12. Brooke
Chapter twelve
Brooke
Butterflies tear through my stomach. Or maybe it's junk food. I probably shouldn’t have stress binged an entire bag of salt and vinegar chips while I finished going over my presentation in my head. Now my mouth is all torn up on top of the nervousness practically vibrating through me. It makes no sense that I’m feeling this way. I was always the girl in school who barely prepared for speeches and tests. Even with Beau and wanting to live up to his expectations, I was consistently going through the motions to the point that there was no room for nerves. But thinking about Marcus possibly rejecting my idea . . . what if he doesn’t like it? What if it’s not good enough for him to ask me to stay again? Why do I care so much about him wanting me to stay?
Taking a deep breath, I knock softly on Marcus’ home office door, praying I don’t blurt out something else completely inappropriate like when I brought up my sex life–or lack thereof–on our hike.
It didn’t make sense to meet at the bar to go over my proposal since his office there is smaller and shared with Troy. But it feels weird that I just walked out of my . . . well, his . . . bedroom to the room next door for a business meeting. My outfit is professional but cute. I’m wearing nice blue jeans with a loose-fitting lavender blouse French tucked. I have brown wedges to match this outfit, but didn’t put them on since I’m inside. Now I’m wondering if I should have? Is it weird I’m barefoot? That’s not very professional. This is weird. Why am I overthinking this so much? I’m not even sure why I felt the need to dress up. It’s not like this is an interview for a job. It’s just me sharing an idea–something completely out of my job description. It would be insane to think I’ll become valuable enough that he would hire me full time and long term, especially when I can’t stay in Oregon permanently. Can I?
My knuckles rap on the wood more confidently this time and Marcus’ deep voice sends a shot of adrenaline straight through me. “Come in.”
Am I sweating? God, it’s so hot in here. Taking a deep breath, I twist the knob and push the door open. I only got a peek of this room during the tour Maci gave me the day I arrived and haven’t been in since. To the left sits a massive oak desk in front of a long window. There’s a huge computer monitor on one side. Everything is neat and organized. A three tier metal rack sits on the wood with papers neatly stacked within it. There’s a filing cabinet in the corner and a fiddle leaf fig tree that stands just as tall. To the right is a rich brown leather sofa. Marcus sits on one side, leaned back, an ankle crossed over a knee as he examines the paper he’s holding.
He was out all morning, which is also part of the reason we didn’t meet at Jameson’s. I’m not exactly sure what he was doing, but it must have been important if he’s dressed like that . The charcoal slacks and button up that’s a shade lighter hug his muscles deliciously. His hair is pulled to the back of his head and one of his hands runs across his jaw, over his neatly groomed facial hair. Holy hell. And since when does he wear glasses? Just slightly rounded black frames sit on his face, perfectly highlighting his ocean eyes as they glance toward me.
“Brooke.” He sets the paper on the coffee table in front of the couch and motions to the space beside him. I cross the room, and it’s not until I sit on the leather that I remember this is currently his bedroom. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes fixed on my scrunched face.
“It’s not that this couch is uncomfortable . . .”
“Gee, thanks.” He chuckles.
“No, really. It’s great. But this is what you’ve been sleeping on? I feel terrible. Please trade me. It’s the least I can do.” I can’t believe that while I’m sleeping peacefully on the comfiest mattress I’ve ever slept on, he squishes onto these way too firm cushions. Okay, maybe I haven’t been sleeping peacefully with everything on my mind, but at least I’m comfortable as I lie there awake.
“It’s not a big deal. And I’ve been gone a lot lately, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Oh, I’ve noticed. And not just because it feels weird working a job without a boss breathing down my neck. I’ve been loving working with Emma and Charlotte. They have no idea what to do when it comes to creating an organization system. I’m not a very organized person, but having the freedom to design it in a way that makes sense to me is fun. I keep having the urge to check in with Marcus, to make sure I’m doing things how he wants, but Maci said Dean told her he’s been really busy. I don’t want to bother him or make him feel like he can’t trust me. So, I shoved the insecurity and need for validation on my projects down, despite my desire to text him. “Well, if you change your mind and want your bed back, just let me know.”
He holds my gaze for a long enough moment that I feel my face heat.
“Alright, well.” I shake my head, clearing the thought of Marcus and the ties under his mattress. “Ready for my proposal?”
“Let’s hear it.” He takes off his glasses, setting them on the coffee table before leaning back to get comfortable.
I take a breath. I’ve spent the last week walking through town, scouring lists of all the local businesses and trying to figure out the best idea for bringing in business. I think I landed on the perfect collaboration plan. “Typically, bars rely on their nighttime hours to make the most money.” He nods, but I back up my statement anyway. “I talked to Troy, and he said that you’ve never considered being open during the mornings because there wouldn’t be enough profits. But I think we should start there.”
“Convince more people it’s ‘5 o’clock somewhere?’” He smirks.
Grinning, I continue. “Not quite. I mean, yes, there will be alcohol involved, but it’ll be more than that. One day a week we’ll have a Brunch, Booze and Books meetup. I’m not set on the name–it’s just an idea. I’ve talked to a couple of local businesses we could partner with for a mutually beneficial relationship. There’s this new crepe place. They are more upscale than what you’d expect at Jameson’s–no offense.” Amusement flickers in his eyes before his expressionless mask slips on, and he continues listening intently. “But I don’t think that’s a problem. Who says we can’t create two separate vibes? We obviously have alcohol. And I talked to the owner of the cutest indie bookstore in town. So, what I’m thinking is one day of each summer week, we’d open in the morning for this book club of sorts that would be kind of like a secret society thing? Maybe that’s not the right word.” I sigh, feeling like my thoughts are coming out more jumbled and less concise than I practiced. He watches me patiently, without interrupting or giving any sign of what he’s thinking.
“There would be a membership fee. It doesn’t have to be a contract or anything. I was thinking $55 a week? Girls spend way more than that just on brunch with their girlfriends on Sunday. But the value would be so much greater. They’d get that week’s book club book, a crepe, and mimosas or wine or whatever. We could even create special cocktails for each event. OH!” An idea sparks to life as I’m rambling, and I hardly take a breath so I don’t lose my train of thought. “We could make a cocktail that’s themed for whatever the book is. It could be a whole thing. Anyway,” I try to get back on track, noting Marcus’ cool expression paired with godlike patience as he lets me finish my thoughts. “All three businesses would benefit. We could discuss the division of profits however it makes the most sense. But I think this is something women my age would be super interested in. There are about 30,000 women between the ages of 21 and 35 just in Eugene. Marketing at school would be easy, and we’d have both the crepe place and the bookstore advertising for us as well. Plus, it would greatly benefit us if we were the hosts. Each weekly membership could include one mimosa or whatever drink. But after that we could charge. Once girls get drinking and talking about romance, they either want to drink more or fuck.”
My hands fly to my mouth as Marcus’ eyes go wide like he can’t believe I said that .
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, hoping to erase the past fifteen seconds, but when I open them again, Marcus’ gaze is still focused on me. Maybe I’m delusional right now, but it looks like he’s . . . I don’t know . . . trying to figure out which category I fall into. In an attempt to crush the embarrassment, I run straight through it. “Well, it’s true. And if you didn’t know, you do now.”
He holds up a finger to get my attention. “What determines which of those things a woman wants?”
My skin buzzes with the idea that maybe he wants to know about me specifically and not women in general. “Honestly, if the smut is good, it’s always sex. But if we can’t get it–especially if it’s a reminder we’re alone–a glass of wine takes the edge off. So, again, this is where the bar comes in. They want something we have. Bam. Books, Booze and Brunch.”
He quirks a brow. “I thought it was Brunch, Booze and Books?”
“Oh my gosh. That just gave me the best idea. I was thinking like ‘BBB’ or something short and sweet. My original idea is catchy but kind of a tongue-twister. What about, ‘Here for the B?’ You know, like a play on . . .”
“I know.”
“Oh, right. Wow. This idea kind of took a turn, huh? Is it too . . . problematic? Or I don’t know.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Do we need to have the confidence talk again?”
I review his pep talk from when he asked how much I thought I was worth, still surprised by how he seemed to believe in me despite the lack of time we’ve spent together. “Nope.” I smirk. “Not sure there will be enough time between you telling me how amazing my idea is.”
“I like it. ”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s not exactly conventional, but outside of the box is exactly what gets attention.”
“OH. We could even have Charlotte and Emma come to one of the meetings and educate everyone too. They could test their product. Surely it would make it onto everyone’s social media. And we’d get content for our own marketing of course.”
“Do your ideas ever stop?”
“Honestly, I haven’t felt this creative in a long time. Between you giving me control over helping Emma and Charlotte and indirectly free range with no guidelines for this idea, I think the freedom sparked something great.”
“I do too.” He pauses. “I know you keep telling me you’re not staying and that you don’t want a long-term job . . .”
He holds his gaze to me as if he’s waiting for me to contradict him, but I think I keep showing up so he’ll keep asking me if I want to work for him–if I want to stay.
“Take the lead on this project.” He doesn’t ask. “Feel free to check in if you need something from me.”
“You trust me to figure it out?” Bosses don’t give their employees this much control.
He gives me a quizzical look. “Should I not?”
“No. I mean, I got this. Thank you,” I concede without any fightback. I bite into my lip, anxious to text the girls and tell them. The realization slams into me, fusing a crack in my heart. I’ve never had a support system. I’ve never had any sort of group that I felt comfortable around. And I’ve only known a couple of these girls for three weeks. Is this what it feels like to have someone believe in you?
Marcus stands, and I follow suit. “I can trust you to take care of the details? ”
“Sure thing, boss,” I say with a light and airy tone.
“Don’t . . . Okay.” He tugs on the back of his neck. “Good. Let me know the schedule you get worked out, so I can change the hours on our website. I can also create a payment page for when you get those details sorted too.”
What was he going to say? Hmm. “Okay. Thank you for this.”
His brows scrunch.
“This opportunity,” I clarify even though I’m already thankful for so much more. I may still not know exactly what I want to do for work when I go home, but I do know I feel better than I ever did working for Beau, and that’s a huge start.
He nods subtly. Without another word, he bends to grab the paper he was reading over before our meeting and walks to his desk. I take it as a cue to leave and make an exit. I swear I feel his eyes on me as I walk out the door, but I don’t turn to check.
The second I’m back in my room, I push the door closed, stripping off my jeans and blouse and exchanging them for my elephant pants and a sports bra. Much better. Diving belly first onto the cloud that is Marcus’ mattress, I kick my feet in the air and pull up the group chat.
Me: GUESS WHAT!!
Avery: What?!
Lexy: He loved the idea?!
Me: It seems like it!
Lexy: I knew he would. Troy did too. He thinks it’s a great idea!
Maci: Aaaahhhh. YES!
Avery: Thank god! I can’t wait. It’ll be like a required girls’ morning out. I need adult interaction.
Me: I’m excited. He’s giving me full control too .
Lexy: Giving you control at work to make up for the control he’d take in the bedroom I bet.
Me: LEXY!
Lexy: What?
Lexy: He’s not my type, but I can still admit that man is fine. And we have a good idea about his extracurriculars.
Maci: He really is the best.
Avery: Oh, God. Yes, please. We won’t even need a book club. We’ll just live a real-life story through Brooke.
Me: Uhhh hello? Do I get a say in this?
Avery: If you start answering our questions. Do you think he’s attractive?
I roll to my back with a sigh.
Me: I mean, I have eyes if that’s what you’re asking.
Maci: Oooooh. I knew it. You two were so cute on the hike the other day. He couldn’t stop staring.
Me: You didn’t give us much of a choice when you ditched us.
Maci: You’re welcome.
Lexy: I’m so here for this.
Me: There is no this. He’s my boss now. And I’m not going to be here forever.
Avery: Oh my gosh. Can our first book club book be workplace romance?! There’s one I’ve been wanting to read.
Lexy: Obviously I’m in.
Maci: I’ll text Sophie too. She’ll want to come.
Me: Finally, we’re back on track.
Lexy: Don’t think we’re done talking about the other thing, though.
Avery: Let us know what you need help with!
Me: Actually…
I want to impress Marcus for some reason. It’s different from the way I wanted to succeed when I worked for Beau. That was out of necessity—so he didn’t get mad, so he or my mom didn’t treat me like I was useless. I don’t know why exactly I want to impress Marcus, but it’s not for either of those reasons.
Avery: Hit us with it.
Me: I was hoping to recruit all of you. Avery, I was thinking we could make bookmarks with QR codes that link to the website Marcus will make. Lexy, I had this idea today that we could make a themed cocktail that somehow pairs with the book that week?! Maci, you could help me find my way around campus and town to advertise?
Maci: Yes!
Avery: Eeek. I’m so excited. Let me work on a design this week, and I’ll get back to you!
Lexy: I already have an idea for a forbidden romance drink. It’ll be red, obviously.
Maci: Of course it will be. There’s a laughing emoji at the end and I feel like I’m missing an inside joke. It doesn’t bother me, though. The fact that these girls rallied around me without a second thought is more than enough to keep me floating.
Me: Thank you. I owe ya one.
Lexy: We accept payment in the form of detailed sex stories.
I leave a string of eye-roll emojis and toss my phone on the bed.