Kiss the Girl Read online

  The fire in her eyes seemed to make the blue ever so vibrant and left Jessica momentarily fumbling for her words.

  A foreign predicament.

  Brooklyn had a way of disarming her in a way no one else ever had. “I’ve never said or implied anything of the sort. Why are you so defensive?”

  “Don’t call me defensive.”

  “Then don’t come at me like I’ve committed some kind of crime. I’m doing my job.”

  “And so am I. So why don’t we concentrate on doing those jobs and leave the rest of this bullshit out of it?”

  Jessica flashed her most patronizing smile. “Fine by me, but the last time I checked, you didn’t mind a little extra attention.”

  It was a low blow, even for her. Brooklyn met her gaze with an ice-cold stare. “Perfect. That’s perfect.” With a final shake of her head, she turned abruptly on her heel and headed off down Seventy-fourth.

  Jessica sighed deeply at her retreat, because God, did she look good doing it.

  *

  Brooklyn didn’t know why she’d gone out of her way to pick a fight with Jessica. She could have easily let her walk away and found satisfaction in the fact that Savvy had outpitched The Lennox Group.

  That should have been enough.

  But for whatever reason, she’d let loose her inner bitch, and it had ended badly. At first, the exchange had felt good, and she’d walked away angry and triumphant all at the same time.

  But several hours later and the unwelcome guilt was getting to her.

  Why she couldn’t just live with the little bit of animosity she’d infused into their relationship? It was good for them. And this feeling she had, it was annoying, the side of her that cared about her standing with high-and-mighty Jessica Lennox.

  She was over it. Did you hear her, universe? Over it.

  Brooklyn was meeting her friends for celebratory drinks at Showroom, the always bustling bar they frequented a block and a half from their building. When the place first opened, it had been a home to everything trendy, but the locals had quickly taken over, and it was now the epitome of comfortable and laid-back. The space was a converted warehouse from the 1800s. Very industrial but with the swanky perks of sculpted furniture and high-end lighting fixtures. It was way off the beaten path for tourists, so the clientele essentially consisted of neighborhood regulars. And for the Savvy girls, it was their go-to.

  Brooklyn pulled open the door to Showroom and was met with the sounds of indie rock playing from the speakers. It was Friday, which meant lots more people and lots more music.

  Thank God. She felt like losing herself tonight.

  It appeared she was the last to arrive and easily located their table past the bar and to the right. As she walked by the dark mahogany bar, she made note of the fact that a new bartender was on tonight—a blonde with her hair pulled back partially, who seemed to be making crazy work of the drink orders in front of her with skilled precision. Brooklyn stopped to watch a minute, which earned her a smile. Very smooth, both the smile and the skills. And judging from the look of her, this new bartender was going to make a killing in tips.

  “You look great,” Hunter said as Brooklyn approached. “Hot date tonight?”

  She’d worn her cute red dress because she felt like it. “If you three count, sure.”

  Mallory inched a martini her way. “We preordered for you. Cucumber, your favorite.” Her friends raised their glasses.

  “To Brooks,” Samantha said. “And all the hard work she’s put in.”

  Brooklyn joined them. “Okay, but I couldn’t have done any of this without you three. It’s pretty much a team effort around here.”

  “Then to all of us,” Hunter said as they clinked their glasses. “Because we’re all pretty fucking awesome for taking this one. I, for one, have never eaten so much peanut butter in preparation for art design.”

  They laughed and Mallory turned to Brooklyn. “But in fairness, this one is kind of your baby, and you’ve done a fantastic job. The news we got today is just further confirmation of what we already knew. You’re a creative genius, a superstar of ideas.”

  Brooklyn didn’t quite know what to say because geez, those words really mattered to her. She had been working really hard, and today, it had paid off. It felt good to hear the appreciation from her friends. “Thank you. Now, I think we could all use a night off. I, for one, am prepared to let off a little steam.” She took a long drink of the cucumber martini as a waitress dropped an additional drink at their table.

  Mallory looked to Hunter. “Undoubtedly for you.” It was true that when a drink showed up, nine times out of ten it was from one of Hunter’s fifteen thousand admirers.

  “No. Actually, it’s for you,” the waitress said to Mallory. “Courtesy of our new bartender.” As if programmed to do so, all four heads turned in unison toward the bar. The hot bartender nodded once in their direction and went back to taking the order of the girl in front of her.

  “Whoa,” Samantha murmured. “She’s incredibly attractive.”

  “Nice job, Mal.” Hunter nudged her.

  Mallory sent her a look that said behave. “Please. It’s one drink. She’s just being friendly.”

  “That’s one word for it,” Brooklyn quipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to dance like a crazy person. Anyone want to dance like a crazy person?”

  “I’m in,” Hunter said, taking the hand Brooklyn offered over her head and dancing behind her to the dance floor.

  Sunday through Wednesday, Showplace was a mild-mannered bar scene, but come Thursday, the dance floor opened up and the place raged. It was exceptionally crowded that Friday, but she and Hunter found their own spot and let loose to the rapid beat from the DJ in the corner. Brooklyn closed her eyes and let the music flow through her, letting the stresses of the week leave her body as she grooved to bass that pounded the floor.

  Several songs in and Hunter was no longer by her side. She’d been replaced with a sassy blonde who knew how to move. The dancing grew closer, and Brooklyn enjoyed the brushing of hips, hands, and thighs.

  “What’s your name?” she asked the girl once the music dipped into a slower number.

  She leaned in close to Brooklyn’s ear. “Sophie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Brooklyn. Want to get a drink?”

  She seemed to consider the question. “Yeah. I could use a refresher.”

  They got to talking over cucumber martinis, and it turned out that Sophie was a hairstylist who worked for ABC News. She lived in the Meatpacking District with three roommates and loved New York.

  And she was cute as well as seemingly intelligent. Definite bonus points.

  “You should give me your number.”

  Sophie smiled. “And why is that?”

  “Because I think you and I have lots more to talk about. And dance about.”

  Sophie reached for Brooklyn’s phone and typed in her number. “I hope I hear from you,” she said as she handed it back.

  “Oh, you most definitely will.” Brooklyn held her gaze and grinned.

  “You’re really beautiful, you know that?” And before she had time to think, Sophie’s lips were on hers and she wasn’t shy about reciprocating. It was a pretty good kiss too, and she felt that little sizzle that always comes when you kiss someone you’re attracted to.

  They danced the night away, she and Sophie, practically closing the place down. But it was the kind of fun she was looking for. The kind you didn’t have to think about, agonize about, or feel guilty about later.

  As she lay in bed that night, she played back the events of the evening. It’d been a good night. She’d had fun and met someone she’d see again. They’d kissed and it’d been good. Go her.

  She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Sleep didn’t come easy. But in a twist she could have seen coming a mile away, Sophie’s kiss wasn’t the one she lay awake that night thinking about.

  Chapter Eight

  Brooklyn’s r
outine had stayed pretty consistent since she’d moved into her place in Soho. Wake up, brush her teeth, and head to the gym two blocks down, where she’d spend the next hour sweating alongside Mallory while they looked out the giant picturesque windows at the city skyline.

  The people-watcher in her enjoyed getting to see the city slowly wake up as pedestrians with briefcases began to populate the sidewalks. Businesswomen walked by in sneakers, their high heels stashed in their attachés until they reached their office building. Dog walkers zigzagged their way around the hustle and bustle, stopping at the coffee cart for their morning pick-me-up and a pastry. There was just something about New York City in the morning…

  “You make the call yet?” Mallory asked from the treadmill next to hers.

  “I make lots of calls. Which one were you referencing? I need specifics, Spencer.”

  Mallory shot her a sideways glance as she ran. “Only the most important call.”

  “Oh. Well, if you’re referencing my wayward birth mother—”

  “I am.”

  “—then no. I haven’t gotten around to it yet. The past few weeks have been crazy. You know that.”

  Mallory turned the dial on her treadmill to the right, upping her speed. Automatically, Brooklyn’s competitive spirit kicked in, and she was forced to follow suit.

  “You’re deflecting.”

  “Explain my deflection.”

  “You’re coming up with all the reasons in the world to avoid your own life. It’s what you do when things get tough. I’m not coming down on you, Brooks. I just want you to make sure you’re doing things for the right reasons.”

  Brooklyn ran on, letting Mallory’s words sink in as her calves burned and her heart pounded. They ran in silence for a stretch. She pushed herself beyond the usual, running until she couldn’t catch her breath. But she liked the feeling, because as she ran, she didn’t obsess or overthink or doubt herself.

  As she brought the treadmill back down to a walking pace, Brooklyn watched raindrops begin to chase each other across the window. Several stories below, umbrellas sprang open and an array of colors now dotted the newly wet sidewalk.

  “Would you say I’m emotionally unavailable?” They were in the midst of their cool-down, and the euphoric high from the run gave Brooklyn the courage to ask the question.

  Mallory took a minute. “I think you take care of yourself, and I get why.”

  As they walked, Brooklyn wiped her forehead with a towel. “That’s not what I asked.”

  “What’s the longest relationship you’ve had?”

  She did the math. “A couple of months.”

  “It was Tracy. And she was a decent fit for you, but the second things got close to serious, you bailed.”

  “I didn’t bail.”

  “You did, Brooks. You ran. You let her calls roll to voice mail right in front of me. Canceled plans at the last minute. It was emotional withdrawal perfected. All because she got too close to you. To your heart.”

  Brooklyn turned the treadmill off and stared at the window for a moment. Suddenly, she felt very exposed. “It’s not like I was trying to…” But then she couldn’t quite find the words for the damn lump that formed in her throat. Because being called on what she knew was true of herself was hard.

  “I know. It’s a defense mechanism. You put it up with us in the beginning too. It took years for you to trust me. I just worry that you might miss out on something good because of it.”

  A moment passed.

  She raised her gaze to Mallory. “I think I’ll call her tonight.”

  “Tracy?”

  Brooklyn laughed and it felt good, the tension falling away. “No, crazytown. Cynthia. My mother. There’s probably never going to be a perfect time. I should just go for it.”

  Mallory put her arm around Brooklyn as they walked to the locker room. “Let me know how it goes, okay? I’m here for you. No matter what time of the day or night.”

  She nodded and smiled. “I know. That’s why you’re Mallory.”

  *

  The lobby was silent, except for the distant sounds of thunder. Jessica had left her umbrella back at the office, figuring the morning storms had packed up and moved on. Bad move. Bad, bad move.

  She glanced at her watch, noting that she still had a few minutes before her appointment with Royce to iron out some of the details for the bacon promos that would go into production in just a few weeks.

  Across the room from her, Brooklyn studied her phone. Anything, she was guessing, to not have to talk to Jessica. They hadn’t run into each other the past few days, and it had given her time to reflect on their last exchange. She didn’t like the way she’d handled things. It was uncharacteristic of her to engage in such a basic argument, but Brooklyn had gotten under her skin. She seemed to have a way of doing that, and it was becoming a problem.

  Finally, as the silence ticked on, Jessica couldn’t stand the cold war any longer. Because no matter how she sliced it, she liked Brooklyn, damn it. “We’re still fighting, aren’t we?”

  Brooklyn glanced up, devoid of all emotion. “Yeah, I think we are.” And back to her phone.

  A pause. Jessica pressed forward. “You know, I’m not enjoying the fight as much as I was hoping to.”

  When Brooklyn sighed and her face softened, Jessica saw the girl underneath. “Yeah, it’s missing some of the, I don’t know, aggression. I’m trying to hate you. Really I am.”

  “Ditto. And for the record, I shouldn’t have made the remark about the attention.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. It was mean.” She blew out a breath. “But I shouldn’t have goaded you the way I did. It was less than professional.”

  “Or friendly.”

  “Or that.”

  “So we should go back to being corporate rivals who aren’t so blatantly hateful to one another?” Jessica asked.

  “Right. Standard run-of-the-mill rivals. None of the fancy stuff.”

  She felt the smile tug at her lips. “I’m agreeable to that.”

  “Excuse me, ladies,” the receptionist said as she hung up the phone. “Unfortunately, an impromptu company meeting has been called, and Mr. Foster has asked that I reschedule all appointments for today.”

  Jessica sent a questioning glance to Brooklyn, who stood and crossed to the reception desk. “So we’re canceled?”

  “Unfortunately so,” the woman answered.

  Brooklyn shook her head in defeat. “Fabulous.”

  But it got worse from there, as once they reached the glass doors that led them out to the street, the rain was coming down like rapid gunfire. Pedestrians scurried for cover as if their lives depended on it.

  “Now that’s what I call a fall shower,” she murmured.

  Brooklyn tilted her head. “Or angry act of God.”

  “Are you gonna make a run for it?” Just then they watched as a powerful gust of wind flipped a woman’s umbrella inside out. She struggled with it halfway down the street as the downpour soaked her through. Jessica stared on in shock. “Like a scene from Mary Poppins.”

  “You know, I’m not in an incredible hurry. At least you have a car. I took the A train.”

  “Not today, I don’t. My driver had a dentist’s appointment. So I’m on my own. I took a cab here, but it would be impossible to grab one now.”

  “And the subway’s several long blocks away.”

  Jessica studied the coffee shop just off the building’s main lobby. “We could grab a cup. Wait for a lull.”

  “What? You’d be willing to be seen with me? What would people say?”

  “That a beautiful woman agreed to have coffee with me in lieu of death by giant raindrops.”

  Brooklyn seemed to consider this, finally meeting her eyes. “I can live with those rumors.”

  They snagged a table at the corner where they had the best view of the action outside and settled in with their steaming cups of joe. Brooklyn pointed at a pedestrian just beyond the window. “I feel bad for t
hat guy. That newspaper over his head is going to disintegrate in three point two seconds. Not the most thought-out plan.”

  “But that little newspaper is all he has. Plus, he probably has some place to be. Oh, and now it’s in two pieces. Sad times. We should invite him in.”

  “Definitely, Jess. You should run out there and bring him back right away. ”

  “Oh, I’ll get right on that.” That’s when Brooklyn licked a small dollop of whipped cream from the side of the cup. Jessica tried not to watch, but it turned out that wasn’t really an option. Christ. The visual sent a flash of heat to her face and downward. Brooklyn licking things was…too much to think about.

  Jessica tried desperately to shift gears. “How do you feel about rain?”

  Brooklyn looked skyward. “Well, first of all, rain is good luck. And you know how I feel about luck. And when I’m tucked away like this, I love it. Give me a blanket and a good book and I’m in heaven. Something about it just makes me want to, I don’t know, curl up. Stay in. Snuggle.”

  The image was a great one and brought a smile to her lips. Brooklyn had this way of driving every other thought from her head. Jessica was no longer interested in what she was missing at the office or the fact that she needed to send out her dry cleaning, things that had been in the forefront of her mind just an hour before.

  Brooklyn caught it and leaned in. “What? What’s that smile about? Are you judging me right now for being snuggly?”

  She shook her head absently, trying to ignore the warmth of the tug in the center of her stomach. “I like the rain too.”

  “See? We aren’t so different after all.”

  “No.” They stared at each other for a minute before turning back out to the street.

  Brooklyn glanced over at Jessica. She was enjoying herself and feeling brave. “So what’s new in your life lately? And I’m not asking about work. I think it’s best if we avoid that topic to preserve whatever mutual respect we’re building upon. You and me are tenuous.”