Chapter Six
His eyes scanned the airport, grinning when he recognized the blond hairstyle standing a little bit away from him. "Thank God. You're about the only one I trust to actually pick me up," JC said, pulling his backpack further up on his shoulder. "My car or yours?" he asked, as they started to walk out. He hadn't taken anything with him, other than a backpack, and that seemed to work well for the small trip.
"Mine. So, were you right?" Lance Bass asked, adjusting the sunglasses he was wearing. Without even thinking, he took the ball cap that was in his hand and put it over his head, pulling down the brim. JC nodded distractedly as they came upon Lance's silver Acura. He waited for the doors to be unlocked, and slipped in the front seat, dropping his bag between his feet. "You're quiet today. Did something happen out there?" he asked, looking over his shoulder as he backed out.
"Huh? No, nothing happened. I was just thinking...you know a little bit about New York. What can you tell me?"
A pair of light green eyes looked over at him curiously, as he turned towards the toll booths. He paid quickly, still mulling over the question. "Jace, you've been to New York before. If you really wanted to find out about it, you should ask Joey, not me."
He chuckled, and pulled off his baseball cap, throwing it into the backseat. It was a long ride back to his apartment, and he was deadset on being comfortable. "Not New York, as in the state or city. I meant New York, as in Brooklyn Turner. It's my nickname for her."
A nod came from the seat beside him. There was no radio or CD playing, which didn't surprise JC. Lance preferred to concentrate on the road and traffic, due to a very minor car accident a few years back. "New York, huh? It's kind of cute."
"And it's my private nickname for her. Don't even think of using it."
Lance smiled at that, but didn't comment. "I don't know much about Brooklyn, but I know a little from a magazine article on her." He was silent again, trying to recall the information. "Okay, she doesn't like onions. She's allergic to them in large amounts, but a little doesn't bother her. She prefers silver to gold. She doesn't listen to the radio unless it's a country station...why the sudden fascination?"
"I'm not sure. She's not very open with anyone, and I figured if anyone could tell me about her, you could."
"I may be a fan of hers, but I'm not a stalker. I don't know every little thing about her. I couldn't even tell you what her shoe size is, or how tall she is."
JC smiled to himself. If there was one thing he loved, it was having an edge over someone. He was naturally a very competitive person, and knowing that he knew something that someone else didn't made him happy. Lance, on the other hand, thought the smile was for something else. "Her shoe size is eight and a half, and she's five foot six." He turned to look out the window, watching the cars rush by. "I was wondering...I've heard a lot about how she was when she first started out. Was there some big controversy around her or something?"
The tone was lazy, disinterested, but there was something hidden in there. "Not that I know of," he said, just as lazily. "I think once, she said that something big happened to her when she was younger, something that changed her outlook on the world or something like that, but she never went into detail. Anything else I can help you with?" JC nodded, so he continued. "All right, what else can I remember. Her favorite color is blue, her brother is a chef at one of Nashville's four star restaurants, and she's big on charities, especially drunk driving."
"Yeah, her parents were killed by a drunk driver, apparently."
A low whistle sounded from the driver's seat as Lance changed lanes. Beside them, a van filled with teenagers went by. They instantly slowed down, and started to wave and scream. Both men waved quickly, pasting smiles on their faces before he changed lanes again, heading into what seemed to be a sea of silver cars. "They'll probably still find us," he said quietly. "I never knew that. I suppose that's why she's so into those types of charities. Now, I've shared with you. I told you everything that I know. Start sharing. You don't get something for nothing these days."
JC rolled his eyes, sighing as he sunk into his seat a little more. "You've been watching too much Law and Order lately." He pulled on a pair of sunglasses, running one finger up and down his denim covered thigh. "No one knows a lot of this, so I suppose it'll be news to you. She's a big Days Of Our Lives fan, and even converted her brother into one. Man, Austin would kill me if he found out I said that. Umm...she doesn't wear makeup, she doesn't have any earrings. She...man, you're tailgating that guy."
"Yeah, well if I slow down any, I'm going to get hit from behind. I hate traffic."
"Don't we all." He stopped, thinking about what else he knew about Brooklyn, that Lance wouldn't have known. "Believe it or not, she doesn't have security guards following her every move like us, and she has all the freedom she wants. Apparently, she gets dunked in the fountain in the courtyard at Curb Records a lot. Oh, and she thinks that John Michael Monterey's dimples are cute, whoever that is."
Lance shook his head. "You need to listen to more country music. It's John Michael Montgomery, and she actually told you that?"
"No, her brother did. She was upstairs in her room, then. Did you know that New York has this little thing about falling off or over things when she's around me? She's a walking disaster half the time."
He smiled slowly, looking in his rearview mirror before turning off the freeway. "From what I hear, she also has a thing for tall men that have dark hair and blue eyes."
JC looked over, almost shocked. "How do you know what her boyfriend looks like? She told me that he's never been seen by the press before."
"Believe what you want, man. Believe what you want."
"Okay, I'll call you tomorrow, if I ever get up," she shouted behind her, waving goodbye to Joe. He grinned and climbed into his car, as Brooklyn swung herself into the passenger seat of her pickup truck. "I must be crazy, letting you drive. Maybe jet lag has gotten to me."
Austin smiled and leaned over, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Hello to you, too, Brooke. I guess you really don't want some of that roasted garlic that's at home right now, huh?" Her eyes widened, and he chuckled. "So, how was the trip? Tim has been calling every hour on the hour, and hanging up whenever I answer."
She nodded and closed her eyes as she leaned against the back of her seat. "Yeah, I have to meet with him tonight. The trip was okay, but the media circuit really wore me out. I can't wait to go on tour for a little while. JC did take some time to come and visit me, though. He had been busy when I made that quick stop in Orlando."
"Oh, really. Did he?" A smile started to spread across his face, chuckling under his breath. "So, what did you guys do out there?"
Shrugging, she opened the glove compartment and pulled a pack of gum out, pushing a piece into her mouth. She chewed furiously for a moment. "Nothing special. Went shopping, watched a movie in the hotel. I could get him out for a little shopping trip, but he wouldn't go to a movie theater. Double standard, in a way. Oh, hey, I picked up a new book for us. It's all about the Manson murders. I'm halfway through, and believe me, if you look at the pictures, don't do it at night."
"Buy anything else interesting?"
A wicked smile overcame her face, as they started out of Nashville, towards Belleview. "Yeah, actually. I bought three CDs, all of JC and his group. There's one song that you have to listen to. It'll definitely change your opinion on the guy." She snickered evilly, and turned up the radio, humming under her breath.
The ride didn't take too long, and soon Brooklyn was sitting in her living room, across from Austin. They were looking at each other over their steaming mugs of cocoa, when she sighed deeply. "Austin, will you hate me if I say something that I know is going to anger you?"
His eyebrows slid up slowly, and he continued watching her. "All right, I give. What are you going to say?"
She took a deep breath and looked off to the side, to the wall. The woman didn't say anything for a moment, but she looked back at her brother, and he could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "I...I was thinking about Mom and Dad again. JC brought them up, and it made me remember. I knew that you would get angry if I brought it up, but you're the only who really knows, so..." she trailed off when she saw the familiar look of anger in his green eyes. "Austin, please," she begged.
He let out a few cleansing breaths and watched Brooklyn drop her head, her hair hiding her face. "Brooke, you know I feel about this. It was stupid, reckless, and...why are you thinking about them anyway? You only do around your birthday."
"I told you, JC brought it up. He wanted to know, but I just...I couldn't tell him." Austin nodded slowly, knowing what she was really trying to get across. She sniffled under the veil of hair. "It's just...despite everything, I miss them so much. I know, you hated them both, but I didn't. They were my Mom and Dad, two people that I could use right around now. My God, did they ever think about that? Ever?"
Shaking his head, his face began to turn red as his anger increased. "You have to understand, I never hated them for what they did beforehand. Needless to say, I didn't like the way that you were treated by Mom, but I never hated them back then. I do now. Look at what they did to you. Brooklyn," he said, and put his mug down, walking over to her. He took her hands and peered under her hair to see one tear travel down her nose and fall into her lap. "Brooklyn, look at yourself in the mirror once in awhile, and try to remember what you used to be like." He smiled, and sat down at her feet, so that she could see him, and vice versa. "You used to be one of the most popular kids out in Nashville. Everyone knew you and liked you. You were always at the roller rink, or out for a burger and a movie...you were dating before I was." She offered a weak chuckle, but no more. The saddened expression was still on her face. "Now...now, you're a different person. You hide away from everything, you mope around for weeks on end."
"I do not," she whispered, trying to smile. It didn't work.
He shook his head, and felt tears come to his own eyes. This was his sister, his baby sister that was crying, and looking for answers that he didn't have. This was the little girl that he had once promised to whatever higher, more powerful figure that was above, that he would protect her as long as there was breath in his body. He swore that Brooklyn would never have to ask for anything, that she would never want anything, that she would never cry, and watching her made him think that he had failed in some way. Lord knows that he tried to keep what happened from her, but even he couldn't. He, at least, spared her from the sight, from both sights. Unfortunately, and he knew this, she had a great imagination, and she knew exactly what had happened. What everything had looked like.
Brooklyn Arizona Turner had never been a weak or frail person. She had always faced problems and dilemmas like there was nothing she couldn't handle. When she was seventeen, and then on her eighteenth birthday, both of them discovered that it wasn't true. She couldn't face everything, and stand up to it like she used to. The events of those two chilly January nights had changed her forever, and everyone was sure that there was no way that Brooklyn, the real Brooklyn, would ever come back. All of her friends had been shut out by her tortured heart, and she made no effort to bring them back into her life. They saw her on the street just as she was, as a stranger, someone they had once known. Her entire world, once colorful and bright, turned into an ugly shade of gray, and she remained there, not wanting to come out. She looked and acted like a frightened animal when she was with people that she knew, but otherwise, her acting skills came into play, and she showed herself to the world as a singer with a bright smile and cheery disposition. Too far from the truth, and the few people that did know her, Austin, Molly, and Joe, knew who she was. What she was.
"Brooke, I was so scared. You made me scared. I thought that I had lost my baby sister. In her place was some sort of impostor. I couldn't stand it. I honestly thought that you needed some sort of professional help, because I was scared that you were going to do something to yourself. Someone better than a psychiatrist came into your life." She looked at him, puzzled. "Honey, JC came into your life. I don't know what's so special about him, but every time that he calls, every time that you're with him, you're the old Brooklyn. The Brooklyn that I used to know, the same one that used to share that shoebox of a bedroom in the trailer with me. You just...you light up."
She groaned and took her hands from his, using them to brush away her tears. "Please, Austin. I've been over this with you before, with Tim, with Molly, with Joe...hell, with the whole world. We're just friends. Nothing but friends, and that's all we'll ever be."
He smiled and handed back her mug, which was sitting on the end table beside her. "I know. We just like to bug you about that. I know that you two are just friends, but that's my whole point. When was the last time you met someone, and before a week was over, you called them a friend. When was the last time that you called someone after they left town, someone that you had just met?" By the look on her face, she was absolutely dumbfounded. "Exactly. Not after Mo...after THEY died. I don't know what it is about the two of you, but there's something special there. Something that you should hold onto." She nodded, and drained the bottom of her mug, still thinking. "Look, you're tired. That's why you're acting like this. Not even on your birthday do you cry over them. Why don't you head upstairs and get some sleep. You look like you need it."
She stood up and put her mug down, walking over to him. She bent down and brushed a kiss across his cheek, smiling. "You're right, and I hate to admit it. Thank you, though."
"For what?" he asked her retreating back.
Shrugging, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "For just being there, for talking me straight...for being my best friend, and my brother." He smiled and waved her away, which she gladly did.
Once she was gone, he stood up and looked around the room. He left like a thief when he spied her purse sitting on the couch. Looking up the stairs, he opened it and looked inside, taking out the little notebook she used as an address book. Each page, in the corner, was marked off with her elegant writing. He flipped to the sixth page and saw JC's number instantly. Sitting down on the couch, he picked up the handset beside him and dialed the number to his cell phone, waiting patiently for him to pick up. "Hello, is this JC?" he asked.
"Yes, it is. Umm...Austin?" he asked.
The man smiled and leaned back on the couch. "Yes, it is. Brooklyn just came home and I need to have a little talk with you. Are you comfortable, because this might take awhile." He waited for the response, and then continued. "Okay, she was sitting here with me, and all of a sudden, she started to cry. Now, I know that you didn't know that you were doing anything wrong, but you mentioned our parents, right?"
He knew that JC was wearing a puzzled face at the moment, and he also knew that he felt like crap. If it had been anyone else, Austin would have gone up one side of them and down the other, but the pop singer was good for Brooklyn, in ways that no one could explain, though Molly and Austin had given it a good go. "Well, I brought it up, but I didn't think that it would have turned out to where her brother has to call me when she's not in the room."
"You know, huh? Then you know not to mention this to her. I can get pretty physical when I want, and I do like you, but if it comes to protecting my sister, not even God stands in the way of me. Understand?"
"Uh huh."
"Good, you're scared. I like that. Like I said, I know that you thought that there was nothing wrong with asking that, but there's a little problem with the whole scenario. She told you that they were in a car accident, fair enough, but it hurt her a lot. She was very hurt, considering that she lost both her parents so close to her birthday."
Austin could almost hear the wheels turning, and he waited for the inevitable question. He knew that it was going to happen, but he didn't know how he was going to answer. There was no proper way to answer the question. "How close to her birthday, a week?" he asked.
He bit his lip and thought about his answer. JC already knew that whatever he was going to say was either a lie, or a very calculated answer, where he would have to seek for the truth himself. "Somewhere between three days, the last day being her birthday. I can't tell you exactly, but it was then. JC, you're your own person. I can't tell you not to do anything, but understand that I'm asking you for one small favor. Brooklyn never got over what happened, and I doubt she ever will, but please, PLEASE, don't mention this to her. Don't ask her anymore. It's for her own good."
As soon as JC assured him that he wouldn't bring it up, he hung up and looked at the wall. "It really is for her own good."
"Hello, Turner residence," Brooklyn said, starting on her second cup of coffee of the morning. The sun was just rising, and was casting a beautiful reddish-pink glow throughout the kitchen. With one hand, she brushed her hair back, taking a quick sip.
Austin watched her from the kitchen table, sitting in front of a large binder. It was filled with recipes and ideas for how to present his silver platters to the judges of the next cooking competition. "Well, hello there, miss," an unfamiliar man said on the other end, causing her to frown. Her brother continued watching her. "Just who might this be?"
"Umm...depends on who this is," she said, trying not to laugh. He raised his head further and kept watching her as she bit her bottom lip to stop from exploding.
"I believe I asked first, Miss...Turner, right?"
She couldn't help herself, and finally let go of the laughter. The other person snickered, and Austin looked at her like she was crazy. To tell the truth, she was beginning to feel that way. Whoever was on the phone was entertaining her more than she thought anyone could. "Yes, my last name is Turner, otherwise I wouldn't have answered the phone like that."
"Ouch."
She giggled again. "Uh huh. And you're the one that has my number, though I would like to know how you got it, and who the hell you are. Are you a friend of Tim's?" she asked.
"Nope. Don't know a Tim."
"Okay, a friend of Austin's?"
"Nope, don't know an Austin."
"Molly? Joe? Hell, the other Tim?"
He laughed again, and she could hear more laughter in the background. "Nope, nope, and nope. I don't know a Molly, I am a Joe, so you're not talking about me, and the other Tim...I have no idea. I already told you that I don't know a Tim, Miss Turner, though I thank you for asking once more. Yes, I did get the number off of a friend, but I can't tell you which one."
Her eyes narrowed while she thought about what he had said. "Wait, you got the number from a friend, and you're name is Joe? You're JC and Lance's friend, right? I think he told me about you."
Austin finally put his head down and began sketching a new design. As soon as he was done, he stood up and passed it to Brooklyn. She put it on the counter as she began to read the notes written on the side. "Yeah, that would be me. So, you've heard of me? There is a God."
She couldn't resist laughing at him again when she heard the tone that he had used. The man was obviously begging for attention, and she was more than willing to give it to him. Despite the teasing words and tones, he seemed to be sweet enough, and being a friend of JC and Lance's was definitely a big plus in her books. "Yeah, and you're wishing it was you, right?"
"You're a smart one, Miss Turner. Out of curiosity, what is your name, just so that I don't have to call you that."
"I'm Brooklyn."
If it was possible, she had this strange idea that his mouth had dropped open further than it ever had before. The thought made her laugh harder than before. "You're Brooklyn? As in JC's Brooklyn? The one that he went to Nashville to sing with, and the one that he flew to Boston to see? Brooklyn Turner?"
"Umm...yeah, that would be me."
She could hear everyone in the background better, when he pulled the phone away. "Guys, it's Brooklyn Turner on the phone." People started to cheer and laugh, causing Brooklyn to laugh even harder. "I can't believe this. He was stupid enough to keep her number in plain view and not think that we were going to call to see who it was? Please."
"Hey, Brooklyn, have you two done the nasty yet?"
"Aww, are the two of you in love?"
"Has he seen the pretty purple underwear you're wearing?"
Seeing that she had the chance to respond, she grinned. "Well, no, no, and how did you know that I was wearing purple underwear?"
"Umm...a little too much information, New York," a new voice said, followed by groans. "Why would I want to know what color underwear you're wearing, and why were you talking to Joey, anyway?"
She laughed, leaning against the counter. "So, I came into contact with Joey and the other three stooges? Great, I feel special, and for your information, he called me, not the other way around. I think I heard that he got my number because you left it out in the open. You bad boy, you," she teased.
"I'm going to kill you," he shouted behind him, followed by some jeers. "Sorry about that, New York." When she heard the kissing sounds behind him, she couldn't help laughing and adding to the noise. "You're...you need to have a talk with your brother, because a five minute conversation has warped you." He lowered his tone, and she could hear the noise behind him disappear very slowly. "Sorry about that. I guess he took it when he picked me up in the morning. It was on my dresser and-"
"Please, don't explain yourself. I understand. Besides, I've learned that when someone tries to explain themselves, that means that they're lying." A bright smile spread on her face, and Austin couldn't help chuckling as he put down the pencil crayon he was holding and took hold of a red one.
By now, there was no background noise at all. "Words of wisdom from New York. I'm scared," he said. "Had to get away from the noise. So, what's up?"
She pulled herself up on the counter and crossed her bare legs, reaching over to top off her mug of coffee. "Let's see, what did I do this morning. Well, I got out of bed, and went to the bathroom, because that's practically the first thing I do every morning. I'll spare you the details over that, but can I just say that when your brother walks into your bathroom, instead of his own, something that I can't explain, he better put the toilet seat down, or else his sister will almost fall in. Notice I said almost. I caught myself just in time."
He chuckled from his end. "You're kidding. New York, that's a little more information than I wanted."
"Yeah, I know, but you asked. Okay, after that, I came downstairs and poured myself a cup of coffee. Just as I finished that, I poured a second cup and after my first sip, Joey called me, and then you came on, and...that's it, I guess. Oh, yeah, I've been looking over Austin's new designs and...damn, that one's not possible," she said, pointing to the paper he held up. An impossible stack of tomato, potato, and other assorted things stared back at her.
He sighed, putting it off to the side to change it. "I know."
"Wait, he designs? I thought that he was a chef."
Brooklyn smiled with pride when he asked about her brother. Austin was one of the few positive points in her life, and she had always been more than happy to share her thoughts and stories about him. "Well, he is. He's entered in a new cooking competition, and he has to design everything he puts on his silver tray. I would tell you about some of it, but he'd kill me. These competitions are like making an album. You let little hints and things slip out, but never exactly what you're going to do. Where are you, anyway?"
"Oh, I went into one of the studios. We're supposed to be having a meeting, but Lance is caught in traffic again, so we're just waiting for him." He paused, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Or not. I'll have to call you later."
"Sure. Bye, JC." She hung up and walked over to the table, steaming mug in hand. She moved the paper of the impossible tower-like design next to her, and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, taking a pencil crayon in hand. "So, what's the plan for today? I happen to know that this is your day off, and I don't want to hang around the house."
Austin nodded. "Remind me to remind you to call Tim. You were supposed to meet him last night." She groaned, and nodded. "As for the day, you're mine. You're going to go upstairs, take you shower and get dressed. I figured that we could hit all of the old spots. The roller rink, the arcade, maybe catch a movie."
"And eat at the diner," she finished for him, smiling. "Here, this looks a little better," she said, putting the new paper in front of him and walking upstairs with her coffee mug. Once upstairs, she opened her suitcase and pulled out a white envelope. From inside it, she brought out a stack of pictures, two twenty four picture rolls. She flipped through them, smiling, before she came upon the ones that she and JC had taken.
Most of the pictures were taken from inside the hotel room, a background of soft peaches and blues. The first one she came upon was actually taken by Joe, when he had dropped by to give Brooklyn some notes. She had tossed him the camera, and pulled JC down to sit on the bed. Her legs thrown across his lap, and her arms around his neck, both of them had turned to the camera and flashed identical smiles. Ones of people that had to smile too often, but didn't mind doing it for a private picture.
The others were of the two of them fooling around, including the one that Brooklyn could barely take because she was laughing too hard. He had pulled a dress out of her suitcase and examined it closely. A dark blue halter dress, dotted with small white flowers. Without thinking twice, he had stepped into the dress, almost pulling out the threads, and tying it around his neck, grinning. Her hands had been shaking so badly with laughter when he struck what seemed to be a Madonna pose, that she had been worried that the picture wouldn't come out. It did, and beautifully. She made a mental note to make a copy and send it to Lance, before JC got to see it.
Snickering, she came upon a very serious picture of her. She had been standing on the tiny balcony outside her room, looking up at the stars. She hadn't remembered him taking the picture of her, staring above so intently. The only thing she did remember was when he told her that there was a picture in there that he wanted a copy of. The words came back to her, including that of him saying that she would know which one it was, and smiled, putting it off to the side.
Groaning, she stood up and walked over to her closet, picking out a pair of light blue jeans and a black sweater. Throwing them in her arms, she walked into the bathroom, getting ready for what she was sure was going to be an amusing day.
"Austin!" she squealed, as he spun her around in a circle. People rushed by them, laughing and shouting over the country music that was playing. Brooklyn clenched his hands more tightly, throwing her head back as she laughed. He urged her to sing, but she didn't need any encouragement. She broke out into the lyrics happily, as he stopped the spin and pulled her along with him. "Hey, Jack, take back all those line you're trippin'. That's not who I am. It ain't that quaint. You're composure's slippin' right into my hands," she sang, along with half of the people skating around them.
He laughed as she turned around on her skates, waving to him as she skated backwards. One of his hands tapped to the beat with the song, which was one of Brooklyn's. She turned back around and skated to the exit, sitting down on one of the benches. "See, now this is why we get the old fashioned skates. They're more fun," he said, unlacing the old fashioned boots. He put them beside him, as Brooklyn pulled hers off. "So, where are we going next?" he asked.
"Next? We've been out for hours now. I have to go get ready for my date, anyway." He made a face as they put their boots up on the counter, and the man working it went to go get their sneakers. When they returned, they pushed them onto their feet and walked out, Brooklyn swinging her bag beside her. "I know, I know. Seriously, the last thing I want to do is go out tonight, but he's really adamant about this." She unlocked the doors to her truck and pulled herself into the driver's seat.
Austin followed, his eyebrows raised. "Adamant? Are you pulling out the big words again, Brooke? Didn't you use the word obsessed when you were on Leno?" She nodded, pulling out of the parking lot. "My point exactly. I know that something's up if you use the big words."
"Nothing's up, Austin Dakota," she said, pretending to chastise him. He smirked as she pulled up to a stop light with a groan. "I'm just...I'm starting to rethink all this relationship stuff. I'm no good at it, and to tell the truth, I could probably live without men."
He turned to look at her, pretending to be horrified. "Brooklyn Arizona Turner, are you saying that you could live without me?"
"I said men. You're my brother. There's a difference." She grinned and put the truck back into motion. "Don't get me wrong, and you'll roll your eyes at this, but I do love Tim. I've loved him for a long time, but sometimes I wonder if I say that I love him because it's such a natural thing to say now, or if it's because I really do truly love him."
"If you're doubting yourself, then you aren't in love."
She sighed, shaking her head to throw her hair over her shoulders. "I'm not doubting myself. There's no doubt in my mind that I love him. I guess the real question is, am I still in love with him." He shook his head. Whatever Brooklyn was trying to get across, she wasn't doing a good job of it. "It's possible to love someone, but not still be in love with them, you know."
Austin groaned. "You getting philosophical is not a good thing. Why don't you do this. Go out with Tim tonight, and...I can't believe I'm going to say this...if you feel the same way that you used to, that heartbeat speeds up, your pulse races, and you can't see straight, then you know you're still in love with him."
"You forgot that I can't speak a complete sentence." She paused long enough to turn a corner, sighing. "And if I don't feel like that? Forgive me, Austin, but you're my older brother, and you're supposed to have more experience in this than I do. You're twenty nine, I'm only twenty four."
He smiled. "Twenty five in January. It scares me to see how old you're getting."
"I'm not getting that old."
He nodded seriously. "You are. My God, think of it this way. You were seventeen when you signed your name on the dotted line for the first time. You're twenty four now, that's seven years."
Her mouth dropped open. "You're right. Wow, I'm nearing the end of this contract. In six months or so, I'll have to decide whether or not to sign a new one. Not that there's any doubt in my mind about that. Curb has treated me well for the past years, and everyone there is like family. I couldn't imagine working anywhere else."
"And I don't think that you should. You're right, Curb Records has treated you and me very well over the years. You're set for life, and if I ever become an uncle...please don't get any ideas in your head, but IF I do become an uncle sometime in the very distant future, they're set, too. They make it so that I can come out and visit you whenever I want to...they're terrific, Brooke, and I hope that you never EVER let go of their contracts."
She nodded. "Joe already talked to me about the new one. As of right now, this four album deal was in the millions, minus what's taken off from the government, Joe's fee's and everything else, it rounded out to around nine hundred thousand. This new one is guaranteed to bring me at least a million per record, and that's after taxes. When I was younger, I never thought that a big amount of money like that was even possible."
Austin smiled. "It's possible, Brooklyn, and you're good enough, talented enough to get that money. You deserve to be paid that much, there's no doubt about it. You deserve everything that you've gotten so far, and unlike a lot of people, you worked for what you have. You paid your dues, and now it's showing." His smile turned into a grin. "Who would have thought that my little sister would grow up to be a famous country singer that sells out arenas in less than a half hour."
"Mom," was her simple reply.
He sighed deeply, remembering the words that their mother had said to the both of them every night. "All right, I'll give you that, but I knew that, too. I never wanted to be the singer of the family, or even a singer. You know that my heart was set on cooking." She nodded. "You...you were the one that had the star appeal. If a camera was brought out, you were jump in front of it before anyone had a chance, a big smile on your face. I was the one that liked to hang out behind everyone, watching, but not involving myself."
Brooklyn smiled softly at the memories. "Yeah, unless I pulled you out with me. Which didn't happen too often, because you would pull rank on me." She giggled when she thought of how Austin would find a sensitive nerve on her arm with one shot, causing it to go numb, and for her to gasp in pain. "I always had bruises on me from you. It was embarrassing when the teachers would ask me if there was anything wrong at home. I told them that it was just my older brother, but they never believed me."
"They knew about our family, no doubt. Brooke, you pulled out name out of the mud and we got a fresh start. That has to be worth something to you."
She tapped one finger on the steering wheel before pulling into the driveway. "It means something to me all right, but it wasn't just me. It was us. You started it before anyone even knew about what I was doing. Working at one of the most upscale restaurants in Nashville? If children are supposed to be so much like their parents, how come we're so different. We're successful, something that Mom and Dad could never have said."
A shadow passed Austin's face as the two of them slipped out of the cab of the truck and headed inside. "No, they were successful, I will say that. They're problem was that they had two different vices that changed all of our lives. They were very successful when we were little, don't you remember?" He unlocked the front door with his key, allowing her to step inside first. "We used to live in that house, have everything that money could buy, and then IT happened. We lost practically everything." He shook his head, and both of them stood there in silence for a few minutes, both reflecting on what he had said. "As for tonight, what you were asking me? I know, from experience that if it doesn't feel like it used to, it's not worth the time or effort. If you're not in love, don't bother."
She nodded and went upstairs, closing her door behind her. She walked over to the bed and sat down. Brooklyn had never been clear on love, but she supposed that no one ever was. It was too confusing, too befuddling to make sense of. She was never sure of the difference between love and being in love. Now, she was wondering if there really was a difference.
Standing back up, she went to her closet, looking through it. Her eyes wandered to the dress that JC had worn and smiled, fingering the material. She had never really considered him as Austin had said. It had been so long since she had ever thought of anyone as a friend. Her brother had been right about one thing: there was something special about JC, she just didn't know what it was. In such a short amount of time, she called him a friend, and knew that he was one, but it floored her to think of another person like that.
"A friend," she whispered to herself. "JC is a friend." The words slipped off of her tongue so easily, so effortlessly, and she couldn't help but like the way it sounded. It was so natural for her to think now. It was because of one person, just one person, that she had changed her perspective of the world.
Lance was one example. Just because JC knew him, she liked him instantly. Just because they knew each other, Brooklyn liked him instantly. She was almost positive, if she had ever met him at a party or awards show, she would have said, "Hello, it's nice to meet you," and then avoided him the rest of the time. Brooklyn was not a person that just started talking to someone, but that had changed. She just wanted to know what caused the change in her. What part of JC had touched her so much that she changed for the better?
Another example was Alyssa, she reminded herself as she pulled out a black skirt, looking at it. Someone that she had met and known for a total of ten minutes, and she asks if she wants to go shopping. That was something that the old Brooklyn never would have done. Not that the two didn't have a good time. She hadn't gone shopping with a female in a long time, and sitting outside, gossiping and making fun of some of the more colorful people that walked by had to have been the highlight of the afternoon, but it still wasn't her. "Whoever it is," she began in a low voice, "I'm starting to like her."
"Are you talking to yourself again?" Austin asked as he walked by.
She rolled her eyes and threw the skirt on her bed, hunting for a shirt to match it. "Oh, shut up!" she yelled back, turning to look through her blouses. She picked out a champagne colored silk blouse, adding it to the skirt, but more carefully, so that it wouldn't wrinkle. Her sock covered feet moved over to her makeup table, so that she could look through her collection of jewelry. She added a one strand pearl necklace to the ensemble, which was Tim's gift to her for their one year anniversary. She smiled and headed into the bathroom to take her shower.
A half hour later, she emerged, a towel wrapped around her, another one drying her hair. The phone beside her bed rang and she hurried to answer it. "Hello, Turner residence," she said, struggling with the towel.
"Hey, Brooklyn. We ARE going out tonight, right?" Tim asked on the other end. She listened to his tone, and heard nothing but anxiousness.
"Yes, we are. I'll be over there in about three quarters of an hour, all right? We're taking your car, right?"
He could detect a hint of a smile in her voice. "Yeah. We're going out to Nashville for dinner. I hope you don't mind." She said that she didn't, and he chuckled. "Great. I know that we have some things to talk about, but that can wait until dinner. I'll see you soon. Love you."
"Love you, too," she said before putting the phone back down. Sighing, she hurried to put on the skirt and blouse, adding a pair of pantyhose and her string of pearls. Sitting down at the makeup table, she brushed her hair out now that it was completely dry and reached for her curling iron. When she was done, the usually straight as a bored hair was adorned with soft curls that framed her face. She knew that Tim liked her the best that way, all made up, and she didn't mind, this once.
The next part was a little difficult for her. It wasn't that she didn't know how to put on makeup, because she did. The only problem was that she didn't like makeup. It all felt like a mask to her, and the last thing she needed was another mask to conceal herself. Sighing, she put the smallest amount of makeup on that she could deal with, and fluffed her hair before looking at herself. It didn't look like her, but there was nothing she could do about that.
Getting down on her hands and knees, she dug out a pair of black heeled shoes from underneath the bed. Sitting on the floor in a very unladylike position, she strapped on the shoes, and stood up, laughing. "Time to get this show on the road, I guess." She picked up her small purse, more like a handbag than anything, and put her wallet, lipstick, and a few other items inside before brushing her bangs out of her face, walking to the door. "Man, I hate heels," she complained to herself as she closed the door behind her.
"Yeah, but you look fantastic. Is that really my little Brookie under there?"
She smirked and twirled for him. "Unfortunately, it is. Amazing what a little time can do to a person, huh? I don't know when I'll get back, but I have my keys. Don't wait up, the two of us have a lot of talking to do."
He nodded and let her go. She made it to her truck without problems, but getting in was a little difficult. "I knew that I should have worn shorts underneath this getup," she said, sighing. She opened the cab's door and placed one foot on the foot board before looking around to see if anyone was watching. When she couldn't see anyone, she bounced on her foot for a moment, before she jumped in, slamming the door shut behind her. "Here goes nothing, I suppose," she said nervously, starting the pickup.
She drove to his apartment without problems, and got out easily, parking in one of the visitor's spots. Straightening her skirt, she smiled at the young man who opened the door for her, her mind thinking back to when JC first opened a door for her. That was when she knew that he was worth holding onto, and so far, she had been right. Thanking him as he walked to his own first floor apartment, Brooklyn made her way in the opposite direction, soon standing in front of his door. Raising her fist to knock, the door opened before she could, and Tim smiled at her. His eyes drunk in her small figure and the fashionable clothes. "You look so beautiful, Brooklyn," he said, bending to kiss her.
Smiling when he pulled away, she tucked a lock of curled hair behind her ear. "You look great, too," she responded, looking at the suit jacket and tie he was wearing. "We should probably get going."
He nodded and stepped out, locking the door behind him. He extended his arm to her, which she took thankfully. "Let's go, gorgeous."
Brooklyn took a small sip of the glass of wine that Tim had ordered for her. She didn't mind drinking one glass, but she would never get into the driver's seat, even after only one sip. There were too many memories for her not to. Thankfully, she noticed, Tim was drinking water and coffee for the night, glad that one of them could drive. There had been many opportunities that the two had to take a hotel room for the night, and it wasn't something that she was planning on that night. "It's not getting to you yet, is it?" he asked with a charming smile.
She returned it. "Just a little. You know how only glass of wine effects me." She grinned and reached across the table, her face being covered in candle light. "Tim, I'm really glad that we got through all of this. So...you believe me?"
He nodded, signaling for the water. "Yes, I believe that he's just a friend. I admit, I wasn't too sure about letting you hang out with him, but it's all right. Just like Tim, right?" He turned to the waiter. "I'll have another cup of coffee, and the lady will have a coffee with Kahlua," he said.
With a weird look, she allowed the order to go through and nodded to the waiter. He returned the nod and hurried off to the bar. "Another drink? I don't think that's smart," she said slowly. He smiled, telling her that he would take care of her, if need be, and she relaxed. She was sure to have a hell of a hangover the next day, but she still agreed. The coffee came, and she took a sip, relieved to find that it only tasted like coffee. "As you were saying, yes, JC is just like Tim. Just another friend. He's not married, mind you, but he's just a friend."
"Good."
By the time that Brooklyn finished her drinks, she was in a good mood, to say the least. They waited for the car to come back from the valet, and slipped into it. Tim and her talked the entire way home, mostly about her trip. She was careful not to mention that JC had spent that one night in her room, but she had no trouble saying that he had come to see her during the trip.
He brought her back to his place, but she knew that she wouldn't be driving home, and she would be spending the night at Tim's. The only thing that worried her, she thought as she received another kiss, was how mad Austin was going to be. She was sure that she could deal with him in the morning, but by the way that Tim was kissing her, he thought something was a lot more important at the time.
Chapter Seven
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