My phone buzzes, startling me out of my writing trance. The morning sunrise off the ocean is filtering through the windows, blinding me. I’ve been writing for a few hours and lost track of time. I glance at the screen, my heart skipping a beat when I see an unknown number. It couldn't be... could it?
With trembling fingers, I answer. "Hello?"
"Brooke? Hi. It's Trevor. From Hooplas last night. I hope I’m not calling too early."
His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. I can't believe he actually called. "Hi. No, not at all. I’m just waiting for my coffee to finish brewing. It’s nice to hear from you." I lie right through my teeth. Can’t very well tell him I’m writing a sultry sex scene between the cowboy and Alessandra as they’re riding a horse while I’m still in my nightshirt, now, can I?
He chuckles, the sound warm and rich to my ears. "I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation. I was wondering if you’d like to grab coffee sometime. Maybe continue where we left off? I’d love to see you again."
He wants to see me again? Holy shit! He wants to see me again!
"I’d love that," I say, struggling to keep my voice steady and channel my inner Sophie Quinn. I run through all the things I need to do this weekend and when I can get them done and come up with a strange time for coffee, but it’s the best I can do. "How about tomorrow afternoon? There’s a great little café, Java Hut, in town. I could meet you there around four?"
"That sounds perfect. I’m looking forward to it, Brooke."
We say goodbye and I can't help but grin.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
I take a deep breath as I toss my laptop onto the ottoman, and I go to the kitchen to make the coffee I just lied about. As the one pod machine starts brewing, I do a little happy dance in the middle of my cozy cottage kitchen. Pickles is watching me and clearly concerned for the state of my mental health, but I don’t care. I’ve got a date with a doctor – a hot and sexy doctor that’s funny and kind.
Still riding the high of Trevor's call, I return back to my laptop and write like there’s no tomorrow, getting so many words written, I lose track of time again. Taking a break to stretch my fingers, a notification catches my eye - a new editorial review for my latest novel was just posted online. My stomach flutters as I click the link. The review overflows with praise for Sophie Quinn’s latest masterpiece.
This is Sophie Quinn’s most captivating and sensual work yet, igniting intrigue and desire in all who read it. The words on the page seemed to come alive, pulsing with untamed energy and raw emotion. This book is a testament to Quinn’s mastery of storytelling, transporting readers into a world of passion and beauty unlike any other .
Pride swells in my chest. This isn’t why I write, but it certainly doesn’t suck, either, to hear that people love what I write.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts as the ‘what ifs’ start to invade my thoughts. "You're fine," I whisper to myself. "No one suspects you to be a bestselling romance author, Brooke. Leave the ‘what ifs’ at the door."
But as I stare at the glowing review, I can't help but wonder how long I can keep living this double life.
The shrill ring of my phone startles me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glance at the screen and see my agent, Melissa’s name flashing.
"Brooke!" Melissa's voice bursts through the speaker as soon as I answer. "Have you seen the review? It's absolutely glowing!"
"I just read it," I say, unable to keep the smile from my voice despite my lingering anxiety. "It's amazing, isn't it?"
"Amazing? It's career-defining! This could be your breakthrough moment, Sophie – I mean, Brooke." Melissa catches herself, lowering her voice. "Sorry, I know we're careful about that."
I twist a strand of hair around my finger, my earlier fears bubbling to the surface. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Mel. I'm... I'm nervous."
"Nervous? Of what? Being rich? Being famous? Making readers drool for your next masterpiece ?"
"Of being found out," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "What if someone connects the dots? What if they realize the quiet school librarian is actually writing these steamy romance novels?"
Melissa's laugh crackles through the phone. "Oh, honey. You've been doing this for years. No one suspects a thing, but so what if they do?"
"But-"
"No buts," she interrupts. "You're too good at keeping your worlds separate. Speaking of which, I've been meaning to ask you something."
I sink deeper into my armchair, bracing myself. "What's that?"
"Why don't you just write full-time now? You're making three times what you do as a school librarian. Heck, if you devoted yourself to writing full time, you could probably quadruple your income in less than a year, and you can lose this constant fear of being found out."
I open my mouth to respond, but Melissa barrels on. "Oh, and before I forget, did you get that weird email I sent you? The one from the 'devoted fan' ?"
"I did," I say, a chill running down my spine as I recall the message. "It was... unsettling."
Melissa scoffs. "Please. It's probably just some overzealous reader. Don't let it get to you. Now, back to my question – why not go all-in on the writing?"
I hesitate, torn between my two worlds. "I don't know, Mel. It's just...I love my job," I say, my voice softening as I think of the bright-eyed children who fill my library each day. "Working with kids... it's not just a paycheck to me, it's a calling. Every time I see a child's face light up when they discover a new story, it's like magic."
Melissa sighs, her exasperation palpable even through the phone. "I get it, Brooke. I do. But you're talented, and you could be doing so much more."
"Maybe," I concede, glancing at the clock. "But for now, this is where I need to be. Listen, I've got to run. It's the last kickball game of the season and I need to get ready. We’re all meeting at the field a bit early for a team meeting."
"Kickball?" Melissa chuckles. "Sometimes I forget you live in a literal Hallmark movie."
I laugh, already reaching for my gym bag. "Trust me, it's more 'Desperate Housewives' than Hallmark sometimes. "
As I hang up, I can't help but smile. Melissa means well, but she doesn't understand. This town, these people - they're my anchor - and I can’t afford to lose any part of this because of my writing. Being found out that I’m Sophie Quinn could ruin everything and I’m just not willing to sacrifice any of it. I know I’m trying to have my cake and eat it too, but I’m willing to live like this to keep my life neatly compartmentalized.
I change quickly, throwing on a pair of yoga pants and my team's bright yellow shirt with The Bad News Babes logo on the front. As I head out the door, my phone buzzes with a text from Kendall:
Kendall: You better hurry! Sunni's already talking about next season's league!
Me: I’m on my way. Hold your horses. The meeting’s not for another half hour.
Once I park my car, I pick up my pace, jogging towards the field as it looks like I’m the last one to arrive. The late afternoon sun warms my skin, and the salty breeze tousles my hair. As I approach, I see Sunni, our eternally enthusiastic team captain, waving her clipboard like a battle flag.
"There you are!" she calls out. "Okay, team huddle! Who's in for next season's league? You should know, it’s going to be co-ed this time. Also, keep in mind, we haven’t won one game this season, so the addition of the opposite sex will probably not help our odds at winning in the slightest."
I join the circle, noting the mix of excitement and trepidation on my teammates' faces. Sunni's eyes are gleaming with that manic energy that always makes me wonder if she's had too much coffee or if she's plotting world domination via amateur sports.
I’m going for world domination. She’s an ER nurse and I can totally see her taking over the world before lunch.
"Co-ed?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Are we that desperate for players?"
Kendall nudges me with her elbow. "Or maybe some of us are just desperate for dates," she whispers, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
I roll my eyes, but I can't help the small flutter in my stomach. The idea of new faces, new possibilities... it's both thrilling and terrifying. I don’t want some guy to be watching me run. Hell, I run like a penguin – that’s not flattering in the slightest.
"Come on, people!" Sunni urges. "It'll be fun! Plus, think of all the fresh meat- I mean, new friends we'll make!"
“I don’t need any fresh meat. I’m getting plenty of…um steak at home.” Kate says as we all groan at her joke. She’s in a happily committed relationship with Hudson. Mia and Riley are also taken, but the rest of us could use some meat in our lives.
As everyone laughs and starts to chatter excitedly, I feel a familiar warmth spread through my chest. This is why I don’t tell people about Sophie Quinn. This sense of belonging, of community. If they all knew – what would they think of me? They’d probably banish me, and these friendships are something I could never get from just sitting behind a computer screen writing fictional characters in fictional worlds.
"Alright," I say, raising my hand. "Count me in."
"Hey, Brooke. Remember when you promised to let me set you up on a blind date?" Charlie asks with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
I can feel my stomach drop as I remember the promise I made months ago. I was hoping she had forgotten about that, but apparently not. I force a smile and reply, "Um...yeah, I do. Why?"
"I've found the perfect guy for you. I'm finalizing the details and it's all set. Be ready." She grins at me like a cat who’s caught a mouse, and I can't help but feel a sense of dread washing over me.
What has my friend gotten me into this time? The unknown always seems to come with unexpected surprises and I can only imagine what kind of chaos Charlie has orchestrated for me.