“Again, Brooklyn; not blind,” Nina said patronizingly.
Brooklyn took a deep breath, clenching her fists to keep from doing something else with them. “So, 40s? 50s?”
“I dunno, like...old,” she said rolling her eyes again.
It was the best Brooklyn could hope for without talking to Jesse herself. So not Brianna and not Alex. Maybe it was a representative for one of the two. She could totally see Brianna being just that devious. The thought made her heart stop.
“Oh yeah!” Nina squealed, causing Brooklyn to jump in startled surprise. “I almost forgot. Get this, the guy paid $50,000 for it all. That was why Jesse was so excited for you. Congrats girl!”
“$50,000?” Brooklyn asked, surprised.
“Yep!”
Now she was completely perplexed. That was multiple times what the collection had been listed for in the coffee shop. Even the Manix Gallery hadn’t promised that much of a return.
It had to be Alex.
The thought made her slightly giddy, but she was still confused. In a daze she went over to the cash register to relieve Jenny as questions popped into her head.
Why had he sent someone else to buy it?
What in the world was he planning on doing with all the pieces?
Why hadn’t he called?
* * *
“It had to be him,” Annie, squealed with glee.
“Of course it was him,” Justine said, rolling her eyes, “But what is he going to do, give them back to you? He doesn’t even have his own place to hang them in, right?”
“Maybe he’ll donate them or something. That would be nice,” Kay said.
“The bigger question is, how much of that 50K do you get…and what kind of party are you going to throw with it?”
Everyone looked at Martina with mild contempt. She just shrugged. “What? You should be happy B! Your man bought your work, keeping it out of the hands of that skank. You just got a mega payday and here you are pouting.”
Brooklyn softened her scowl. Martina was right. She should be celebrating. Her work was safe (probably). Alex had shown his hand to her.
“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t have called to say something by now.” Brooklyn said.
“Um, the phone works both ways, Brooklyn,” Justine said.
“Yeah, maybe you should be the one to make the next move. It looks like Alex has already done so much,” Annie pointed out.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a firm believer in making men work for it, but you already got him girl!” Martina said.
Now they were all staring at Brooklyn like she was the bad guy. She had to give it to them that perhaps it was time for her to do her part if she really wanted Alex back.
And she did.
She sighed and grabbed her phone, pushing herself off the couch and out of the circle. They all cheered and clapped.
“Go get your man, girl!” Martina yelled.
It cheered Brooklyn up a bit and took the nervous edge off as she shut her bedroom door and flopped down on the bed, pulling his number up.
It rang...and rang…and rang. She got his voicemail, which was disappointing but not the end of the world.
“Hi, Alex,” she began, wondering where to go from there. “First of all, I’m sorry. I should have had more faith in you. Who knew Brianna was such a conniving little—but Never mind her.
“Someone bought all my work at Joe on the Go and I’m just wondering if it was you? I hope so, I couldn’t stand anyone else.... Anyway, I’m just calling to say sorry. I’d really like to see you again if that’s okay. Just call me, okay? Um…I guess that’s all? Call me, okay?”
She sighed and hung up. It sounded a bit desperate there at the end, but she didn’t care. Hopefully, it would encourage him to at least call her back.
* * *
Alex was in Paris and it was well past midnight, but the party he was at was just getting started. It was a Monday—technically it was actually Tuesday—but with this crowd, days of the week meant nothing. Any day was a good day for a party. Alex had left New York to do just that: party.
In fact, he had an entire week’s worth of parties and night club adventures with friends, acquaintances, and old work partners to occupy him. It helped to take his mind off Brianna and the mess she’d created in New York.
He was about 2 bottles into Cristal champagne, when he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. He pulled it out and saw that there was a message from Brooklyn. He disengaged himself from Marie, who had her arm drunkenly draped around him, momentarily forgetting that she was in fact a lesbian, as she teased him about his pointy nose, kissing the tip of it for effect as everyone around him laughed.
He joined in the laughter as he escaped to the bathroom to listen to the message away from the MC Solaar French rap that was blasting from the speakers in the main room. He held the phone up to his ear as he heard her voice.
When the message was finished, he stood there for a while thinking about it. Then he shut the phone off, to avoid any more interruptions. Tonight was a night for partying. He stuck the phone back in his pocket and brought himself back around to the festive spirit as he went back to join his friends.
He wasn’t ready to deal with Brooklyn quite yet.
Chapter 32
London had skipped work Monday. Sunday with grandma had been a bit of a blow and she wasn’t quite ready to deal with the possibilities that had been brought up...certainly not under the scrutiny of her father during their Monday Morning Strategy Session.
It was Tuesday and she was back in the office. Her father—in a rare bout of tact—had managed to give her some space today. This was good, because she seriously needed to patch things up with the other man in her life.
Fight for it.
She straightened her shoulders and picked up the phone.
“London,” Michael said into the phone after picking up on the first ring.
“Before you say anything ” London stopped him. “I want to give you four good reasons why you should come to lunch with me today.”
She was using the same tactic that Michael had once upon a time used to convince her to meet him for drinks. She thought it might be a good way to ease back into his good graces.
“One, you do need to eat lunch. Two, it’s quite obvious that you’re attracted to me, as am I to you.”
She waited for any sign of laughter and hearing none, she barreled on hoping this would work, even though the doubt was starting to creep in.
“Three, I miss you.”
“And I miss you,” he sighed into the phone. She didn’t wait for another reaction before bolstering herself and continuing on in a final confident tone. “Four, we don’t run from things. We fight them—together. So let’s do lunch.”
There was a pause on the other end. Too long.
“Well, London, I’m going to need some time,” he said.
After a breathless beat, she responded, trying not to choke on her voice. “Really?”
“Well, yes,” he said, as though the sentiment was obvious. “It’s going to take me some time to—”
“I get it,” she interrupted, shaking her head of all her silly pitiful thoughts. She had brought this on herself after all. She was the one who wanted space. She had been the one to push him away. It only made sense that he’d have second thoughts about them.
“London,” he began.
She ignored the change in tone in his voice. She didn’t need explanations. “I get it Michael,” she said, trying to sound more self assured than she felt. “You need time and space. If I were you, I would feel the same.
“London,” he sighed. She could hear the aggravation in his voice, and she felt herself getting angry.
She had foolishly put herself out there, even trying to be as witty and charming as he always was. Of course it fell flat. She wasn’t witty or charming or funny or...even worth dating.
Christ, she needed to get off the phone before she made a bigger fool of hersel
f. “Michael, I’m sorry you feel this way. I really am. I get it. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I—I have to go.”
With that, she hung up the phone. Just for good measure she turned it completely off. She needed uninterrupted time alone to contemplate the state of her life right now.
After a moment, she reached down into her purse and pulled out the little white stick.
Double lines. Positive.
So much for birth control pills.
Congratulations!
* * *
“London, there’s a Michael Wright here to see you.”
It was her secretary on the intercom. The two of them didn’t bother with the formality of using Ms. but all the same, Brandy tried to keep it professional. Still, she could hear the giddy undertone of the woman’s voice.
London could feel herself getting giddy, or maybe that was just her heart doing flip flops in her chest. What was he doing up here? She’d thought he needed time?
“Um, London,” Brandy called in again, a worried tone to her voice.
That shook London out of her trance. What in the world was she doing just sitting there?
She hoped out of her chair and opened the door to her office to find Michael standing there with a bouquet of tulips in his hands.
“Michael,” she breathed.
“London, London,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “Someone told me you’d be a tough nut to crack. He had no idea. You wouldn’t even give me a chance to finish my sentences. By time, I meant lunch. Do you have any idea how long it takes to get uptown during lunch hour?”
She walked over to him, breathing hard out of her mouth to keep from breaking down in tears in front of everyone at the firm, who had all of a sudden come out of the woodwork.
She bit her lip as she looked down at the flowers in his hands.
He saw her looking at them and commented. “Someone told me tulips would do the trick,” he said handing them over.
She took them and had to bite her lip harder to keep from crying.
“I’ve come to take you to lunch,” he said. “A very public lunch, for my someone special. My someone very special. I want the world to know—”
She interrupted him by standing on her toes and pulling him down by his tie so she could reach his mouth with hers.
He responded immediately, pressing his body hard against hers, so hard that her body was forced back into an arch. If it weren’t for his one strong arm coming around to hold her up, she would have fallen flat on her ass.
London heard Brandy squeak out an aww.
She also heard people stopping in their tracks, walking out of their offices, and all around creating an audience for this grand display of love.
London didn’t care.
When she finally let him go, she smiled up into his face and said, “Would it be really cliché to say you had me at London?”
“Well, both of you had me at making a scene in my firm!” London heard her father say in the near distance. “Indecent and indecorous! It’s no wonder the papers are up in arms about you two. This is a place of business not a fly by night hotel—”
“Daddy!” London said.
Her father continued. “London, I know I’m a bit too indulgent when it comes to being the senior partner of this firm—”
Several of the associates coughed and/or snickered then made their way quickly back into their offices, hoping to avoid Frank’s “indulgence.”
“Really, Daddy?” she asked incredulously, knowing her father to be the epitome of a my-way-or-the-highway type of boss.
Frank ignored everyone. “But I have to put my foot down when it comes to—”
“It’s completely my fault Mr. Jefferson,” Michael interjected. “I should have known that my mere presence would cause your lovely daughter to lose all sense of propriety and professional decorum.” His eyes fell ruefully to the floor with hyperbolic guilt. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
London giggled and slapped his chest.
Frank squinted his eyes in suspicious vexation. Before he could give him a good what’s what, Michael continued.
“It’s just that,” Michael turned to London, taking her hand. “I also can’t control myself when I think of your daughter. Contrary to whatever the media has to say, she’s my someone special. My someone very special.”
He brought a hand up to cup her face, and look deep into her eyes. She smiled, almost tearfully as she looked at him, knowing the facetiousness was gone. “The thought of going another day without being in her presence was, frankly sir, driving me insane. I wake up thinking about her face. I go to bed thinking about her—”
“That’s enough!” Frank said, obviously worried about where that line of thought was headed. Any remaining staff members giggled at the implication, then quickly skedaddled at Frank’s perturbed frown, which made a warning turn around the area.
Michael grinned and mouthed to London, too far?
She smiled, which came out as a small laugh. She subtly brought her hands up to show her thumb and forefinger making a tiny gap. Then she winked.
Frank brought his attention back to the couple that remained standing there. “I appreciate what you’re doing, son,” he conceded. Then he coughed as he realized the term he had just used.
London and Michael’s eyes gleamed with amusement and hope.
Frank coughed again, obviously caught in a web of his own making. “Perhaps it’s best that you two go along and get your lunch—and I do mean lunch!—before this office turns into gossip central.”
“Of course, Mr. Jefferson,” said Michael, ever the perfect boyfriend.
“Thank you, Daddy,” London said.
“Humph,” was all that Frank could muster.
* * *
They had enjoyed a long, leisurely lunch together, reconnecting and pulling themselves right back to where they were during the days of Barcelona. London sat snuggled in Michael’s side as they took the taxi back to work.
She wasn’t paying attention to the scenery as she thought about the two of them. They were a team. That much had been made clear over lunch.
“There’s no reason for us to be sneaking around and hiding, London.”
She grabbed his hand. “I completely agree. We fight this thing…together.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Well, this is a new London,” he grinned. “I completely approve. What brought about the change?”
She smiled, “I had some sage advice from a wise older woman.”
“Hmm, remind me to send some flowers to Grandma Jefferson,” he said.
London laughed as she leaned over the table to kiss him...in full view of the entire restaurant
In the taxi next to her, Michael suddenly leaned forward and said to the driver. “Actually, can you take a right here and head all the way down to 73rd?”
When he fell back beside her, she turned to look at him with a speculative eye.
“Just something I want to show you,” he said, not answering the question that was on her face. She decided to just go with it. She fell back into him with a smile, completely trusting him.
She enjoyed the anticipation as Michael gave continuous directions to the driver. Eventually, he had him slow down on a quiet, tree-lined street with townhouse apartment buildings.
They stopped in front of a gracious white limestone triplex and Michael paid the driver and opened the door. London stared up in wonder as she took the hand that he held out to her.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, having an inkling of where the afternoon was going.
“Don’t get mad,” he warned, “but I decided to be a little productive with our time apart. Since we’re officially back on again, I thought I’d show you one of the fruits of my labors.
“We talked about getting a place together, and I just couldn’t wait to start looking,” he continued. “This one was too good to pass up on showing you.”
As he led her up the steps she wondered how she could po
ssibly be mad. They hadn’t even set foot inside and already she was in love with the place. She looked at the bright white stone and contrasting black shutters and iron railings. She spun around to look down the surprisingly quiet street with shade producing trees that led all the way to Central Park she could actually see only a few blocks away.
Before they could ring the bell, a very primped and pressed woman opened the door and greeted Michael with a wide smile.
“Mr. Wright,” she said enthusiastically, no doubt fully aware of the importance of the last name. She turned to London, only a tiny flicker of the lashes before the gracious façade came back. “And you must be Ms. Jefferson,” she said, reaching out a hand for her to shake.
London shook it politely and followed her in. It was an open floor plan, a large living room area leading into the kitchen and dining area in back. A pair of French doors led to a back patio where London could see actual patches of green from this distance. The inner walls were all painted white while the side walls were exposed brick. It gave the place a contemporary yet casually welcoming feel. As her heels clicked along the parquet flooring, London could already see herself at home here as she listened to the agent give her spiel.
“As you can probably see, it’s been fully renovated to perfection and modernized for luxury living. It still maintains some of its prewar elements. There is generous lighting and the back windows face—”
London tuned her out as she explored the area with her own eyes. The kitchen they were entering was all white with black counter tops and stainless steel appliances. The dining room beyond it had a spectacular view of the little patio and area of green grass that was big enough for children to actually play in.
The thought instinctively made her hand fly to her stomach. She hadn’t told Michael about the baby yet. This was their first day back together and she didn’t want to overwhelm him. Now she was the one feeling overwhelmed.
As they made their way up through the rest of the house, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining their little family. It reminded her of her days playing with Barbie in her Dream House. But this was a real house, and so much more perfect.
Mr. & Mrs. Wright: A BWWM Romance (Wright Brothers Series Book 2) Page 16