30. Brooke
Chapter thirty
Brooke
Haphazardly throwing our clothes back on, we ride the pulley back to the main floor. I check that the coast is clear before sneaking us into the maid’s private bathroom down the hallway. It’s an open room with two sinks and a long counter, along with one stall. I go to the bathroom, cleaning myself up while Marcus waits patiently.
I unlock my phone, expecting to see missed calls or texts from my mother.
Yup.
There are two missed texts and a little red four over the green phone button.
I check the texts first.
The top one is from my mom: Where did you run off to, Brooke?
The second is from Maci: Hey, call me as soon as you can, please.
Weird. I check the calls. I skip over the one from Emma, noting three missed calls from Maci. My heart thumps in my chest, my breaths getting short. What happened? I fling the stall door open to Marcus leaning against the counter, hands shoved in his pockets. He looks devastatingly handsome with his hair re-tied back, and his casual go-to look with his feet crossed at the ankles.
I don’t have time for ogling.
“What’s wrong?” he immediately asks when he looks up.
“I don’t know. Did Maci call you?” I hit call on her contact name and bring it to my face.
“I don’t have my phone, remember?”
It rings once in my ear.
“Oh yeah.”
“Brooke! There you are.” Maci sounds more relieved than panicked on the other end, and I sigh.
“Yeah, sorry. We were busy. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Dean is trying to get a hold of Marcus. Is he with you?”
“He’s right here. Hold on.”
I hold my phone out for Marcus. “Dean,” I tell him as he takes it from me.
“Hey, man,” he says into the receiver.
I can’t hear what Dean says on the other end.
“Yeah, sorry. I left my phone back in the room.”
Silence.
“No shit?” His eyes widen, and he straightens his stance. “You’re not fucking with me?”
Pause.
“Thanks, man. We’ll make it work. I’ll call them now.”
He pulls the phone from his ear, checking the screen to make sure the call is disconnected before handing it back to me.
“What’s going on? ”
His face splits into a grin. “Emma and Charlotte. A major morning show in New York had a last-minute opening. They invited them to fill it.”
My mouth drops, tears instantly filling my waterline. “No way! Oh my gosh. This is so exciting.” We’ve been marketing like crazy. A post even went viral, and we gained nearly sixty thousand followers overnight, but dang that was fast . “I knew they would do big things. When is it?”
“Tomorrow.”
“You’re going, right?”
He looks at me quizzically. “No? We have plans tomorrow.”
“Marcus!” I hit his arm. “Did they invite you to come?”
“Dean said they did. That they wanted me to call them.”
Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I link my arms around his neck. His hands wrap around my waist. “Then we’re going.”
“But–”
“No. This is a huge deal. You deserve to be there for this. I know they want you there too. Anything else can wait. We can rent a car and leave tonight. It’s only a three-hour drive.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I kiss him. “Now, let’s go tell my mother we’re leaving and make today even better than it already is.”
He chuckles. “Thank you, Brooke.”
I smile and pull him toward the door.
Forty-five minutes later, we finally tracked down my mom and somewhat contained her meltdown about us leaving earlier than planned. She started to throw a fit, but lucky for us, a few country club members needed to steal her away. We said goodbye, and I promised I’d be back before three years–although I’m not confident I’ll keep that promise .
“Okay, can you call us a car from the front desk? I’ll text my dad to let him know we’re coming back and checking out. Then I’ll find us a rental. Dad can probably drop us off at the car place. It’s close to his hotel. You can call Emma and Charlotte on the way back.”
“Yeah,” he says hesitantly, scanning the room before walking the few steps away from where I’m sitting on the lobby couch. He smiles at the front desk lady. She’s new since I’ve been here, but we’ve already developed a mutual fondness for each other. She picks up the cordless phone from behind the counter and punches in a number for him before handing it over.
Focusing back on my task, I shoot a text to my dad, then pull up the rental car website. As it loads, the space on the couch next to me sinks. I look over to find the culprit. I thought I already got rid of this dead weight. I roll my eyes, more annoyed that I don’t have time to fight him.
“What do you want, Beau? Here to cause more trouble?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirks. “Whether you see it or not, Brooke, I’m always looking out for your best interests.”
“Sure you are.”
“You act like I don’t know you at all. I may have been busy working to provide for us for half a decade, but I still paid attention. You forget it’s my job to know every little detail.”
“I’m not one of your cases,” I snap.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”
“There’s nothing you can do for me at this point except leave me alone and move on.”
“I beg to differ. You know your boyfriend–”
“Has a car waiting for you.” Marcus cuts him off, appearing in front of us and holding his hand out for mine. When I glance up, Marcus is shooting Beau a death glare. I kind of like the possessiveness, but I take his hand and break the tension anyway. My boyfriend immediately relaxes at my touch, pulling me to him and toward the door without a single look back–even when Beau yells after us, “I’ll talk to you very soon, Brooke.”