AN: Brucas fic. Just an idea. It's been exactly one year since the fake engagement. CoB turned into Brooke Davis Holdings and Ravens is about to be released. Lucas is seriously considering going out with Lindsay, starting something, but he decides he needs a little closure with a certain brunette first. I owe nothing related to OTH.

Chapter 1 – Monday, May 5th 2008

Brooke

The alarm goes off as usual, five-thirty in the morning. Six and a half hours of restless sleep, and a very busy day ahead. I put on exercise pants and a sports bra and spend an hour on my home gym, with aerobics and weights. Next is breakfast, yoghurt and granola, green juice and coffee, a long hot shower and putting on my working ensemble. Grey tube skirt, broad black belt ivory silk blouse, a chinese pattern scarf, three-inch peek through black heels, jewelry and an artful bun held by shiny black chopsticks. I check myself in the full body mirror on the way out. Twenty-years-old and looking like a million bucks. I am determined to keep my mind focused on work today. Just work.

It's seven-thirty when I get to the street, and my driver Jason is waiting with the limo door open. I smile at him.

"Good morning, Miss Davis."

"Good morning. How was your weekend?"

"It was fine, m'am. Took the kids to a Mets game on Sunday."

"How was it?"

"We lost to the Cubs. But the kids enjoyed it anyways."

"I guess that's what counts."

"Yes m'am." He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and two boys, ages seven and five.

Twenty minutes later he drops me off at the midtown building where Brooke Davis Holdings leases floors twenty-eight to forty. I take the express elevator to the thirty-ninth floor and Millie is waiting for me with my caramel skim latte, no foam and a report on the schedule for the day.

I take meetings continuously until one-thirty, and Millie brings me my lunch, chicken alfredo pasta from Brunelli's, a small greek salad and a diet coke. While I eat, Millie and I go over planning for the week, and, by two, I can close my door and focus on my designs. I'm touching up our Fall catalogue, finishing some of my own designs for our Summer show, marking suggestions and working on red carpet outfits for a couple of celebrities who we want to appear wearing Brooke Davies. It's close to five, and I have successfully managed to keep my mind focused on work the whole day. I stop for a second, get up and stretch, checking my phone for messages. There's about a dozen messages, which I either check or delete, and, in rare ocasions, answer. As I scroll down I come across a message. "Lucas – 15:42". Damn.

I haven't heard from him for almost one year. Shit. I had managed to keep him out of my mind for the whole day. I mark the message and my thumb approaches the delete button, but, at the last microssecond, I open it instead.

"Bethesda Fountain. 7 pm. Pls."

No. There is no way. I check the time. It's a quarter past five. I have work in front of me for at least another five hours. No way I'm doing this to myself. I get back to work. At a quarter to seven I begin to cry. No. No way. I run my arm across my working table, scattering work product everywhere. I start pacing.

"Pls."

At five past seven I grab my bag and leave. I'm furious. Who does he think he is? The limo is waiting at the garage.

"Good evening m'am. Home?"

Jason looks concerned. "Fifth and Seventy second. Fast."

"Yes, m'am."

He drops me off at the entrance of the Park at half past, and it's a ten minute walk to the fountain on my heels. I climb down the steps, and my hope that he had given up and left dies. He stands up and gives me a soft smile when he sees me. Somehow, he looks taller, broader, his hair cut short, just the way I like it. Cheap tan slacks, a grey coat and a blue shirt with a yellow silk tie. He's holding a single red rose. I get next to him and I push him, both hands against his chest with all my strength. It's just like pushing a wall. I raise my voice. "Lucas! What makes you think you can just summon me like that? I'm a busy, busy woman. Who do you think you are?" I push him again, trying to throw him into the fountain. The people around are beginning to stare. He hands me the rose and I take it, noticing the lost face and the faint moisture appearing in his eyes. It takes every ounce of my self control to stand rigid three feet away from him and not to jump at his neck and hug him. It's been one year to the hour, since I saw him last. I've missed him every single day.

His voice sounds sad. "I'm glad you came. Although I hoped for a slightly less hostile welcome"

"It's been a year, Lucas. What do you want?"

"In one word? You."