Secrets & Admirers (The Broadway Series Book 3)

by Allie York

  I wanted desperately to just talk to someone so I called Rae and whined. I complained and my best friend let me for over an hour about how tired I was of being alone. I didn’t mention my obsession with Briggs. It was too weird that I was infatuated with a guy I barely knew without hearing Rae say it aloud. Rae suggested online dating and going to meet people at local markets, but I knew that would never make me happy. When I was done with Rae, I took a walk through the park near my apartment. It was dusky, cold, and nearly empty, but the silhouettes up the hill caught my attention and I pulled a sketch pad from my purse. It was small and I only had a Sharpie, but I could draw enough to remember it. I would paint it later on a canvas. The man threw the ball and the dog tore off after it, over and over until I had no idea how they saw the ball or each other at all. When the silhouette hooked the dog to the leash, I made my exit, tucking my sketchbook back in my bag, and walked back to my apartment in the cold.

  I went to bed the same way I had for several nights, thinking of the deep brown eyes staring into my soul and how amazing his big hands would feel roaming my skin. I was no saint, but never had thoughts so colorful, or so thrilling. I tried again to hunt Briggs down on social media, just to find some pictures, but no luck. After reading until my eyes burned, I fell asleep to dream of a man I hardly knew.

  H,

  Murphy is due for a good bath, so I’ll give them a call. As far as your other job, it’s fascinating. Do what you love, weird or not, but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that. I was born in West Tennessee, but moved East as a kid and stayed for college. Once I settled downtown, I knew I was staying. It’s beautiful here. Your question about my hobbies made me realize that I needed to expand my horizons, so I signed up for a crash course in cooking. Yet another masculine hobby I have decided to pick up. Or at least try. Women can’t resist a man who plays chess and cooks, right? Tell me about your past relationships, surely a couple of weeks is long enough to jump into the really unpleasant topics. Nearly two years ago, I was left at the alter by my fiancé and one of my groomsmen. Seven months later she had his son. Since then, I have been out casually, but have refused to seriously date anyone. Your turn.

  B

  The poor guy had certainly had his share of heart break. Blake’s betrayal stung, but nothing like being left at the altar. Poor B was ready to give his life to her, and the woman ripped his heart out. Karma would take care of the woman and the groomsman in time, but it probably wasn’t soon enough. It was a wonder B was willing to open up to a woman at all after a stab in the back like that. No wonder my pen pal wasn’t trusting enough to enter a relationship.

  B,

  Wow. I am so sorry to hear that. That would wound one’s pride and heart. My last relationship was a disaster and ended like yours. A few days after my mother died, I found him screwing a mutual friend. And I say screwing because there is no euphemism for what I saw. The one before that was better though more casual. He was on the police force and came over to surprise me with a homemade meal to find my mother doing lines on my coffee table. Needless to say, it was not a fun conversation. He was kind enough to help me find another rehab center for her to flunk out of instead of arresting her on the spot. Before that I wasted a few months on a man who was selling to my mother behind my back. I blame my naivety for that blunder. My record with men is a pretty sad one if I’m honest, but everyone makes mistakes. As long as you learn from them, there’s no shame in poor decisions. Cooking is a sexy hobby, no matter the gender doing the cooking. Don’t you have friends you go do things with? Surely you have people to spend time with that are an actual presence in your life.

  H

  The thought that B might not have anyone else would also explain his obsession for writing notes. I knew what it was like to truly be alone, so I sympathized more than I cared to admit. If not for Rae and my determination to surround myself with support, I would be one lost soul. One of my biggest fears was being alone and having no one to care about. I was fortunate enough to have loving friends, and I made a point to be kind to everyone. No matter how strong, everyone needs a support system.

  H,

  I do go out to dinners and such on the weekends. My brother and I have lunch with our mother a few days a week and I went out with some acquaintances over the weekend. I’m ashamed to say that my groomsman’s loss was taken a bit harder than my fiancé’s so I tend to avoid those relationships too. I am a firm believer in the past staying in the past, but the worst mistakes are those we don’t learn from. You and I view things the same there. I spend more time working than anything, well, maybe not as much as I spend reading. Oh, I have gone a whole week without complimenting how breathtaking you are. I wish you had an idea how hard it is to no longer sit and stare at you while you read. It was really the highlight of my day. Now my days are highlighted with reading what you wrote and penning a response. This notebook is nearly full, so I’ve ordered a few more, despite not truly wanting to do this anymore. In all honesty, it takes every bit of self-control to not just plant myself in your seat and wait. Then I remember that while the notes are fun, I’m not your type, and this is all just a fantasy. I’m not the kind of man you seem to have any interest in at all. Again, you are outspoken and vibrant while I pale in comparison.

  B

  How was I supposed to go all weekend without responding to that? B had only been on the bus one day the entire week and of course I didn’t see him. My order of new notebooks came in on Saturday, so that surprise would be waiting for B too. I hoped it would cheer him up. Jovie was right, Field Notes were expensive. Well, as far as paper was concerned.

  I left the notebook and the new ones on my bookshelf, grabbed my new Maya Banks book, tucked my list inside, and headed to The Lost Savant, a little restaurant a few blocks away. The game was fun for a while, but I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t go on being unhappy, closing out opportunities, because of someone I couldn’t meet. I respected his privacy, but the whole thing was more than I was willing to handle. I left my old life behind to start new, start fresh, and take chances. Someone who couldn’t even face me was not moving forward.

  Faye had mentioned her son to me a few times, swearing he was a great guy and that I should meet him. But the last time I saw her, the silly woman insisted on making me agree to a meet and greet. I wanted to turn her down, but couldn’t say no. The pleading look in her eyes forced me to agree finally and I made a note of the date and location. If her son was half as sweet as Faye was, the guy would be a dream come true, and I loved adding to my friend collection even if there was no spark. Plus, if it made Faye happy, I would meet a hundred sons.

  The lunch crowd was gone from the Lost Savant, but the dinner crowd hadn’t made it yet, so the place was fairly empty as I took my seat on the patio. It was chilly, but not quite cold enough to keep me indoors. I ate my hummus and veggies leisurely and read my book, buried in my favorite sweater with a couple more layers underneath. I refused to think about B or the last note from him. I focused solely on the book, getting lost in the words as the scene played in my mind, until someone sat across from me, making me jump, and let out a little squeak. When I looked up, butterflies took flight in my chest. Briggs.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He spoke like he was afraid someone would overhear him, his voice low and deep.

  “It’s fine.” I put my book away, sitting up to talk to him, and trying not to let myself get too fluttery. “I take it you live nearby. I saw Beck running the other day.” His face at the mention of his brother dropped slightly. “Is he still upset with me?”

  “I don’t think so but my brother doesn’t get rejected often. It was a blow to his fragile ego.” Briggs smirked slyly and I giggled. Then we just stared for a moment with his eyes probing mine and the fluttering in my chest turned into a steady thunder. I stopped trying to fight it and leaned into the conversation. “I’ve never seen you in here before.” He took one of my carrots, dipped it into the hummus, and popped it in his mouth.
Briggs away from Beck was a different person. He was confident and flirty. It was the Briggs I desperately wanted to see every time we had met, but he had kept it hidden.

  “Nick and Jovie just introduced me to it.” I slid the hummus between us, gesturing for him to eat whatever he wanted, and stirred my tea, “So, I don’t think we have had an uninterrupted conversation, or any conversation in full. What do you do, like, specifically?”

  “I’m an architect with Nick and my brother. I lean more toward the skeleton of the projects though. I prefer to work on the plumbing and electrical.” Briggs went into some of the projects he had worked on recently and we talked for the better part of an hour, sharing hummus, and I got him to laugh, finally. It was deep and rough, like something he didn’t use often, and oh-so-sexy. We covered work and touched on family before his phone rang and he stood to talk across the patio, holding his finger up for me to wait. I watched him pace on the phone.

  B vanished from my mind, I was done with that, if there was a chance to have a connection with someone like Briggs, I was done with games. Briggsran his hands through the longer hair on top of his head while he paced. The man was beyond sexy. I watched him rather shamefully, memorizing the flex and pull of each muscle until he came back toward me, hanging up. He apologized, sitting across from me again, and smiling at me.

  “Let me cook you dinner tonight.” The words fell out of my mouth before I thought about it, but I didn’t regret it. After an hour of conversation with him, I was eager to know more, but not eager to sit there any longer. “We can talk about books and eat. I promise you won’t even miss the meat.” I had mentally written my new message to B explaining that I had to move on to someone that I could talk to, but knew I would forget before I got home. I would wish him the best and stop riding the bus for his sake. B could stop hiding and I could pursue more viable options. Like the gorgeous viable option across from me.

  “Really?” Briggs looked completely shocked at my offer. I was obviously too forward.

  “Really. I mean unless you don’t want to,” I stuttered out an answer. “No hard feelings if you don’t, I just wanted to offer.” All my self-confidence vanished and I feared I had misread it all. Just because I had fantasized about him didn’t mean the feelings were returned.

  “No, I do. I really want to. I mean really want to. I was just surprised. Dinner sounds great. Shouldn’t I ask you to dinner or a movie or something?” Briggs rushed an answer assuring me that I wasn’t completely off base, and sending the giddy fluttering through me again.

  “Not in this day and age.” I handed Briggs my phone and he keyed in his number.

  “Could you not tell Rae and Nick about this? I don’t mean to sound weird, but I have to live with Beck, and dinner after you turning him down would make my home life unpleasant. At least until I talk you into spending more time with me.” Briggs winked at me and I couldn’t suppress my giggle. Flirty Briggs was amazing.

  “I didn’t plan on it. I can imagine that would be a strange thing to explain to your brother, and Rae is so nosey anyway.” Briggs pushed up from his seat. “I’ll text you my address.” He nodded, flashing me a smile that showed off a dimple, and we agreed on six that evening. I watched him walk away, tucking his hands in his pockets as he strolled in the direction of my apartment. The pants did wonderful things for his ass, and the view had me going back to some of those naughty fantasies.

  Once Briggs had vanished from sight, I made a grocery list, gathered my things, and left in the same direction. It was well after lunch and I had a meal to plan and a painting to start from what I sketched the night before. Cleaning my messy apartment was on the list too. Going out with Rae and Nick on weekends meant I wasn’t home much to pick up. I was terrible about remembering to do little things like move laundry to the dryer from the washer and unload the dishes. I texted Briggs my address halfway through grocery shopping then hurried home to clean up the mess. Once dinner was planned and the apartment was clean, I settled at my desk, grabbing the small black notebook from the shelf.

  B,

  While I tend to disagree about your obsession with types, I appreciate your opinion. As much as this pains me, I am going to make this our last correspondence. I wanted to know you, I wanted to meet you and see if the connection was a real thing, but your refusal makes that impossible. You and I are both adults, and old enough to know what we want out of life. Seeing my friends with families and partners has solidified my need for that. With that being said, I can no longer play our game. It was fun and I wish you all the best in life, but this is not for me. I need more, deserve more, and so do you. Maybe someday you will see that you are worthy of a true connection outside of types and molds. When you realize it, I hope the love you find is what you always wanted.

  Sincerely,

  Harriet

  I added my phone number to the bottom in hopes that maybe B would decide to really contact me. I second guessed it with Briggs coming over but ultimately left it. Shutting down a relationship with B for Briggs seemed like I was getting ahead of myself. Me wanting to get completely lost in Briggs didn’t mean he felt the same, and accepting a dinner invitation did not equate to a relationship. In my fantasy world, maybe, but not in real life. My fantasy world was going to hit a new high after dinner with the gorgeous man of my dreams coming over. Just the idea of Briggs in my home made me excited.

  With that, I closed the notebook and returned it to the shelf with the other three. Those would be my parting gift to him. I spent a while sketching the scene from the park and painted a little before I had to start dinner. I turned on some ‘80s rock, dicing onions and swaying to the music while I cooked. I loved to cook, especially for other people. Something about providing nourishment for someone else made my soul happy. I brewed some fresh tea, sipping it as I added the honey, and put it in the fridge. The food simmered and I watered the plants I had set on the balcony for some sun. Rae had tried to get me to stay with her and Nick, promising to let me decorate to my liking, but I loved my own space. I made it mine quickly and the apartment was like my sanctuary. As much as I loved Rae and Nick, I wasn’t going to be happy in their house long-term. My new life meant I needed my autonomy.

  I was halfway through preparing dinner the knock came and I shouted for him to come in, realizing I had forgotten to lock the door. It was another thing I never remembered to do. “Do you always leave your door unlocked? Whoa.” I peeked through the doorway behind me to see Briggs looking around with complete fascination. “This place is amazing.”

  “My apartment is amazing? And yes, it’s unlocked if I’m expecting company.” I watched him for a moment more then turned back to dinner. How is the man so damn sexy? Briggs hadn’t changed clothes or anything, but something about him being in my space made him sexier. He also called me out on leaving the door unlocked.

  “It looks exactly like I expected it to, but better.” I watched him study the trinkets and candles on the shelves leading to the kitchen and lightly touch the tapestry that I pinned out of the doorway. He moved past me to the tiny patio that doubled as a fire escape, and examined each plant and the lights wrapped around the railing. When Briggs turned back I was staring at him and he flushed. “Sorry, I’m being nosey, aren’t I?”

  I shrugged, playing off that I had been gawking. Maybe he was nosey, but I was staring. “This is almost done, you want a grand tour or do you want to look around by yourself?” I offered him a glass of green tea and Briggs leaned into the counter next to me. The reserved man was gone. The Briggs in front of me was confident and friendly, easy-going. It was like seeing a new side of him that was reserved only for me, or my imagination wanted it only for me. My imagination wanted lots of things when it came to Briggs.

  “I can wait. I want you to show me around.” His eyes met mine for a second, “Thanks for inviting me, I don’t do things like this, but I’m drawn to you. It must be a Layton thing.” He sipped his tea and nodded his approval. I tossed a lid on my dish, turned down
the stove, and faced him. “Drawn” was an understatement when it came to my infatuation, but I only nodded. If he knew how long I had been putting him at the front of my fantasies, the guy would have been creeped out.

  “It seems like most of your time is spent following your brother, stuck in his shadow.” My words were slightly harsh, but true. The times I had seen them, Briggs was just that, overshadowed. They were equally attractive men, but on completely different levels. Beck’s attitude made him less desirable. Briggs had a humility that bordered on doormat status, at least where his brother was concerned, but it made him intriguing. It made me desperate to know what made Briggs tick.

  “Aren’t you astute?” At least he smiled. “That is the story of my life, actually. I was born four minutes after him, and I have trailed behind ever since. But right this moment, I am where Beck wants to be and he has no idea.” Briggs had a sudden mischief about him that made me smile. He was an enigma for sure, but at least I had the evening to try to figure him out, maybe longer. “So, it may have taken me thirty-two years, but there is a first time for everything.” At least his karma was catching up. Thirty-two made him seven years my senior and even sexier. My infatuation with older men was no secret.

  I swept my arm toward the doorway, needing to leave the small confines of my kitchen. “Let’s do that tour.” I walked him through the living room where he studied my bright bookshelves, nodding occasionally when he found a title he appreciated. The dining room that I converted into a studio seemed to be his favorite. He took in my paintings, studying them with enough attention to make me blush. Briggs didn’t say anything, but spent time examining each one before following me to my room. I pulled back the Mandala curtain, allowing him to scan the room before he retreated.