14. Brooklyn
brOOKLYN
There’s an actual journalist in our house.
Not a glossy, perfectly coiffed media reporter from some fluffy online celebrity blog like we’re used to.
Not a writer from an entertainment news channel.
In fact, this one is about as far from Celebrity Chat as you can get.
Julia Espinoza is a serious-looking woman in her fifties with a journalism degree and a flawless reputation for reporting the hard facts, and she’s preparing to interview Luka and me in our living room about my father-in-law’s ongoing trial. On prime time.
I’ve never been this nervous about an interview before, and at this point we’ve done a lot of them.
But this is the pinnacle of our PR blitz, and I’m terrified I’ll say the wrong thing.
How can I not feel intimidated when I know this woman isn’t here to sugarcoat Luka’s dark past or get cutesy quotes from us?
She’s going to ask hard, prying questions, completely unrelated to how my modeling career is going or where Luka has his bespoke suits made.
She’ll want the ugly truth—the nitty gritty on Konstantin and what went on at KZ modeling behind closed doors.
Luka’s been pacing all morning and I’ve been at a loss as to how to comfort him.
He took Mr. Kibbles on two separate walks and then retreated into his office to go over some of the lines Stefan gave him—responses to keep in mind in case the questions get too personal, or if an honest answer might compromise Konstantin’s trial.
We also received a list of likely topics.
As for me, I’ve been stress-texting Mateo and trying to take comfort in his efforts to soothe me, in between bouts of frantically tidying our already tidy place.
I need to be sure every inch is camera ready.
We’ve had interviews in our penthouse before, but this time there’s no staging or set designer.
Just Luka and me in our most intimate setting—the sanctuary of our home.
Filming starts in half an hour, so I’m in Luka’s en suite bathroom checking my professionally done hair and makeup.
It’s perfect, of course. There’s nothing for me to do, but I can’t quite seem to calm myself down.
I hear him moving around in the bedroom, and my heart flutters.
We haven’t been together in his bedroom in… well, a long time.
I glance up in the mirror and see him standing in the bathroom doorway. He smiles a little as he catches my eyes in the glass. “Kib’s in his crate. I moved him into my office and loaded him up with chew toys so he won’t bother the film crew.”
I nod. “How are you?” I can see shadows under his eyes and tight lines around his lips.
He shrugs. “Who do you think’s more nervous right now? You or me?”
Damn. I’d hoped that I had a better rein on my feelings. Instead I’ve probably made Luka feel worse by showing how uneasy I am. I force a smile and try to make my voice light.
“Probably you,” I say, dabbing on some lip gloss. “He’s your father, after all. I don’t even know him. I’m just here to offer my support and show the public we’re a united front.”
“Your hand is shaking,” he points out.
I set the gloss down and turn toward him.
“I’m more anxious for you than for me,” I admit.
“I know there’s a lot riding on this interview, not just for the business but for your whole family’s reputation.
And ever since Stefan told you we were doing this, you’ve been totally shut down.
” I pause and add, gently, “Even more than usual.”
Luka shrugs, but that’s all I get. “I’m sorry this is upsetting for you, even if it’s on my behalf. I know we haven’t really talked much, but…I can tell you’ve been dreading this, too.”
I’m taken by surprise. Luka’s been paying attention to my feelings? Who is this man?
He looks down and retrieves something from his pocket.
I eye him with caution as he opens his hand.
A beautiful diamond brooch sits in his palm.
The platinum metal is worked into the shape of a sunburst, with a round cluster of diamonds in the center and smaller diamonds trailing down each of the curved rays, with faceted black stones set between each ray.
I gasp. “It’s beautiful.”
He swallows and shifts his weight a little. “It was my mother’s. It’s an antique. This was her favorite for dress-up occasions. I’d like you to wear it for the interview.”
I look up at him. “But it’s a family heirloom,” I say, in awe.
“She’d want you to wear it,” Luka says. “So…will you?”
My hand goes over my heart. “Of course; I’d love to.”
I’m not sure if I should hug him. I don’t want to ruin the moment. Tears prick my eyes and I’m flooded with warmth, even if he’s doing this more for the optics than to calm me.
He doesn’t say anything as he gently turns me toward the mirror and wraps his arms around me to fasten the brooch over the pocket of my dusty rose silk blouse where the material is thick enough to support its weight. It looks absolutely stunning against the fabric.
For a moment we just stand there, the heat of his chest radiating against my back.
I can feel my breathing slow, my shoulders start to relax.
I’m flooded with a sense of rightness, of belonging—something I’ve been missing ever since we agreed to enter into this relationship.
I feel like part of the Zoric family, not just a contractor to it.
“It’s time,” he says, backing up a couple steps and holding his hand out to me.
I take it, letting my husband lead me into the living room where the camera crew has set up their lights and have their cameras perfectly angled. Julia is perched on the edge of our oversized armchair, which she’s angled toward the sofa. Luka has me sit first, and then joins me.
We both smile, but I feel like my face is tighter today. It’s not as easy to plaster on a fake grin. Luka’s hand settles on my thigh and I take it in my own, holding on tight.
It might be hard to smile, but it’s surprisingly easy to take comfort in my husband.
Julia smiles, but it only makes her look more intimidating. “Shall we begin?”
I look at Luka and he nods, so I do, too.
Even though we went over the list of questions we might expect, I can’t help worrying that we’re not as prepared as we possibly can be.
We were also warned that Julia might stray from the list as the interview progressed, so I can’t help tensing up with nerves.
I’m not sure I want to know what “straying” might entail for a reporter this serious, but I know I have to stay focused for Luka’s sake.
Julia starts her introduction after the camera rolls, recapping who we are and what the trafficking scandal was all about, then briefly references the paper she’s holding in her lap.
“I understand that your father’s trial is creating quite a difficult time for your family, and I appreciate you speaking with me today, both of you. Can you tell me, Luka, did you do anything to prepare yourself for the trial?”
He’s poised and confident as he flows into his response, which I know he’s practiced.
“My siblings and I agreed that we should support each other in every sense, but otherwise try to carry on inasmuch as it’s possible—just business as usual.
Because we all knew this day was coming, and that it would destroy us if we let it.
Honestly, there’s really no way to fully mentally prepare for something like this. ”
I add, “We’re just trying to get through it together. One day at a time.”
Julia nods. “Understandable. No matter the crime, I’m sure it’s challenging to watch a parent go on trial. Regardless of whether the charges are accurate or not…”
There’s a pause as if she’s waiting for Luka to fill the space. He doesn’t.
She clears her throat and moves on. “What was your father like when you were growing up? Looking back, was there any indication that he’d be capable of something like this?”
I squeeze Luka’s hand and let out a slow breath. She certainly didn’t wait to get to the dirty details. But Luka doesn’t miss a beat.
“He was always a strict, hard man. Total workaholic, especially after my mother passed. When he was around enough to interact with us kids, he demanded perfection. Showed little emotion. I mean, I guess you could argue that the signs were there. Can I recognize them now, looking back? Not really, to be honest. My siblings and I mostly stayed out of his way. We had a lot of nannies and babysitters, and with his work schedule and our schooling it wasn’t that hard.
It’s easy to get away with things when the people closest to you aren’t paying attention. ”
I cringe inside. There might have been a jab at me in that statement, but I let it slide.
This isn’t about me. Luka’s admission about his father cuts deep.
He hasn’t spoken a lot about his dad before, and I never pushed.
I figured when the time was right, he’d tell me what he was comfortable having me know.
I feel bad that it’s only coming out now, in a TV interview.
“That’s very telling,” Julia says gently. My heart feels heavy for him and I realize he’s squeezing my hand back. “So the implication is that it would be easy for him to keep secrets?”
“Absolutely,” Luka says. “My father was a very powerful man, a very connected man. It was easy for him to do what he wanted without any interference.”
I shoot Luka a sympathetic look, and it’s not just for the cameras. I can’t imagine what it was like growing up in the same house as Konstantin.
“How do you think the agency will pull through all of this?” Julia presses. “You’ve been making big strides in rebranding, creating your own image and even renaming the company after your mother, is that right?”
“Yes. Danica Rose. We hope to move forward and create a legacy she’d be proud of.”
“That’s wonderful,” Julia says with a warm smile. “How is it working out so far?”
“So far, it’s been great.” Luka glances over at me.
“We’re showing who we are as an agency. An agency that’s free of my father’s actions and influence.
What he did is in no way representative of the Zoric family, or our business.
We work hard, we’re committed to doing the right thing, and we truly want our models to feel supported and to succeed.
My family and DRM’s employees in no way condone what Konstantin Zoric did.
We want no part of him. In fact, our younger sister even founded a non-profit to benefit some of the women he hurt, and we are very proud of the work she’s doing. ”
Julia’s nodding, and she looks down at her notes again before turning to me.
“Brooklyn, what has all of this been like for you—not just signing on with the agency, but with respect to your marriage into the family—in the midst of all the fallout?”
I have the urge to shift in my seat, but I stay still and lift my chin.
“The media response has been a little overwhelming, but I never doubted Luka’s sincerity when he told me that neither he nor his family had anything to do with his father’s illicit activities.
I trusted my heart, both when I signed on with DRM and then later, when Luka proposed.
My heart hasn’t let me down. I know I’ve made the right choices. ”
That was sugary sweet, but I meant it.
She smiles, and I can’t tell if it’s because she believes me or she’s trying not to throw up.
“And how has your marriage helped you through this, Luka?” she asks next.
My hairline tingles at what he might say. He needs to make us look good, and he will—but nothing that he says will be truthful. Not after what I did to him. Still, there’s a softness in his expression when he catches my gaze that I can’t fully discount.
“All the lies and secrets of my father have taught me the importance of having open and honest relationships in your life, and I just thank God for my wife, for teaching me how,” he tells Julia, glancing over at me again.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and his reference to honesty can’t possibly apply to me, but at the same time I’m eating up every word. Judging by the way the journalist is leaning forward in her seat, brows knit together with compassion, it seems like she is too.
Luka continues, “I wasn’t raised to be vulnerable. My father saw emotions as signs of weakness, but Brooklyn has taught me that they’re actually tools to navigate relationships with.”
There’s so much sincerity in Luka’s voice, his answers ringing true. He’s clearly been through hell with his father. He’s never had a soft place to land…until me.
And I messed it all up.
I want him to have that again, though. More than ever.
As I smile and nod along, it takes all my willpower to fight back tears. Why am I so affected by this? Why do I have such a strong instinct to take him in my arms and tell him I’ll always be there for him, that he’s safe with me, that I’ll never hurt him again?
And then it hits me. My feelings for Luka aren’t just about lust or living up the good times or simply relying on the fact that you have someone to come home to. It’s so much more than that.
It’s true love.