Kiss the Girl Page 12

  “Thank you, Royce, for the invitation. The room is dazzling.”

  He looked around and met her stare intensely. “It is, isn’t it?” The enthusiasm in his voice made her feel like she’d made the most innovative statement of the night. Geez, this guy had charisma. He inclined his head in the direction of her glass. “I see you’ve already snagged a drink, but before you leave tonight, make a point to try one of our summer wine spritzers. They’re pouring three different flavors at the bar. A brand-new product that I’m confident you and your people are going to have a field day with. I can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with.” Again with the intense staring.

  “I’ll be sure to do that. Enjoy the party.” She knew better than to stay too long. There was a fine line between networking and schmoozing, and she was definitely not a schmoozer. She wasn’t warm enough to schmooze. Now Mallory Spencer was another story. With her dazzling smile and melodic laughter on cue, she’d perfected the art. Jessica had to hand it to her, even if it was annoying from a competitive standpoint.

  And speak of the devil in Prada, there she was. Right on cue. And already making her way over to Royce, where she would probably camp for the next twenty minutes. “Typical,” she said quietly to herself as she accepted a glass of Foster’s Pear Pinot Grigio.

  “What’s typical?” She turned at the sound of Brooklyn’s voice. As she opened her mouth to answer the question, the words faded from her lips. Because the image in front of her was quite easily the most picturesque visual she’d seen in recent history. Brooklyn wore a midnight-blue cocktail dress that draped across one shoulder, dipping subtly at the bustline before falling just past her mid thigh. It was sexy and dignified all at once. Her hair was pulled back, but only partially, as soft tendrils touched her shoulders, curling ever so slightly at the ends. “Oh.”

  Brooklyn quirked her head. “Oh?’

  “You just look…really beautiful.”

  Brooklyn grinned as the compliment settled. “Thank you. But I think you’ve shown me up. I realize now that I’ve never seen you out of business attire. It’s kind of surreal.”

  Jessica thought about it. “You’re right. You haven’t.”

  “This is a whole new concept for me. It’s…”

  Jessica raised an eyebrow. “It’s…”

  Brooklyn gave her head a little shake. “Not important.” It was then that a bouncy bottle-blonde landed at Brooklyn’s elbow and handed her a glass of wine.

  “Hello,” Jessica said to the woman.

  “Oh, hi. We haven’t met. I’m Sophie Dean.”

  Brooklyn touched her forehead guiltily. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m rude. Sophie, this is Jessica Lennox. She also works in advertising. We’re highly competitive and take every chance we get to make the other look bad.”

  Jessica laughed, understanding the jest, but Sophie just looked wildly confused. “She’s kidding,” Jessica assured her.

  “Oh, okay.” Sophie smiled again, all okay with the world. She was cute, which made Jessica start to wonder.

  “How do you two know each other?”

  “Sophie is my date. We met recently at a get-together.”

  “We danced at a club,” Sophie supplied. “She’s a fantastic dancer.”

  “Really?” Jessica enthused falsely. “I wouldn’t know.” A crop of total and complete jealousy was upon her before she knew it. It was childish and unattractive, but it was there all the same.

  Suddenly Sophie was on her tiptoes and all sorts of excited. “Is that John Stamos over there? I love John Stamos. His hair started trends in the nineties that we’re still learning from today. Excuse me a moment.” And she headed off like a kid after a Santa Claus sighting.

  Left alone, Brooklyn raised one shoulder. “She does hair for ABC.”

  “Wow,” Jessica said dryly. “Ambitious.”

  Brooklyn stared at her, taken aback. “Okay. That was rude.”

  “Then I apologize.” Her delivery was less than convincing. She was aware.

  “Not everyone works in big business. Nor should they. The world wouldn’t go round. Why are you being judgmental?”

  Jessica forced a smile. “I’m just surprised you brought a date to a business gathering.”

  “The thing is, I’m not conducting business tonight, so I think we’re in the clear.”

  Jessica took a breath and relented because she was acting like a jackass with no real sense of why. “You’re right. And I’m out of line.”

  “Hey, Brooks. You look lovely this evening.” A striking woman with auburn hair woven into a complicated French braid kissed Brooklyn’s cheek before turning her attention to Jessica. “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. Samantha Ennis.” Aha. The roommate.

  “Jessica Lennox. A pleasure to meet you. I hear you keep your side of the apartment neat and orderly.”

  Samantha nodded in amusement. “My reputation is intact then.”

  Jessica smiled back. “If you’ll both excuse me, I think I see someone I need to say hello to.” It was a lie, an excuse to get her out of the conversation because no good was going to come of it. Brooklyn’s date was already working her way back over, and she’d rather not stick around for the flirtatious display. Because really, who’d want to experience that? No one. That’s who.

  But after just a few steps, the world swayed violently in front of her. Whoa. As a result, she stumbled, almost to the ground if it wasn’t for Brooklyn’s quick reflexes. She was instantly there with a hand under her elbow to steady her. Her eyes flashed concern. “Hey, you okay? Jess?”

  “Yeah, just, uh, dizzy for a second. I think I’m fine now.” She blinked a few times to clear her vision.

  “Are you sure?” Brooklyn didn’t look convinced.

  “Yeah. I should have eaten something. I skipped lunch.”

  “You should hit the hors d’oeuvre table. Better yet, why don’t I get you a plate?”

  Jessica flashed her most confident smile in an attempt to put Brooklyn at ease. “A nice gesture, but I got it. You better get back to your date.”

  Brooklyn released her and she headed off in search of Bentley, though she suddenly was having a hard time coming up with where he said they’d meet up. And oh, there were two of that man, which was kind of cool and frightening. She steadied herself on one of the fancy ornate columns. Oh, it felt kind of nice. Cool to the touch and sandpapery. Dizzy again. Get it together, Lennox.

  “She’s really attractive,” Samantha said to Brooklyn once they were alone. “You were right about that part.”

  Brooklyn turned to her, frustrated beyond all measure. “Yeah, but why does she have to be? It would make things at least a tad bit easier if she were just more everyday. Is plain too much to ask for in a woman?”

  “Who’s everyday?” Sophie asked.

  “Definitely not Jessica Lennox,” Samantha said. The daggers Brooklyn shot her couldn’t inflict enough harm.

  Sophie beamed in amusement and pointed at Sam in a circular motion. “Oh, I think I’m picking up on something here. Somebody has a crush?”

  “Oh, I think so.” Samantha grinned back at Sophie as Brooklyn shook her head, silently sending Samantha death threats via roommate ESP.

  Sophie linked her arm through Brooklyn’s. “You should fix them up, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

  “Why not?” Samantha asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes like the traitor she so clearly was. Oh, she was enjoying this way too much.

  “You know what, Samantha?” Brooklyn inclined her head at a scene across the room. “Hunter is surrounded by a gaggle of good-looking women. And oh, look, a few men too. Bonus for you. Why don’t you go see if she’ll share?”

  Sam shook her head, grinning. “No way. Too much fun over here.”

  “Speaking of your girl,” Sophie said to Samantha. “She looks a little pale.”

  Brooklyn followed her gaze to Jessica, who was making her way across the room, and it only took
her a moment to see that something was definitely off. Sophie was right. She was pale, and she wasn’t carrying herself with her normal grace and confidence. She looked on as Jessica finally crossed to a chair and sat down, seemingly out of it. “Okay. She doesn’t look good, you guys. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Samantha said.

  “I don’t do good with sick,” Sophie called after them. “Gonna hang back over there with, what was your friend’s name? Hunter?” Brooklyn registered Sophie’s words, but they didn’t carry much weight. Her concern was firmly elsewhere in the moment. In a matter of seconds, Brooklyn was kneeling next to Jessica.

  “Hey, Jess. You okay?”

  Jessica stared at her absently. “Have you seen Bentley? My friend.” She closed her eyes, regrouping. “My assistant. From Foster’s, remember?”

  “The guy you had with you that first day?” Brooklyn asked.

  “Sure. Most days.”

  “This is unlike her?” Samantha asked Brooklyn under her breath.

  “One hundred percent. Something’s up.” She turned back to Jessica. “Jess, can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

  “Strange. And the room is strange.”

  Brooklyn offered Jessica an encouraging smile. “Strange. That’s a start. Are you able to walk?”

  “Yes. I think so.” And she could, just not especially well. Brooklyn escorted her to the women’s restroom, and Samantha trailed after them. Once inside, Jessica was able to splash some water on her face as they looked on in concern.

  Samantha took the reins. “Do you have any allergies? Could you have eaten something that set off an allergic reaction?”

  “No, uh-uh. I’m not allergic to food. But I think I’ll sit back down so the room will calm the hell down.”

  Brooklyn sprang into action. “Okay. Yikes. But maybe not on the floor. There’s a chair over there. Let’s get you into it.” She helped Jessica from the floor to the chair. “Maybe you had too much to drink.”

  “I had one glass of champagne and a few sips of whatever the hell that Foster drink is. I’m not a lightweight, Brooklyn Campbell. It’s sleepy in here. Are you guys sleepy? Let’s all take a nap.” Jessica lowered her head onto the arm of the chair.

  She wasn’t talking anything like herself, and Brooklyn was concerned. “Not quite yet, okay?”

  Samantha knelt in front of her. “Jessica, I don’t want to offend you, but have you taken any sort of substance?”

  Jessica lifted her head from where it rested on the arm of the chair. “Drugs? No. I don’t do drugs. Ever. Nancy Reagan, ’member?”

  “I do, but I had to check.”

  “I think I should head home,” Jessica said, pushing herself back up into a seated position.

  Brooklyn held up a hand. “Not the best idea to head out alone when you’re…not feeling well.” She sent Samantha a questioning look, but she just shrugged in equal mystification.

  Jessica frowned at them. “There was the migraine medicine from my doctor. I took that today, and it’s good stuff too. Five stars. It got rid of my headache.”

  “Do you have it with you?”

  Jessica gestured to the counter. “It’s in my clutch.”

  Actually, it was all that was in her clutch outside of some cash, her phone, and some lipstick. Brooklyn turned the bottle and read the label. “Jess, it says not to take with alcohol, in big bold letters. I think you’re having a reaction to the combination.”

  “The wallpaper in here is pretty.”

  “Yeah, okay, you definitely are.”

  Samantha took the bottle and did a little reading. “There’s a number here. I’m going to call.”

  “Good idea,” Jessica mumbled. “I’ll sit here and politely ask the room to stop spinning. Stop spinning,” she whispered to the wall.

  A short time later, Samantha hung up the phone and confirmed what they’d suspected. Migraine medicine and champagne didn’t mix well. “The pharmacist also said that if she hasn’t eaten, and she said she hasn’t, the effects would be intensified. She should be fine in a few hours, but someone needs to keep an eye on her just in case. Given the information, I think we should get her out of here before things get worse.” She turned to Jessica. “Did you come in a cab? Subway?”

  “My car service.”

  Brooklyn reached for the clutch. “I’ll call them for you. Is the number in your phone?”

  “It’s labeled ‘car.’”

  Brooklyn felt her mouth tug. “Very inventive of you.”

  Jessica leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “I’m practical. We can’t all be charming.”

  Samantha tossed Brooklyn a sideways glance. “I think there’s a compliment for you in there somewhere.”

  “There is,” Jessica said, and then a thought seemed to occur to her. “Wait. First I need to go say good night to Royce. It’s good business and he has tall hair.”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking that would be a bad idea,” Brooklyn said.

  “Right,” Samantha agreed, wincing. “Even I don’t want the account that badly.”

  Jessica waved them off. “I can pull it together. It’ll be fine.”

  Brooklyn shook her head. “It won’t, so you’re just gonna have to trust me on this one, slugger. Let’s go.”

  She smiled lazily. “I like it when you call me slugger. You’re coming too?”

  Brooklyn and Samantha exchanged a look. “You go,” Samantha said. “I’ll make sure Sophie gets home. Or, you know, Hunter will.” She smiled playfully.

  “All’s fair in love and war, I guess.” She turned to Jessica. “I’m coming with you. Someone needs to make sure you make it home okay.”

  Jessica pointed to the door. “Let Bentley know I wasn’t feeling well?”

  Samantha nodded. “I’ll find him.”

  Brooklyn kissed Samantha’s cheek. “You’re the best, Sammie.”

  Ten minutes later, Brooklyn was able to assist Jessica out of the party undetected, and they made their way down the stairs to the town car idling just past the entrance. As they drove to the apartment, Jessica turned to her. “It feels like the car is flying.” Yep. They were still firmly in the land of magic migraine pills. “Is the car, in fact, flying? Can you confirm this?”

  Brooklyn smiled. “Those are some good drugs you took.”

  “My head’s so fuzzy. I’m sorry.”

  “Drink some more water,” Brooklyn prompted her. “And let’s roll the window down, get some fresh air moving through here.”

  Jessica closed her eyes and settled her head back on the seat. “That’s nice,” she murmured as the cold air rushed in. The car wound its way through the city before finally pulling up in front of a rather modern-looking high-rise in the West Village. A buttoned-up doorman stood out front looking rather serious.

  “So this is you?” Brooklyn asked, staring up at the place. “Jess?”

  Jessica’s eyes fluttered a few times and she oriented herself a moment. “Oh. Yeah, this is home. Um, but you can just drop me.”

  “Right. Because that would be responsible. Give me your hand, Cinderella.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  She helped Jessica out of the car and steadied her when she swayed. Once the elevator arrived on the fourteenth floor, Jessica stopped them.

  “Make sure Ashton’s not in the hallway? My neighbor. She’ll think I’m drunk, and that cannot be an image she has of me right now.”

  It was a thoughtful gesture, thinking of the kid. Brooklyn nodded. “I’ll take a look first.” Finding the walkway vacant, she returned for Jessica. “Coast is clear. Lead the way?”

  Jessica’s apartment was elegant. Tall ceilings and parquet hardwood floors covered with a fluffy lavender rug. But it was homey at the same time, which was an impressive feat. A sculpted beige sofa faced a wall-mounted television. A matching purple chenille blanket draped across the back of the couch. The room was open to the small, though stylish, kitchen with m
aple cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. It was a nice apartment, though it had to be out-of-this-world expensive, given the neighborhood. Brooklyn couldn’t even conjure a guess without six zeroes tagging along. But it was very Jessica and she loved it.

  Speaking of Jessica, upon entering the apartment, she had promptly deposited herself on the sofa, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling. “I hate dizzy. It’s the worst feeling. When I close my eyes, it just gets worse.”

  Brooklyn sat on the arm and looked down at her. “I think you should eat something. Maybe it’ll take the edge off. Why don’t you go get changed and I’ll raid your kitchen. I’m no kitchen ninja, but I make a mean grilled cheese.”

  A small smile touched Jessica’s mouth. “Like when I was a kid. My dad made me those.”

  “Mhmm. Just like that. Is it a plan?”

  She seemed to run the words through again. “I get changed. You’re gonna cook.”

  “And then we get you to bed.”

  A slow smile took over Jessica’s face. “Yeah?”

  Brooklyn felt the heat on her cheeks. “To sleep. We get you to sleep so you can wake up refreshed and recovered and the normal Jessica again.”

  She frowned. “Not as much fun, but okay.”

  The contents of Jessica’s fridge were overwhelming and offered insight into the woman herself. Lots of raw vegetables, several different kinds of cheese, some organic orange juice, and in surprising news, tons of individual-sized pudding cups. Brooklyn smiled at the image of Jessica enjoying her pudding cup as she fed her addiction to reality TV.

  Luckily, in the midst of it all, she was easily able to drum up the basics: bread, cheese, and butter. The essentials for any grilled cheese. The key to making it the best grilled cheese was the kind of cheese you used. Personally, she preferred chevre. But because she didn’t know Jessica’s taste just yet, she relegated herself to the old standby, American. Her motto was always extra, extra cheese, followed by more cheese. After the sandwich popped and sizzled in the butter, she pulled off a one-handed flip and congratulated herself on technique. Once finished, she transferred her masterpiece from the pan to the plate and called over her shoulder to the back of the apartment. “Order up, Jess.”