A/N: This is my second One Tree Hill story I'm going to attempt to write, this time about Brooke and Lucas. The idea came to me a few days ago and so I thought I'd give myself a chance to write it. This first chapter is a little short but it is only the beginning. The following chapters will be longer. If anything doesn't match like the flight time or something then forgive me. I'm from Australia and I'm unfamilar with the timing in the US. A flight here usually takes about an hour to an hour and a half here. If it bothers you then let me know and I'll fix it. I hope you enjoy it and review whether you love it or hate it so I can try and fix any errors that may be needed.
Summary: COMPLETELY AU. When Brooke makes a chance encounter to help out a litte girl in need of a female hand, she hadnt expected she'd end up falling for the girl's father, pending her life to a ready made family.
An Unexpected Family
Chapter One
The phone rang as Brooke Davis was leaving for the day. Her employee, Millicent was on another line and didn't even glance up.
Brooke's rule was to deal with the customer you had. Her company never put anyone on hold so that the caller felt devalued. People could leave a message, and 'Clothes over Bro's' would get back to them.
When they did, the customer would be treated as if they were the most important human being in the world at that moment which they were.
Brooke had turned her high school creation of designing her own clothes into a reality and now it had become a very profitable business, catering for the average twenty-first person in women, young women, little girls and baby wear. It certainly had become a dream come true for Brooke. Five years ago when she had started up her own website so others could ensue an opportunity to obtain her clothing, she never imagined she would go on to being one of the most talked about young designers.
She had stores opened in every major city around the world as well as providing her label to every major department store worldwide. She had big name Hollywood A-Listers such as Jennifer Aniston, Reese Witherspoon and Katherine Heigl who were a handful of the many celebrities who were always so eager and willing to wear one of Brooke Davis's collection of evening dresses to a Red Carpet event. It was the long awaited publicity she loged to have since she first began making her own clothes and so it was always a pleasure to have the opportunity to style for a famous celebrity.
It was all so surreal and most days, she had to keep telling herself that it wasn't a dream. This was her reality.
Brooke snatched up the phone. "Clothes over Bro's, this is Brooke Davis."
"Brooke! Thank God."
Brooke recognised the voice of one of her newest employees, Jane, above the background shrieks.
"What's going on? Brooke asked. From the volume of those screams in the background, murder wasn't out of the question.
"A kid is flipping out."
"What kid?" Brooke glanced at Millicent who had hung up her phone. She shrugged at Brooke's silent question.
"I'm in Tree Hill."
"Where's that?" Brooke asked. She vaguely knew of the town as small when she had briefly visited there so she could open up a 'Clothes over Bro's' Store but that was it. She had never really had any other desire to return to the place, instead opting to make frequent phone calls to discuss clothing, store prices and such with the manager she had put in charge to run the place. She had felt confident enough to know that the store would be run in an efficient way. Brooke had chosen to fulfil her work requirements in her second home of New York.
"Near Charlotte in North Carolina," Jane took a deep breath. "I told her that we don't really style for children and that we're not mummies. She didn't take it too well."
Jane must have held the receiver toward the screaming child because Brooke could distinctly hear, "I need someone to style me. You said I could rent one."
"Who called us?"
"I thought it was a grandmother or an aunt but it must have been the kid."
"You can't tell the difference?"
"The store was frantic. Phones were ringing; people were coming in and out. I got distracted."
Brooke sighed and shook her head, wondering why she had allowed her many stores to participate in 'Your very own Stylist' idea. It was beginning to turn into a nightmare.
Everyone wanted their own stylist and they weren't happy until they got what they wanted.
"Tell her you need to talk to her mother."
"I think that is the problem. She doesn't have one. She saw the ad in a magazine and—"
"Decided to rent one, got it. Well, find her father—"
"Not me. I'm out of here."
"What? No, you need to—"
"I quit," Jane said. "I only took this job to fulfil my money woes while I go to school. I'm not going to be some stylist for a whiny child. I have my own life to worry about, not to mention my college work load. If you want to smooth this over, you come out here and do it yourself."
"But—" Click. "Hell."
Brooke hung up then tore through her e-mail inbox.
"Tree Hill," she muttered, standing at her computer and typing an airline website into the browser. Ever heard of it?"
"Nope," Millicent said.
Brooke clicked on the flight schedule and typed in the necessary details she'd need to book her ticket. Once she had finalised her flight and paid for her ticket, she clicked off the computer.
"Trouble?" Paige asked.
"Jane quit. I'm going to have to fly to Tree Hill and settle things myself."
She grabbed her down coat and purse, and hailed a taxi to take her to JFK Airport so she could catch her flight. The trip took around an hour not that Brooke was focusing on the time anyway. In its place, she opted to take a little nap. She knew it would be the only real sleep she'd get while she was attending to the business she needed to sort out.
The plane jolted to a stop at the airport in Tree Hill, she was abruptly woken up by the jading of the plane touching down on the airways. Stumbling into the foyer of the airport, Brooke found her way to the entrance and hailed another taxi to take her to the girl's home address that Jane had given to her so she could locate her home address and sort out the mess.
She reported the address to the taxi driver and within a few minutes later she was at the house, a freshly painted white board Colonial on a side street with budding maple trees surrounding the front of the house.
"Two-fifteen Maple Street," she murmured.
Back in her hometown of Connecticut, the streets had been similarly named for their most impressive features. Brooke felt a slash of homesickness so deep she ached with it. But she knew that she could never go home again. Brooke did what she always did — she went on.
Strolling up the front path, Brooke noticed the little things. The bushes needed trimming. The windows could use a good wash and heck; they could use some new curtains. Brooke reached out to ring the bell when the front door swung open.
If she hadn't known the child was a girl from Jane's use of pronouns plus and if she didn't understand kids well enough to realise that no little boy wore pink, Brooke might have been stumped. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail as she wore a blue baseball cap and her jeans looked miles too big for her and she wore them with a ripped hole strewed on the knee.
Now Brooke realised the mess this little girl had put her into. She didn't know of the circumstances but this little girl really did need help.
But her blue-green eyes were shrewd as she looked Brooke up and down then cocked her head. "So how much will it cost for you to style me?"
Lucas Scott was on the phone in his office talking to his editor when Heidi, nanny to his four year old daughter Charli came in. He automatically glanced behind her for his daughter, frowning when she wasn't there. One glance at Heidi's face and he said into the phone. "I'll call you back Lindsay," then hung up before she could protest.
"What happened?" He knew that with Charli, anything was possible.
"She's not here?" Heidi asked, her brown hair swaying from side to side.
"She's supposed to be with you."
"She never showed up to my place after day care."
Heidi was his next door neighbour and had volunteered to watch Charli on the odd chance that he was coaching the Ravens, working on his writing or when Nathan and Haley were busy. She had insisted that she'd be good company to him since she never got to see her own grand children as much as she liked so to her, Charli was a substitute and it suited both Lucas and Charli fine considering his own mother was exploring the world with his sister Lily.
But when his child was Charli Scott, it was pretty damn hard to watch over her for a merely few hours. However sweet and adorable Charli looked on most occasions; she also made an art form of driving sitters insane.
She didn't mean to be difficult. She was just a little girl who proved to be far too smart for her own good who was always bursting with a lot of energy. She was also extremely bright and proficient at getting her way. She wheedled and cajoled and once in a while she threw a fit, though usually only with Lucas. When she played, she played hard. So far, she hadn't managed to break herself but Lucas wasn't certain at how long the record would last.
"Did you check the house? Luke asked.
"Should I have?" Heidi frowned. "She was supposed to come to me."
"Where did you look?"
"The playground, the park, Nathan and Haley's house, the route from the school to home."
He debated calling home then decided against it. He'd go home, see if Charli was there and if not, he'd call the police. It wasn't anything he had done before and he hoped he'd never have to do it.
When he got home, he ran up the path and burst in the door. A woman stood in his kitchen, speaking calmly and quietly to Charli.
Tall and slim, she wore a light grey A-Lined business skirt with a blue silk blouse. The skirt ended at her knee revealing a nice set of calves. Her brown hair was styled and hanging loosely around her shoulders with her fringe parted to one side of her face. He glanced at Charli. What the hell?
"Charli," Lucas began, his voice coming out louder and angrier than he meant.
The woman glanced up and he was troubled by the hue of her eyes. Grass-green when he'd expected sky-blue.
Then his daughter turned and her tears were glistening as they ran down her cheeks. It made everything she had already done but her.
"What did you do?" he demanded.
"It wasn't her fault," the woman began.
Lucas lifted his gaze from Charli's to the stranger's. "I wasn't talking to her."