Chapter Two
Her chair was pulled out with a loud bump, and she fell into it, reaching for her bag. Wordlessly, he passed it to her, watching as she dug through it quickly, picking out her eyeglass case and slipping the clear spectacles over her eyes. She looked at him, and he could tell that though she was still angry, it wasn't as fierce anymore. "Is...something wrong, Brooklyn?" he asked.
Her gaze didn't waver for a moment. "Brooke, if you don't mind. I prefer it to Brooklyn." He nodded slowly, still watching her. "And what makes you think that something is wrong? Nothing's wrong. I just happen to be...well...I'm very happy this morning." She kept looking at him until she dropped her head slowly on the table. Her glasses slid down a little but didn't fall off. Instead, they hit the table with a muffled thump, and she pushed the up without thinking about them. "Okay, my morning has been a piece of crap, and I didn't mean to call you scum but you're the closest male at the time, so it worked out. Can we please just get down to this?" she asked.
JC cleared his throat and felt himself about to o into uncharted territory. At least, it was uncharted for him. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he was supposed to bring up the subject, and decided for the direct approach. "Not until you lose the 'I hate the world' attitude. I refuse to work with someone's who's acting like a spoiled brat."
Her eyes widened, and the eyebrows went up. "Excuse me? I'm not acting like a spoiled brat. I'm just...angry. Since when is that a sin?" she asked, her voice quieting.
"Wrong choice of words, I guess. What's wrong?"
She seemed reluctant to say anything at first, but she finally relented. "We're in different genres of music, so the chances of you and me seeing each other again are pretty slim. It can't hurt for me to say anything, I suppose." She broke off and stared into space as she tucked her hair behind her ears. He noticed that she didn't have any piercing at all. He found that a little strange at first, since he was so used to seeing women with at least one set of earrings, but she didn't seem to have any at all. "Oh, don't look like someone died. My boyfriend and I just got into another fight this morning. He's jealous of you," she added with a smile, more to herself than him.
His eyebrows merged in confusion. "Why in the world would he be jealous of me?" he asked.
"I'm spending more time with you and at the studio than I am with him, since I've come back. He goes through this every time I finish a tour and start a new album. He'll be fine with it in a few days, but until then, it's absolute hell." She looked over and finally smiled like she had yesterday. It made her look younger, seem a lot younger than she was. "So, can we start now that I've explained myself?" she asked.
He nodded quickly. "Sure. You have everything you need?" The folder was pulled out of her bag, and she held it up with a proud smile. "Aww, you deserve a cookie, Brookly...Brooke."
"Thank you, very much. Brooklyn is such a horrible name," she added as an afterthought and opened the folder, pulling out the papers that the two of them had been talking about the night before. They bent over them, looking like little children studying for a test in school, as Brooklyn's hand shot out by itself and pulled a pack of Juicy Fruit from her purse. She popped a piece in her mouth slowly, relishing in the sweet taste before she shoved it along the table to him. He picked it up while still reading and pulled a piece out, tossing the pack back to her. If anyone had looked in the room at that moment, they probably would have laughed, but neither one saw anything humorous about what they were doing. It was all business...until lunch.
By then, Brooklyn was sore, and tired from reading so much. "We need lunch, I think," she said, her hands in the air as she stretched her back. He winced as it cracked, watching as she stood up and pushed her chair back in. "We can just leave everything here. Everyone knows that this is my room when I'm planning an album."
He nodded and stood up as well, passing her the bag she had brought with her. "Sure. The diner?" he asked.
"I'm going to turn you into a regular before you leave." She chuckled as they headed to the door, walking in silence to the elevator. She pressed the button and rocked on her heels as the doors opened for them. They stepped inside, Brooklyn smiling at the men standing in there. "Hey, guys," she said pleasantly, looking to see that the lobby floor button was pressed. "Y'all working hard, or should I go tell the boss that you're slacking?" she asked, in a teasing tone.
One of them slung his arms around her neck in a hug and grinned. "Nice try, Brooke. I happen to know that you're not working very hard. Reading those romance novels from what I hear."
"Oh, yeah. I would just die if I didn't get a hit of Danielle Steel every day. My heart would just stop beating. And all those novels with Fabio on the cover..." she broke off and pretended to swoon. He chuckled and pushed her out the door when they opened. She shot a quick smile at him before looking outside Her mouth dropped open, her gum almost falling out. "Wow, it's raining. You ready to run? No pun intended," she chuckled, reaching for the door handle.
JC shook his head. "I guess." He looked doubtful, so Brooklyn giggled and took his wrist before pushing the doors open. She pulled him along the parking lot, and towards the road. "Are you crazy?" he asked, when he saw what she was going to do. The question came out as a shout, considering that the rain seemed to be quite loud. The sky had been a beautiful blue earlier without a cloud to be seen.
She grinned and continued puling him until she was running across the road with him, shooting in front of the cars and between some. "Nope, don't think so," she shouted back as they made it safely to the diner. She opened the door and walked in, shaking the water out of her hair. "Hello, everyone," she caroled before making her way to the stools they had sat at the day before. He found it funny that no matter how packed the restaurant was, there always seemed to be two stools cleared, and they were always the same, from what he saw.
Molly grinned at the two of them as they sat down. "Hello there, Brooke. And hello to you again, JC. I take it that breakfast wasn't too bad this morning," she said with a smile as she set up the coffee cups for them.
She turned to look at her dining partner with an amazed smile. "I knew it. I knew that you wouldn't be able to stay away from this place. Isn't he just the coolest?" she asked, jerking her thumb towards JC. A boyish grin spread on his face as he reached for the sugar in front of him.
"I have to admit, he's a hell of a lot better than that guy you call a boyfriend. He doesn't like this place."
Brooklyn smiled, brushing back her hair from her temples with both hands. "Hey, not all of us are perfect. Now, Molly, I think I'm going to shock you a little here. Normally, I would love to have my omelet, but I have this strange craving for french toast. Think you can handle the shock?"
Her mouth dropped open before she snapped her gum. "I think I can handle it. Handsome, what'll you have?"
"Chicken stew all the way," he said, that same smile on his face. "It's getting cold out there."
Brooklyn shook her head slowly. "It looks like it's going to turn out to be a heck of a storm. Nothing that we can't handle, I'm sure." Molly grinned and went to place their orders, while she turned to look at pop singer beside her. "Hey, I've got a question for you. Do you think we've done enough work for the day? I think it's time to use our punch cards and bail. What do you think?" she asked, leaning on her elbow, with a devilish smile.
He met her grin and ran a hand over his wet hair. She giggled at the disorder it was in. "I think so, but...and I don't mean to disappoint your impromptu break, we still do have a little work."
The look on her face was pure puzzlement before she snapped her fingers. "That's right, we have to sing yet. There's just one problem." He looked at her, waiting to hear some lame excuse of why she didn't want to. "I don't have my guitar with me. It's at home, but if you wouldn't mind coming for a little ride and keeping me company, I would be more than happy to sing with you."
"You need to have your guitar?" he asked. "What is it, superstition or something?"
She shook her head, her wet hair hitting her in the face. It amazed him at how wet her hair was from that little run, but his hair, and clothes were just as wet. "Nothing like that. It's just...if I don't have my guitar, and I'm not in front of a camera, then I don't like to sing. I don't know what it is, but I really don't want to see a microphone this early in the planning stages. So, if you wouldn't mind running home with me, I'd have no problem, whatsoever."
He nodded reluctantly. "I suppose." Molly smiled, putting the plates in front of them. Brooklyn sighed happily at the sight of the french toast with confectioner's sugar sprinkled on top. "Question, though: won't your boyfriend be upset if I come over to your place? I mean, he's jealous as it is," he teased, pushing her with his elbow.
She turned to look at him as she poured the smallest amount of syrup atop of her food, and stuck out her tongue. "You know what I say? Screw 'em."
He grinned as the door shut behind him, and he reached over his shoulder to reach for the seatbelt. "It's cute," he said. "Old, but cute."
Brooklyn turned with a look of shock. "Don't call my baby old. She'll get mad. Honestly, I don't want to buy a new vehicle and I still don't. This thing serves me better than a convertible ever would, and with a truck, I can't haul a lot of people around, though I always meant to put seats with belts in the back. It would be kind of cool, I think."
"Only if the weather's nice," he said, as she started the engine and started to pull out watching carefully. "If you drive like you cross the street, I may want to get out."
She looked over at him quickly and shook her head. "In weather like this? I obey rules that haven't even been created yet. I admit to being a little crazy when it's a nice day, but nothing too dangerous. This is a little...intense," she said, almost thoughtfully, before turning on the radio. "Hope you don't mind, but I want to get the road reports," she said, starting out slowly, thanking the man above that she had remembered to buy new mud, snow, and rain tires for the truck. "Do me a favor?" He nodded quickly, watching as her hands slid over the steering wheel carefully, turning the truck around a corner. "Talk to me. Keep me distracted until I hear the damned report. Probably won't come on for about twenty minutes, anyway," she mumbled, rolling her eyes.
A flash of lightning appeared in the sky and she sighed. "Is it safe to be in a vehicle during a thunderstorm?" he asked, looking out the side window.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's the safest place to be. The tires stop the electricity from getting anywhere close to you. Gotta love that," she said with a chuckle, stopping at a red light. "They're never green for me. I swear, the God of traffic hates me."
He chuckled, his eyes looking around carefully. No one seemed to be walking on the streets anymore, and there were large groups of people crammed under bus shelters. Everyone seemed to be heading home because of the storm. "Nah, he just hates your driving." Since it was a red light, it gave her the opportunity to look over at him with a half shocked expression. "Never mind," he added with a devilish smile. She learned, earlier that morning, that he seemed to have many different versions of grins, all of them complimentary to him. She shook her head when she saw where her thoughts were headed and forced a smile on her face. "So, where do you live, anyway?" he asked.
"Belleview. Just outside of Nashville. It isn't that long of a drive, but in weather like this...I need to get off this topic. Umm...what's your favorite game show? If you say Millionaire, I'll kill you," she added quickly with a bright grin.
JC couldn't help chuckling. Brooklyn was a person that seemed to be in control of every situation that she was in. If she didn't want to hear something...well, he wasn't about to try her. "Okay, since I can't say that word, I'd have to say The Price Is Right."
She cheered, pumping one fist in the air. "Wicked. How can you not love Bob Barker? He makes me want to go out and neuter all the little puppies I see. Not personally, of course."
"Why is Millionaire such a bad topic for you?" he asked, watching carefully as she turned a tight corner, heading out of Nashville. The road they were on was practically deserted, which was much more to Brooklyn's fancy. Less vehicles meant less chance of an accident.
She grinned to herself, and started down the straight road, stepping on the gas slightly, but not letting the needle shoot up like she normally did. One eye was kept on the speedometer and the other stayed on the road. "Please. I am so sick of Regis asking if that's my final answer. I love the guy to death. He's been nothing but a sweetheart to me when I was on Live, but Millionaire? Some really stupid people et up there, and it's not pretty." She paused and cocked her head slightly. "Besides, people say what they think it is, and then use their fifty fifty. If that's not the stupidest thing in the world...of course they're going to keep your answer in there. Then, you pick it, because it's still there, and nine times out of ten, you're wrong." She shook her head, as if she was disappointed, and spied the next turn coming up. It was a small one, but one that kept her on edge, nonetheless. The particular corner was known as suicide corner, and that was the last thin she wanted to commit at the point.
A ringing interrupted the cab of the truck. "That would be yours," she said, looking ahead. She snickered when he pulled out the phone and started talking in a hushed tone. Rolling her eyes, she bit her lip as she sped up a little more. There was a good thirty minutes until she got back home, fifteen in normal weather.
He reached over and jabbed him, pointing to the glove compartment box. He opened it without thinking twice, and looked as she pointed to the chocolate bar sitting beside a map of Tennessee, tire gauge, and a small bottle of Tums. He pulled it out and was about to hand it to her when she shook her head. Catching on to what she was trying to tell him, he pulled off the wrapper after closing the glove compartment and unwrapped the old wrapper as he tucked the phone on his shoulder. "Yeah, I get that. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be out here." He paused and broke it into pieces, stealing one for himself. Her hand shot out and took a piece, stuffing it in her mouth. "No, I'm not at the hotel room. I'm going to her house." Now, Brooklyn couldn't hold back the laughter as she reached for another piece. "Her who? Brooklyn Turner, idiot. Who else?"
"The whore on the corner, actually," she shouted out, still laughing. He chuckled and took another piece of chocolate.
"No, you can't talk to her. She's-" he broke off when she pulled the phone out of his hand and held it up to her head. "Well, thank you for asking."
She stuck her tongue out and smiled. "Hello, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" she asked, in her slight Southern accent. When she got the answer, she grinned brightly. "Hey there, Lance. You wouldn't happen to be from Tennessee with an accent like that, would you?"
She could hear the grin in his voice when he answered. "Nope, afraid not. I'm from Mississippi."
"Hey, we're neighbors, then. So, I'll be a neighborly person and ask you straight out why you wanted to talk to me." She nodded a few times as he answered. "You don't believe me. Well, I could understand that, of course. How could I prove it to you?" She snapped her fingers, really getting into her role before she began to sin a few bars of one of her songs. When she was done, and he started stuttering, she handed back the phone. "Tell your friend that he needs to o to a speech therapist. That stutter is not becoming of him." She giggled and shook her head as she took the last piece of chocolate, turning up the radio a bit when JC finally hung up. "There would be our weather report."
JC turned to look at the radio, as if it were a television set. "Hello, all you wet people out in Nashville and surrounding areas. You obviously know about the thunderstorm by now, and here's a good piece of news for you. It should last through the night. Dig out those candles and flashlights. The storm should be over by tomorrow so all you people that rushed away from work will have to show up tomorrow." She made a face and turned the corner, smiling at the sign that welcomed her to Belleview again. "As for the roads, they're completely clear. We haven't had one report of an accident yet, but traffic is moving slowly, especially on those roads heading out of Nashville, and there's plenty of them. Roads and weather together in another twenty minutes, but for now, we decided to dig down into the stack of older CD's and pull out a classic. I'm sure that everyone has heard that Brooklyn Turner is supposedly back in the studio, planning and recording her new CD. All I can say is that I can't wait for it to come out. I've heard that she's supposed to be lining up some big stars for it, and I'm hoping that it's another Garth Brooks/Brooklyn Turner duet. They were terrific the first time. For now, you'll all have to settle with 'Never Been Kissed' from 1995. Here y'all go." Brooklyn hurried to turn off the radio.
"They would play that song, wouldn't they?" she asked herself, turning the corner to her very familiar street. "Home sweet home."
JC looked over at her. "Why'd you shut that off? I wanted to hear it." He made a pathetic looking face as she pulled into her driveway, looking around for Tim's car. She almost gave out a shout of happiness when she saw that it wasn't there, but at the same time, she felt guilty for thinking that.
"If you ever want to hear me sin, that is not one that you want to hear. Believe me, it's a horrible song, but it was the trend back then, and I was forced to go along with it. Thank God that I have some say about my image now." She shook her head and turned off the engine, pulling the key out of the ignition. "Let's go," she said with a smile, opening her door.
They both took deep breaths before climbing out and slamming the doors shut, running to her porch. They stepped underneath and shook the rain off of them. Brooklyn opened the door and let them in, pulling off her cowboy boots and leaving them in the foyer. "Wow, you're soaked. Do you want something to change into? I could have that stuff dried by the time I need to get you back," she said, gesturing to his clothes as she dropped her bag.
He shook his head at first. "Nah, it's..." he trailed off when his teeth chattered a few times. "Actually, if you wouldn't mind." She chuckled and led him up the stairs to her bedroom.
"I know I have some stuff that'll fit you," she said, heading towards her closet. The doors were flung open, and she looked through quickly, pulling out a pair of track pants that were miles too big on her, but she wore them anyway. She added one of her large hooded sweatshirts with it, and showed him the bathroom. "There you go. I'm pretty sure it'll fit. Those are all huge on me, but I keep them around for when I'm sick." She smiled brightly as she closed the door behind him and shed her blouse on the floor, taking out a sweatshirt to pull over her head. Her jeans were slightly damp, so she changed into another pair, picking up her clothes and tossing them on the bed beside her as she waited for him.
The door opened and he walked out, holding his wet clothes. "How do these stay on you without falling off?" he asked, gesturing to the pants he was wearing. She was right, they did fit perfectly.
The smile reappeared on her face as she reached for his wet clothes and they headed back downstairs. "There's a wonderful invention known as a drawstring and folding the top over a few times. I love those things, so you better believe that you're not stealing them." She stopped him in the kitchen. "Why don't you do me a favor? While I start these, why don't you start a pot of tea. The kettle is right under the sink, and you can plug it in anywhere." She disappeared into her laundry room and tossed the clothes into the drier, reaching her hand up blindly to take a fabric sheet down.
She smelled it before she tossed it in, smiling to herself. It was the same smell that she had associated with her childhood, every time she got dressed in the morning. With a smile of remembrance, she started the drier and went back into the kitchen, heading immediately to the cupboard to look at what teas she had. "Okay, what kind do you want?" she asked, pulling down all the boxes and putting them on the counter.
JC looked down at them with a seriousness that she almost found funny. He examined each flavor carefully. "Honey lemon'll be fine." She nodded and tossed the rest of the boxes in the cupboard, making sure to close it. She had bumped her head too many times when she forgot to close them. That was the last thing she needed that day. "I was going to ask you, what's up with the mobile home in the backyard?" he asked, pointing to it.
Brooklyn went to unplug the whistling kettle and pulled down two mugs, pouring the water into them. She added the tea bags as she spoke. "I grew up in it. From when I was brought home to when I was eighteen. When my parents died, Austin and I couldn't let it go, so I bought it and keep it back there. Every now and then I spend a night in it but only in the summer. There's no heat in there, nothing connected. It's a showpiece, I guess. Come on."
She led him into what she called the music room, where she kept her guitar, CD player, and a few other things. She sat down on the couch and placed her mug on the table. "Nice setup," he said, looking around as he sipped his tea.
She smiled with pride. "Yeah, this is my favorite room. You know, you should feel very privileged. Not only do I take you to the diner, but I also let you in my music room. My boyfriend has only come in here once and I bit his head off for it. Only Joe has been in here. There must be something about you," she said, shaking her head with a smile. She reached over and picked up a guitar from beside the couch and placed it in her lap, plucking at the strings to tune it.
JC continued looking around, finally ending on her piano. "Do you play the piano, too?" he asked, sitting down on the bench, putting his mug on the mantel above the fireplace. His fingers skidded over the smooth keys, listening as she continued to tune the guitar.
"Not all that well. I can play a little, but I'm sure that you're far better than I am. I think I'll stick to my guitar, thank you very much." She reached for her mug when she finished and took a deep sip. "Damn, that tastes good. So, play something for me, maestro."
He grinned at her, before looking back down at the keys. She sat forward, sipping her tea, as he began to play. She cocked her head and listened to the melody that he was playing. She thought that she had heard it before, but wasn't too sure. Without even thinking, she placed the mug back down, and picked up the guitar, settling it on her lap once more. She listened to the melody for another thirty seconds before she strummed along to the music, trying to pick out the notes. It didn't end up to be too difficult, and she couldn't help the smile that was breaking upon her face. When he stopped, she put down her pick and grinned. "How would you like to quit singing and come on as one of my musicians?" she teased, sitting back on the couch.
"Nah, I'm happy where I am. Should we get started?"
"Okay, that was fun," she said, sitting down on the couch in the living room. JC relaxed in the armchair across from her, sitting closer to the fire than she saw. A blanket was wrapped around her legs as she leaned back. "So, what do you think?" she asked, curling up her feet underneath her.
JC was about to answer, when the lights flickered before going out. Brooklyn let out a frustrated sigh and reached for the packet of matches beside her blindly. Her hand groped them and she lit one easily, looking for the candles she had set out before they relaxed. She touched the tip of the match to one waxy wick, watching as it lit, the flame growing stronger by itself. "You know, we should have expected this, from what was on the radio."
She shook her head as she blew out the match and reached for another in the pack. "Nah, I never trust that station when it comes to warnings. They've been wrong more often than they've been right." She paused as she lit the rest of the candles beside her. The fire provided some light and warmth, but the candles provided more at the time. "Never thought that they would actually get something right. Freaks me right out." She sighed and put the matches back down. "Now, you were going to tell me something?" she asked, settling back on the couch.
He chuckled. "It amazes me how nothing ever fazes you." He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, you and I can definitely pull this off. We sound pretty good together."
"You're incredibly honest."
He smirked and leaned back further into the chair. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, out of the songs, I kind of liked the last one that we did. You may have other thoughts, but I like it. If you decide to use that one, I suppose that you'll play the guitar." She nodded quickly, brushing back her hair with one hand. "If you don't mind, I would like to play the piano for it. Unless you had one of your musicians in mind for it."
"Nope, I was hoping that you would say exactly what you said. Yes, I like that song, and I would love to sing it with you. Yes, I will be playing the guitar. Yes, you can play the piano. We're good. We're definitely good." She grinned brightly and stretched, clearing her throat. "Joe is going to be so happy to hear this. Usually, it takes forever for the other person to pick out a song, and everyone to work out the details. I can't believe how fast this is happening."
She stopped when the phone beside her ran. She picked it up, wondering why the phone lines weren't down, either. "Hello, Turner residence," she said with a faint smile.
"Brooklyn, are you all right? The power's out over here." She took in a deep breath, wondering how this phone call was going to end. She knew that Tim didn't approve of the fact that she was working with a male that he knew nothing about, but he would absolutely blow his top if he heard that JC was in her house at the moment. More importantly, he would freak out if he heard that JC was in her music room, when he wasn't allowed to be in there.
She let out the breath she was holding. "Yes, I'm fine. The power's out everywhere. Not only that, but it's Brooke, not Brooklyn."
Her teeth were grinding together, but she couldn't help herself. There was something in his tone that was giving her a bad feeling. "Forgive me for being concerned, Brooklyn. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right."
The woman in question rolled her dark green eyes quickly, her gaze heading over to JC. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Brooke. It's Brooke, and I'm not trying to sound unappreciative. You have the best intentions at heart, I'm sure. There's nothing wrong here, and I'll be fine for the night."
He sighed on the other end. "Do you want me to come over there and stay with you? I know how freaked you can be in the storms."
A frown spread across her face, while her eyebrows raised slowly. "Sorry, Tim, but you can't see how high my eyebrows are at this point. You don't need to come over here, because I've never been scared of storms. You must be thinking of someone else," she said slowly, her mind racing for an answer to his comment.
"I swear that it's you that's scared of storms."
Brooklyn cleared her throat, something that she seemed to be doing a lot of since she and JC had finished their little practice. "No, I'm the one that sits outside when we have a storm so that I can watch the lightning and listen to the thunder. Not even when I was a kid was I scared of storms. Maybe you're thinking of yourself," she added with a little laugh.
"That's not funny, Brooklyn. Are you sure that you don't want me to come over there?" he pressed. She wanted to strangle him at this point. It wasn't so much the fact that JC was there. She wanted Tim to meet him, she was just waiting until he got over his little anger trip about her career. She figured that it would be no fun for JC or herself to sit there and listen to him rant.
"I thought it was funny. I'm positive. I'll be sure to...hello?" she asked, before pulling the phone away. "I think the phones just went out," she said to herself before hanging up. "Either that, or I said something wrong. Oh well," she said with a shrug. Both of them fell into their thoughts for a moment. Brooklyn was still trying to figure out why Tim would even think that she was afraid of storms. She loved them, when she was at home. Some of her earliest childhood memories were of her sitting on her father's lap, watching the storm. It had to be his sister that was afraid of storms, she thought. Either his sister or his mother. Suddenly, her thoughts did a complete turn as she turned to look at JC. "Oh, hey. Did you want to head back any time soon, or are you just going to spend the night?" she asked.
From his look, she had startled him out of whatever he was thinking. "What? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening."
She grinned in spite of herself. "I was just asking if you wanted to head back or if you wanted to spend the night," she repeated, chuckling to herself.
He looked over at her before looking out the window. As if to fill the silence, a rumble of thunder came through the air, almost seeming to shake the ground. "Can you even drive in weather like this?" he asked, gesturing to the window.
She followed his gaze and winced when lightning illuminated the room. "Well, I don't know. I've never driven when the weather's like this, but I probably could. I think. Well, I could give it the old college try, I suppose." Another grin broke her face as she sunk deeper into the couch.
"If it doesn't put you out, I wouldn't mind staying. I don't really like the idea of heading out in weather like that. Besides, you look quite comfortable." His blue eyes turned towards the fire, watching the flames dance. "Not only that, but it probably isn't that safe."
Nodding, she sat up a little. "The road would practically be a river at this point. They'd probably block it off, anyway, and by the time I got you in town, I would have to spend the night, because it would be closed by then. If I have a choice between home and a hotel, I would more than definitely pick home." Brooklyn stood up, tossing the blanket back onto the couch. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and thanking God that I have a gas stove. Want something to eat?" she asked.
He followed her into the kitchen, carrying one of the candles with him, as she did. "Sure, I guess. You're not about to cook anything fancy, are you?"
"Try to impress you? Yeah, right. I'm lucky that I can make Kraft Dinner. I was hoping that you would be fine with some soup and sandwiches or something like that." She turned towards him with a proud smile. "I can actually toast break without burning it...sometimes," she added in a little voice as he started to laugh. "It's not funny, because I was telling the truth." She opened the cupboards ad pulled herself up on the counter to look on the top shelves.
He shook his head, watching her carefully. "Brooke, you're going to lose your balance up there." He could almost envision her falling from her perch to the ground, something that he didn't want to be responsible for that. The thought seemed wrong to him, when in reality, he honestly didn't want her to fall.
She turned her head to look over at him, smiling. "I'm not going to fall, JC. Don't worry, I do this all the time." Her hand reached up when she turned back around to grab at something on the top shelf, and her fingers just brushed it as she felt herself slipping backwards. She didn't have the chance to stop herself by hooking her knees in harder than she was already. Her fingers tried to grasp the lip of the counter, but she missed it.
JC had seen it coming from the beginning and slipped off the counter, just as she had begun to teeter. She hadn't fallen all that much from where she had been when his arms wrapped around her waist and held her up. She started to laugh, despite the fact that she had been frightened, when she noticed that her legs were stretched out, and her bare feet were still on the counter. In fact, she looked like she had been lying on the couch or a bed. Her laughter was contagious, and as he was holding her, he began to laugh along with her. "I told you," she said in between his chuckles, and she leaned further back against him, laughing harder.
"I wish that someone had a camera, because this would look quite funny," she added, trying to breathe deeply the same time that she was laughing. It caused an almost bubbled sound to come from her, causing JC to laugh even harder.
Once they calmed down a little, and Brooklyn was just letting out a few giggles every now and then, he bent his head down to look at her. "Break anything?" he asked.
"Only my pride," she said with a smile, completing the almost famous line. "Now, I have a very important question. How the hell am I supposed to get down?" she asked.
His eyes twinkled at her, causing her smile to turn into a grin. "You know, I'm really wishing that someone did have a camera. Do you think we can do this again, if you have a video camera in here somewhere?" he asked. "Why don't you try taking down your feet, one at a time, please, Brooke."
She rolled her eye as she looked up at him, relaxing as he tightened his hold slightly to keep her from slipping further. "If I do that, I'm going to end up on my ass, anyway. That won't work."
"I've got an idea," he said, trying not to laugh. "Take your feet down, one at a time, and I'll pull you back at the same time."
Brooklyn shook her head at first. "You know, I have a bad feeling about this, but I can tell that you believe in your little idea, so who am I to tell you differently, right? Let's do it, but don't say I didn't warn you." She sighed as he began to pull her backwards very slowly, and she lifted her foot. She started laughing again when she saw the positions the two of them ended up in.
She was still in his arms, though he was now sitting on the ground. She was in his lap, but her feet were still on the counter. She leaned back, giggling fiercely. "Okay, maybe you were right. It didn't work."
"I'm just going to pull them down. I'm sure I can now," she added, bending her knees and bringing down her feet. She didn't expect the bottom of her jeans to slide across the counter so easily, and they ended up falling faster than she thought they would. The force, and her trying not to slam her heels into the ground, caused her to fall backwards against his chest, knocking him over at the same time. "I'm starting to think that we needed a camera. This is just too funny," she added before laughing. All of a sudden, she snorted and hurried to cover her mouth with her hand. JC laughed harder at that, and laid his head down on the round.
His voice was still breaking as he tried to speak through his laughter. "Did...did you just...just snort?" he asked.
She laughed harder, trying not to let herself snort again. "I haven't done that in years. I thought I trained myself to stop that." Her stomach was raising with her laughter, where JC's arms still were. The motion caused him to laugh harder, which in turn caused him to go into a full body shake. Brooklyn began to laugh harder until tears were rolling down her face. "One more for good measure," she said, snorting again.
"You...you..." He couldn't help himself, and laughed harder than she had ever heard. By accident, he let out a snort, just as Brooklyn had calmed herself down. She started up again and disentangled herself from him, sitting up against the counters. "We could have won the big prize if America's Funniest Home Videos was still on," he said, watching as she wiped the tears away from her face.
The proud smile appeared on her face again. "Aren't we just the best, and it wasn't even that funny to begin with." She shook her head and brushed back her messed hair. "Would you mind reaching for the box up on the top shelf, because I don't think I'm going to do any counter climbing anytime soon."
"Well, if I catch a lady from falling, the least I can do is reach for the box of Lipton's soup." He bent down first and offered her a hand when he was standing, pulling her up. He reached up, and grasped the chicken noodle soup box, passing it to her. "Are you sure that you don't want me to make this? I'm afraid that you'll burn yourself."
She smirked and walked over to the stove, reaching into another cupboard to find a pot. "Please close the cupboard. I'll end up hitting my head." She pulled out the pot, and read the directions on the box in the faint light she had from the candle. "I'm not usually such a klutz." He looked at her like she was crazy as she filled the pot with the right amount of water from the tap. "Oh, don't give me that look, Mr. Silence. I really am not a big klutz. I never do anything like that."
"Uh huh."
Brooklyn started the stove, and turned to look at him. "No, honestly, you're very quiet. I would think that you would be a little more outspoken. I don't know about you, but usually, even with a microphone, I have to practically scream for people to hear me in my concerts."
"Yeah, same here." She continued to look at him. "Is there a law that says I can't be quiet or something?" he asked.
She shook her head from side to side very slowly. "Not in my house. Here, I've got an idea," she said, walking over to the battery powered tape player she kept on the counter. She picked out a tape at random and put it in the machine, rewinding it.
JC watched her carefully as she played with the volume control before starting the tape. The machine let out a high, hissing sound as she pressed play and pulled him out to the center of the room. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"You're going to dance with me, and you're going to scream, too. You have to. I won't work with you until you scream."
He looked at her dubiously as the tape started. "Who is this?" he asked, as the sound of a crowd cheering filled the room. Very slowly, a melody began, and he strained to hear it.
"Garth Brooks, Double Live. In case you're wondering, the song is Tearin' It Up and Burnin' It Down. It's one of his classics. Everyone loves it," she said, grinning as she forced him to swing her around. "Now, are you going to scream with everyone else on the tape or do I have to kick you to make it happen?" she asked.
He groaned and spun her anyway, stopping her for a moment. "You know, you're not as cute as you think."
"Oh, yes I am. In fact, I'm cuter."
Brooklyn raised her head, groaning. "Oh, shut up," she growled to her alarm clock, wishing that she had a hammer with her. She hit it a few times, listening with satisfaction as it quieted itself. "Can't I just call in sick for once?" she asked herself before throwing the covers off. She went through her usual preparations in the morning, and stepped out of the shower, looking at her watch. Rolling her eyes, she reached for the robe she brought in with her and tied it tightly around her small waist. "He better be up, or I'll be kicking some ass this morning," she rumbled, opening the door to her room and walking out in the hallway. She walked down to the spare room and knocked on the door. "Oh, you can't be serious," she added, rolling her eyes.
She pounded on the door again, listening to find out if JC had woken up yet or not. "Oh, would you just wake up already?" she asked in a louder voice. "I hope you don't mind," she added in a small voice as she took a deep breath. She opened the door and slipped in, looking towards the bed.
A large lump underneath the covers told her that she was right. She stood there, her wet hair hitting her shoulders, her hands on her hips, watching as the bundle moved up and down with his breathing...if he was even alive under there. In the mood she was in this morning, she could care less.
The duo hadn't gotten that much sleep that night. Rather than head to bed early, since they had to be back at the studio, and JC had to see how much time he still had off, they had stayed up late, talking and drinking more than their fair share of tea. The results of the night was one very tired and moody Brooklyn, and an unconscious JC.
She shook her head before her foot shot out, nudging the pile of blankets. She didn't think that he could even feel it through the mass of material. Brooklyn was sure that he didn't, since he didn't even flinch. This time, she pushed him harder. He made some sort of noise, but he still didn't wake up. "If I need to go get a pitcher of ice water, so help me God, I'll do it," she muttered, leaning over and pushing him with her hands. He groaned and rolled over, still caught in his little cocoon of blankets. "Hmm...what was that trick that Austin used on me before?" she asked herself, standing back.
When the idea came to her, she was grinning brightly. Her bad mood was forgotten when she thought of what she was going to do to the poor sleeping man in her guest room. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before walking into the hallway, cupping her hands around her mouth. "FIRE!" she shouted as loud as she could.
From what she could see, he fell on the ground with a loud bump, causing her to wince. It was the same fall that she had taken so many years ago when her brother pulled the same trick on her. "FIRE!" she shouted again, just to make her point. He scrambled to get free of the blankets, and Brooklyn couldn't resist leaning against the doorframe with a smile. "Good morning, sunshine," she said when he looked at her from the floor.
"That was not funny, Brooklyn," he said in a warning tone when he saw her shoulders moving rapidly with her suppressed laughter. "You could have just shaken me to wake me up, you know." He picked himself up off the round and straightened the clothes that he was wearing of hers.
Her mouth dropped open. "Hello. I tried that already. I kicked you twice, almost pushed you off the bed. This was my only choice. Blame my brother for teaching me the trick." She glanced down at her watch, her mood all of disappeared by now. "You have enough time for a shower and I should have some sort of breakfast ready by then. Your clothes are right there," she said, pointing to where she had put them the night before. "I'll be in my room if you need anything," she said with a bright smile before walking away. "And my name is Brooke!" she shouted back with laughter as she walked into her room.
"Payback is hell, Brooke. Remember that," he warned her.
She shook her head at the comment and went to her closet, looking through her mass of clothes. She picked out a pair of jeans at random, which seemed to be her favorite article of clothing, and reached for a thick sweater from the back. The air was cool, and was supposed to stay the same way for the entire day. Just to be careful, she threw a tank top into the pile and carried the clothes into her bathroom, changing quickly. While in there, she pulled her brush through her hair, letting the strands dry by themselves this morning. She walked out, looking through the items in her room.
Picking up a few random pieces of paper, she shoved them into her pockets and purse, stringing it over her shoulder as she went downstairs. The sound of the shower running from beside the guest room filled the house as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped it, looking blankly at the wall. Her mind was racing with melodies and variations on the sons she had to choose from, wondering which ones would make a good album when she reached over, opening a bag of bagels. She cut one in half without even thinking about what she was doing, and stuck it in the toaster, pushing down the little lever.
She was still standing there, thinking, as she blindly chewed her buttered bagel, when JC walked in the room, his damp hair being pushed back by his hand. "Morning. Do you have any coffee?" he asked.
She pointed to the coffee maker and moved away so that he could get to it. She leaned against the opposite counter, sipping her coffee now as she brushed her hands together after the last bite of her breakfast. "There's cereal above your head, bagels beside you...take your pick." Her voice was very thoughtful as she moved next to him and poured a second cup, something that she rarely did. The sound of the door opening didn't even break into her thoughts until she heard the footsteps fall silent in the kitchen.
Turning to look at who it was (and knowing the entire time, since only two people had keys to her house), she smiled brightly. "Hey, Tim. What's up?" she asked, moving away to look through the fridge. Her eyes scoured over what was there and shut the door in satisfaction, lad that she didn't have to go grocery shopping.
"Brooke, toss me the milk, would you?" JC asked, his voice still laced with sleep. Tim still hadn't spoken a word. She caught a glance of his face when she passed the carton to JC, and almost groaned. This was not going to be a good morning. "Thanks," he said absently, waiting for his bagel to pop out of the toaster. He passed it back to her, as she put it back in the fridge.
"So, what's up?" she asked again, looking at her boyfriend of two years.
His arms crossed against his chest defiantly, and Brooklyn raised her eyebrow, telling him not to start anything. He seemed to get the message, but kept the same stance as she walked over next to him and pulled herself up on the counter. "Nothing. I just wanted to check up on you before you headed to the studio, I suppose."
The small laugh couldn't be stopped from her. "Where do I spend every day since I've been home?" she asked in a teasing tone, but the smile on her face fell when she noticed that he didn't chuckle. He didn't find anything she said funny, though JC chuckled softly to himself as he spread butter of his breakfast. "Yeah, I have to be there," she began in a quiet voice, "because we have to meet with Joe this morning. We have a couple of ideas that we want to shoot around." She smiled brightly at him, but he didn't return it. Letting out a short breath, she smiled when JC turned around. When she smiled at him, at least he returned it. "I just realized that you two haven't been introduced yet. Tim, this is JC Chasez, the artist that I'm going to be working with. JC, this is Tim Croft."
She bit her lip when the two of them shook hands. "Nice to meet you. You're Brooke's boyfriend, right?" he asked pleasantly. He didn't catch the look that Tim had on his face, or if he did, he chose to ignore it.
He nodded briskly. "Yes, I am. Out of curiosity, have I heard of you before?" he asked bluntly, leaning against the side of the counter that Brooklyn was sitting on. She groaned when she noticed the obvious possessiveness that was radiating from him, but just smiled when both men looked over at her questioningly.
JC lowered the mug from his mouth and smiled brightly. "Maybe, but most likely if you have a sister. I'm one of the members of NSYNC," he said, without a hint of proudness or arrogance. Brooklyn liked him even more at that point.
"Oh, right. I always get you and the other group confused." He turned to look at the woman, who was looking down into the depths of her coffee. "Brooklyn, are you going to be home for dinner, or am I eating alone again?" he asked.
She raised her head to look at him, her eyebrows raising very slightly. It was almost a challenge to call her on what she was about to say. "Actually, I'm going to be at the studio for quite awhile today, so I think I'm just going to snag JC for a dinner at the diner tonight. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, biting the inside of her mouth. She knew it was stupid to add the extra sarcastic comment, but she couldn't help herself. They just slipped out, as if she was talking to someone who understood most of what she said. Tim wasn't one of those people.
"If you two have plans, I can always pass, Brooke." She turned to him and smiled, shaking her head. He understood immediately what she was trying to tell him. She wanted to be delayed that night, for some reason he couldn't fathom. She didn't want to have dinner with her boyfriend that night, and JC understood the look plain as day.
Tim picked up her wrist and looked at her watch. "You know, you better get going if you don't want to be late. Call me later tonight, all right?" he asked, placing a kiss on her hand before walking out. She rolled her eyes and waited for the front door to close.
"Well, he's right about one thing. We do need to head out. I am definitely not calling tonight, though," she said with a laugh as she put down her coffee cup. "Are you ready?"
He shrugged and followed her to the door. She bent down and pulled on her usual cowboy boots, throwing her purse over her shoulder. "Can I ask you one thing?" She nodded as she opened the door and locked it behind them. "Why don't you want to have dinner with him? I know, I'm prying into your life, and I don't know you all that well, but he is your boyfriend."
She smiled as she unlocked the doors to the truck and slid in. Once they were both settled comfortably, she looked over at him. "You have to understand something. Tim is incredibly jealous. He knows that you spent the night at my house, he knows that you used my shower, he knows that you were with my all of yesterday, and it makes him mad. All he needs is a little time to cool off before I can talk to him like a normal person. Otherwise, it'll evolve into a shouting match."
The key was pushed into the ignition, and started the engine. "I thought he was a little...cold this morning," he said, as she pulled out of the driveway.
"No more than usual. I can't believe that he still calls me Brooklyn. Even you've learned to call me Brooke, not that I like that all that much," she added, with a wry smile. When she was the questioning look on his face, she hurried to answer. "I admit, it's a cool name, but I'm also getting kind of sick of Brooke. Everyone calls me that, they've called me that for years. It's like no one else can come up with a nickname for me."
He grinned suddenly as she headed out of the small town. "You mean, no one's used the obvious yet?" he asked. She looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "New York. You'd think that it would be the most obvious nickname."
Brooklyn nodded slowly. "I guess. Wow, maybe I just don't make smart friends," she said thoughtfully before chuckling. "The problem with such an old nickname is convincing other people that you don't want to be called that anymore. I guess I'm just tuck with Brooke."
Joe looked up from his papers when the two walked in, laughing at something. He cleared his throat and smiled. "Brooke, Tim called already. I told him that you died."
"Gee, thanks. It's nice to know how much you care about me," she said with a sarcastic smile, dropping in her chair. "Aren't you looking chipper today. That smile is really starting to bug me." They stared at each other for a moment before she rolled her eyes. "A happy Joseph is not something that I was to see in the morning."
He grinned as JC sat down and opened up Brooklyn's file folder. He pulled out some of the papers they had been talking about yesterday, and began to look through them carefully, making sure that they were in order. "I heard that you had an interesting night. Tim didn't sound too happy about it."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes again. "I see that the Curb rumor mill is in full operation this morning. Is there anything else interesting that I should know, or was I the only subject du jour?" she asked. He nodded happily, and she grinned. "Wow, I feel special. It's been a few years since I've been the most talked about thing here. Don't I get a plaque or something?"
"Cute. Very cute. Now, can we get to work? We still have to pick the songs, the musicians...you seem to forget how hard it is to do this, Brooke." She grinned at his comment and motioned for JC to speak.
"Actually, all that's done. Not all of it, but some of it. We picked out a song...right here," he said, handing the piece of paper over to him. "I know that New York wants to play the guitar, which probably doesn't surprise you, and I'm going to take the piano arrangement. Other than that, we just need the normal musicians for the song, and that should be it."
She smiled at the nickname, since he had taken to calling her that. Joe looked over at her, amused. "Yeah, yeah, new nickname. Calm yourself. Now, I don't want to use backup singers. I don't think it would sound right, and JC agrees. A string arrangement might be nice, and before you say anything, no." She grinned and pulled her glasses out of her bag, opening the folder that Joe passed her.
"Okay, then. Pick out your musicians, and before you say anything, yes."
Brooklyn shook her head. "No, I don't want to. Besides, if I do this during a concert, I can't exactly play both instruments at once." He looked over at JC, who looked more confused than ever by the two of them. "I also play the violin and he keeps begging me to play it for a track, but I manage to get out of it every time. Something tells me, I won't be able to this time." She sighed and looked over the sheet. "The normals are who I want. Mike, Brad, Laurie, Cindy, and Andy. I'm going to need to have a list of who can play strings. Violins, fiddles, and all that." She paused and closed the folder as Joe made some notes. "I love being so organized," she said, chuckling to herself.
Joe picked up the song and looked over it again. "I know how persuasive Brooke can be, so did you have any say in this, or are you just following her?" she asked.
JC quickly shook his head. "I picked out the song, she agreed. That's all." He looked very disbelieving, and both of the younger people laughed. "I swear. She hasn't done anything that I haven't suggested first, really."
"I'm being nice. I like him." She shrugged and reached for the water bottle in front of Joe. "When do you head into the studio, and when do you have time off to do this?" she asked, turning towards JC.
"I have to call my manager or one of the guys and find out."
She grinned, leaning back in her chair. Since they had left Belleview, he had noticed that there was a smile on her face the entire time. "Call Lance, please. I need to talk to my neighbor. Don't even try to understand, Joe, because you can't. Please, call him."
He shook his head. "I would never want to see the two of you together. It would be completely terrifying." She smirked as he pulled out his phone and dialed, handing it to her. He smile appeared on her face again.
"Well, hello there, neighbor. What's up?" she asked, her slight accent taking on a little bit of a drawl.
Lance chuckled on the other end. "Nice to talk to you again, Brooklyn. What's going on over there?" he asked.
Noting that she had the chance to have some fun, an evil grin spread on her face. Joe could just see the little horns growing out of her honey brown hair. "Well, actually, I've been having a little fun over here. See, we were just hit with a storm last night, and J spent the night over at my house. Now, before you freak out, let me just tell you that he's alive, fine, and well, although he is chained in my basement, shirtless, and...damn, stop me now." She sighed and fanned herself. "Well, that was what I was planning to do."
"Sounds interesting. I'm starting to think that I should jump a plane and come visit you. Your basement sound fully equipped."
She chuckled at the sound of his deep voice, and ran one hand through her hair. "I know that you would rather talk to me than JC, so I might as well ask you. How much more time does he have off? We want to push the recording, if at all possible. That way we'll take as little time as possible, and you can have him back in full working order soon enough."
Brooklyn could almost see him shaking his head as he chuckled. "He's got about another week off, but then he has to come back. Is that enough time for you guys to finish?"
She let out a deep breath. "Oh, that's no problem at all. The basic instrumental will be done tomorrow, we can start recording the next day, if everything goes right, and after we get his little piano bit, he'll be rushing into your open arms, like the two little...wow, I'm not going there. So, how has your vacation time been?" she asked pleasantly, noticing JC's look. "Oh, would you stop it. I'm having a conversation here. Really, JC. Now, you were going to say?"
"Not bad. A lot more relaxing than touring was. What about you? I heard that this was supposed to be your vacation."
"Vacation? There is no such word in my vocabulary. Wait, correction. In my manager's vocabulary. I haven't actually had a week long vacation in three years, I think. I'm always in the studio or touring. Too bad you'd be on tour when I vacation. I would have loved to see you skiing. You don't wear a cowboy hat, do you?" she asked.
He laughed outright this time. "Nope, sorry. Am I being unpatriotic to my home state? Let me guess, you wear one every day."
"No way. Once a week, at least. Of course, you don't sin country, so I suppose it would be funny to see a pop singer wearing a cowboy hat. Although, I would pay good money for that." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oops, JC's getting impatient. It was nice to talk to you, Lance. You're definitely a sweetheart. Just remind me to meet you one day," she said with a bright smile. She genuinely liked him the moment that she heard his voice. Of course, it helped that he was from Mississippi, her state neighbor.
"You, too. Take care of JC for us while he's out there."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll make it back in one piece. Or at least, in one bag. You never know." They both chuckled at that.
She could hear his grin over the phone. "All right. Later, Brooklyn."
"Adios." She hung up and passed the phone back. "You have a week left, and we should be done far before then, so we can send you back early, unless I want to keep you. That's always a possibility," she said with a smile. "So, when do we get down to work?"
Chapter Three
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