A/N: Firstly, I have to say thank you to everyone who reviewed or added it to their story alerts. Seriously, I wasn't really expecting so many people to read it so it sure was a surprise when I checked my email and saw the list of reviews and story alerts. I probably would have had this up a few days ago but I wanted to work out the rest of the plot before I wrote anymore to the story plus I know some of you were a little confused by the first chapter but that is just the way it came out when I was writing it and so I spent a little more time on this one to make you understand it maybe a little more and I promise, the next few chapters will get better and explain itself if you find yourself even more confused by the end of this chapter. I hope you try to enjoy it and review because your reviews really do help me write the story better.
Slight warning; Just a heads up that there is a mention of a character death in this chapter and so I do apologise if you like that character but their death did need to take place in order for the plot to succeed the way I've planned it to.
An Unexpected Family
Chapter Two
"You think I did something?"
Lucas moved farther into the room. "Did you?"
The woman's spine stiffened. The movement caused her blouse to separate as her breasts thrust forward.
He averted his gaze. He had no business watching her breasts. Not only because his daughter was watching his every move he made with those sad, teary eyes but because breasts were off limited. He was still in love with Charli's daughter — his wife. Peyton was—is the love of his life. She had only been gone for six months. It was too early for him to start looking at other women like he had once looked at Peyton. Not to mention that he had to put Charli first. She was his first priority and the fact that every time Lucas looked at Charli, he saw Peyton in her.
He glanced at his daughter and softened. She was an exact replica of her mother besides the curly hair but Lucas knew she had developed her mother's fiery personality. It brought tears to his eyes, just thinking that she would never get to see their little girl grow up.
"I take it you're the father."
"Got it in one," he said. "And you are?" Lucas raised his eyebrows in suspicion. He didn't like that the one thing in his life that he'd do anything for had just taken off, especially when she was only four. He thought Charli knew better than to just walk off without telling anybody. What happened to all those stranger danger rules he and Peyton had talked to her about? Had they just gone in one ear and out the other?
"Brooke Davis." She stepped forward, her high-heeled pumps clicking on the vinyl floor as she offered a perfectly manicured hand. "Clothes over Bro's."
Lucas looked her up and down. Of course she was a fashion designer. He thought she looked somewhat familiar to him. Peyton had worn some of her clothes.
"Why are you here?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"Your daughter called and hired us. She seems to be under the mistaken impression that we're actually daily stylists."
"That's what Emma's mums' magazine said." Charli wiped away her tears.
She hardly ever cried and of course he couldn't bear it when she did so he always made a joke about there being no crying in basketball. Charli loved basketball. She had been playing it with him since she could bounce a ball.
"Let me get this straight," Lucas said. "You hired a service to style you?"
Charli dug the toe of her shoe into the floor. "Yeah."
Charli refused to look at him. He'd deal with her later.
"You often accept jobs from children?"
"It was a mistake which is why I came," Brooke said in a business like tone.
He fixed Charli with a glare. "Why didn't you go to Heidi's?"
"I didn't wanna. I played with Emma."
Luke resisted the urge to smack himself in the forehead. She didn't wanna. What was he going to do with her?
"You don't like Heidi?"
At first Charli didn't answer then she lifted her head and stared at him defiantly. "I want clothes."
When had this started? It was natural that Charli would miss her mother. She and Peyton would do everything together like go shopping and on the off chance when Peyton was needed in the studio to record music with one of her artists, Charli would always go along with her and help her out. Sure, Luke always had Haley to take Charli out for some girly fun but he also knew that being a four year old who had friends around her with both parents, it only made her miss her mother more than ever when she saw her friends bond with their moms.
Lucas had believed he was doing a good job of playing the role of mom and dad while also partaking the role of Coach to his old high school basketball team and book writer but maybe he'd been wrong.
Charli sighed. "Danielle invited me to her birthday party."
"Honey, you know Aunt Haley—" Luke stopped, unable to say anything else, especially in front of Ms. Davis. He didn't need to let this woman know everything about their past. It was bad enough that she had just turned up out of the blue. He didn't need a stranger knowing everything about what they had already been through.
"I know that…" Charli tuned out.
Ms. Davis cleared her throat. They both glanced at her. "I suppose I could help her find something to wear."
"Yay!" Charli shouted, making Brooke jump.
Her smile was purely professional. "I'll have someone contact you in time for the party," she promised.
"Not you?" he asked.
"I don't work in the field anymore." She glanced at Charli and her face seemed wistful. "Someone has to be in charge of the company. I only came out here today because I was unable to have someone else come out."
Luke had to admit he was relieved. He wanted Charli to be taken care of by a motherly type — someone who would bake cookies, read stories, tuck her in — all the things she was missing since Peyton died.
He assumed Brooke Davis was an excellent businesswoman. She had to be to have begun Clothes over Bro's five years ago and already made such a success of it. But he doubted she had had much experience children wise.
Luke reached into a kitchen draw and withdrew a notepad and pen as he scribbled his phone number down on the paper and then tore it off, handing it to Brooke.
"These are my contact details."
"I'll be in contact with you soon. You can count on me," she said, her eyes met his and for a brief second, Luke experienced a dangerous tingle.
Strangely enough, he felt that he could count on her.
Brooke sat back as the taxi drove her back to the airport. She was happy she had averted the crisis but saddened by what she had seen.
Tree Hill reminded her so much of the place where she had grown up, the memories nearly overwhelmed her. Brooke had spent years forgetting. She wasn't about to let a single visit to a town bring everything back. She was stronger than that.
Still, she felt sorry for the kid. She understood where Charli was coming from. Brooke would make certain she sent the perfect "stylist" or whatever she needed to help out Charli. As much as she could have, she knew that she couldn't just push aside this little girl's request. After all, she was young once too. She knew all about the pressures to look pretty and wear the right clothes, although her stage happened a little later in life. She guessed things now happened sooner rather than later.
Brooke spent a few seconds thinking about Lucas Scott. She couldn't help it. From the moment he'd burst into the house, she'd had a hard time keeping her eyes off him and her mind on the discussion.
She vaguely remembered his name from his brother who if she recalled used to be a pro basketball player, not that she was a fan of the game but every now and then when her hectic schedule wasn't filled up with fashion shoots, design meetings, the Clothes over Bro's store she worked from, celebrities she styled for and general appointments, she'd try to catch a few of the games. She guessed they were brothers. They shared the same last name. But none of that was what it intrigued her. She had been drawn to his sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes.
She clenched her hands together. What was wrong with her? She hadn't been attracted to a man since her ex boyfriend. Broken hearts were not easily mended.
So Brooke had remade herself into a businesswoman and concentrated on launching her fashion label. She walked the walk, talked the talk, wore the clothes, the make-up, and the hairstyle.
Brooke pushed her memories of the past into the past as the taxi pulled up to the airport.
When she returned to New York, instead of going home to her apartment, Brooke went to her Clothes over Bro's store. She needed to find someone to send to Tree Hill to help out Charli. She supposed she could have found someone if she went back to her apartment but she didn't feel like going home at that point. When she logged on to the computer, she scrolled through the list of employees who had put their names down to be volunteer stylists for the competition but came up with no results. All available employees were otherwise engaged.
She called Sadie, an employee she hired to work within one of her growing stores.
"Hey! She answered. "What's up?"
"I need a stylist to help a single dad in Tree Hill."
"Ain't happening."
"But I already promised. Please, I'm desperate," Brooke begged.
"Then say you can't find someone. It's one measly competition. It's not like your whole company runs based on this. You're a clothes based company who provide style not stylists. Say that the competition has come to an end and we simply do not have efficient people to make the cut."
Brooke frowned. She couldn't say no after she had already said yes. Charli was so happy when she had said that she would find someone to help her. She just couldn't break that little girl's heart.
"No, I can't do it. I can't break her heart. She was so excited."
"Then you'll have to do it because I can't. You know my wedding is in a few weeks and you've already promised me some time off so I can finalise wedding stuff."
"Hell," she muttered.
"I knew you'd see it my way," Sadie said. "Bye."
Brooke hung up the phone and glanced at the time on her phone as she bit down on her bottom lip.
Nothing was going to help. She knew there was only one person who would be taking up this offer.
The next day Brooke arrived at the store bright and early. She didn't get much sleep the night before so she decided to make the most of awaking early and go in to work to take care of business before she left for Tree Hill. Technically, she didn't need to head to Tree Hill until the day of the birthday party but Brooke figured if she travelled there now and got it done then it'd be out of the way and she wouldn't have it in the back of her mind as something she needed to deal with.
Leaving the store at midday, she rushed home so she could change out of her clothes and into a pair of dress slacks and a fitted sweatshirt. She added light brown pumps and finished off with silver earrings, a necklace and bracelet.
Before One Thirty, Brooke was on the plane and on her way to Tree Hill. She had decided to hire a car to take her from point A to point B.
When she arrived at the house, she went inside to where it was quiet. The house wasn't exactly neat but it wasn't messy either. The house was lived in. The place felt like home.
Shoes had been kicked into a corner while a coat and sweatshirt hung on a coat rack.
Cereal bowls, a juice glass and a coffee cup had been rinsed and set in the sink.
She checked the clock and saw that she had a few minutes spare before she wanted to meet Charli at school and become a stylist to a four year old so she found a piece of paper detailed with a list of important numbers of people whom were obviously noted to call in an emergency and was stuck to the fridge. She pondered through the list until she got to one that read "Heidi—Babysitter" and dialled her number to let her know of her intentions with Charli today.
After she ended the phone call, she decided to walk over to the school that was only about four blocks away on the other side of the downtown area that made up the business section and surprise the little girl.
Within seconds of arriving out the front of the school, the door slammed open and children began to pile out. Brooke stood at the edge of the footpath, her mouth curving as she watched the kids run off to their parents. Shouts and laughter filled the air.
Brooke smiled when she spotted Charli wearing jeans and a pink t-shirt.
"Charli!" Brooke called out, and lifted a hand when the girl looked her way and then turned to the girls next to her to say something before she hurried over.
"I thought someone else was going to help me," she said softly.
"I wanted to."
Not even close to the truth but the child already had abandonment issues—Charli didn't need to know that Brooke would have done anything to avoid this, if she could have.
A few minutes later, they began walking down the street. They had almost reached the end of the street the school was on when Charli spun around and made a break for it and ended up in front of a big store window a few yards away.
Brooke opened her mouth to call out but then she noticed the intent expression on Charli's face. Instead, she retraced her steps.
The window was blocked by drapes but printed on the glass in large flowing pink script was Amy's School of Ballet.
"You like ballet?" she blurted out.
Charli spun on her heel and walked away.
Just seeing the ballet school made Charli feel funny, both sad and happy like she wanted to cry and she wanted to run and jump and laugh at the same time.
She reached the house before Ms. Davis. The door was locked so she took the spare key that she knew was hidden underneath a pot plant on the porch from when her mother and father had taught her everything she ought to know if she locked herself out of the house while playing. She dumped her back pack on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen for some milk.
She saw the chicken and salad that her dad had left out for dinner and made a face. She wasn't a fan of salad or chicken for that matter. But she also didn't think she'd be allowed to eat pizza either. They had pizza the night before. She knew she wouldn't be entitled to pizza two nights in a row.
The front door closed. Charli set her cup on the counter as Brooke emerged into the kitchen. She didn't like the way Ms. Davis looked at her, as if she could see everything Charli felt and thought.
A few minutes later Brooke took in the trashed bedroom of Charli's room where she had resurfaced to after she left her. There were clothes everywhere but this didn't appear to be a temper tantrum. Brooke had seen those before. Everything got thrown around, not just clothes.
Charli was scowling in the mirror as if she didn't like what she saw. Brooke moved farther into the room. "I heard a thud up here so I came to make sure you hadn't hurt yourself. Were you looking for something?"
"Can't find what you don't have," Charli muttered.
"Which is?"
"Girl clothes."
"What are girl clothes?" Brooke asked but she already knew. After all, she was a fashion designer and she was once a girl too. This was apparently the reason Charli had even called her company in the first place.
"You know." Charli waved her hand at the pile on her bed and floor. "Not these."
"But it seems that you've got some nice things," Brooke implied, trying to cheer the little girl up.
"Yuck!" Charli exclaimed.
Brooke stifled a smile. "Then I guess that's where I come in. I'll help you."
At first Charli didn't answer but then she lifted her head and her dark, serious gaze, much like the one her mother wore at times, and met Brooke's eyes. "Can you teach me to be a girl?"
Brooke's smile faded. Poor baby, she felt sorry for her, whether she didn't know what had happened or not. "You are a girl, honey." She tried to commiserate her. She hated to think of the pain this little girl was going through when she should be having fun like any four year old who shouldn't have any care of the world.
"I don't know how to dress. I don't how to walk or talk or—" She threw her hands up in the air. "Anything but basketball — big deal."
"In a few years, a girl who knows basketball is going to be a good thing to be."
"Why?"
"Boys like basketball."
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Boys are dumb."
"Sounds to me like you know quite a bit about being a girl already." At Charli's confused glance, Brooke continued. "'Boys are dumb' is the password for little girls' club. At least until you are twelve." Then it became 'boys are dreamy'.
Charli gave a wan smile. She understood that Brooke was kidding. For four, she was very intuitive.
Charli sighed. "But I still don't have anything to wear."
Though Brooke didn't want Charli dressing like all the other girls, she understood her need to fit in, and with that she could help — even to a girl at a young age.
"We can put something together that'll work."
"We can?"
"You bet. That's why you called me." Brooke shook her fistful of ribbons. "These aren't just for hair anymore."
"What?"
"Put on your favourite jeans."
Charli dug through the pile on her bed and found a slightly threaded pair. Though Brooke wanted her to choose again, she didn't. People paid good money to buy jeans that scuffed up.
Brooke turned around while Charli slipped them on, then she held up the lengths of ribbon next to Charli's face. It was never too early to begin coordinating colours with your skin tone. "You should wear bright colours like red, purple and orange. Forget pink."
"No problem," Charli muttered.
Brooke withdrew two long red ribbons from the cache then chose a purple one. She threaded them both through the belt loops of the jeans, tied them in a big knot and let the end flow down. "What do you think?"
Charli's answer was a grin.
"Do you have a white t-shirt?"
The girl pulled one out of her closet and put it on. Brooke rolled up the cuffs to just below her elbows then tied the tails into a knot at the waist. To cap off the ensemble, she braided more colourful ribbons and wrapped them around Charli's right wrist.
"One more thing," Brooke said, grabbing the hair brush from Charli's night stand and brushing Charli's blonde locks effortlessly before she lifted her hair up and placed a red ribbon at the nape of her neck and wrapped it around to the top of her head where she tied a bow to secure it adequately.
"Wow. Thanks, Ms. Davis," Charli breathed.
"Call me Brooke."
The phone rang; Charli answered. The joy on her face faded and Brooke took a step forward, worried there'd been an accident.
Charli waved her off then took a deep breath.
"No, my dad won't be helping because I'm not going to the picnic this year. Bye." And before the woman on the other line could respond, Charli had hung up the phone.
"You're not going to a picnic?" Brooke asked, trying to collect her confusion together to form a question. She knew she was butting in but she just couldn't help herself. It was something that she had become accustomed to after the many years she had often meddled into her friends' life. She just had a knack for it.
"Nope." Charli shook her head, looking at herself in the mirror.
"But a picnic sounds like fun. Are you sure you don't want to go?
Charli stared at herself in the mirror, her brows creasing in frustration. "Uh-huh, 'cause it's a picnic for mommies and my mommy has gone away, so I can't go."
Charli ran out of the room, with Brooke trailing behind her until she reached a bedroom down the hall that obviously belonged to her dad. Walking into the room, she found Charli perched beside the queen sized bed with a photo in her hand. Charli looked up from the photo and saw Brooke coming towards her. She dropped to the floor and knelt down beside her so that she was at her eye level.
Brooke felt her heart drop in agony for the child. At hearing the words come out of her mouth, she just wanted to pick up the little girl and cuddle her and tell her that everything would be okay but she couldn't do that. She couldn't make such a big promise to a small child and reassure herself that it was going to be okay when she wasn't sure herself that it would be. She couldn't break her delicate heart again, especially when it was visibly clear that she already had her heart broken once before.
She glimpsed to the small wooden frame which held a photo portrait of Charli and a woman with blonde curly hair who was broadly smiling as she engulfed Charli in a hug. Brooke took note that the woman was obviously her mother, not by the fact that they were in the picture together but by the notion that notwithstanding the lack of curly hair, Charli was a dead ringer for her mother.
"Where's mommy, sweetheart?" Brooke asked tenderly in a soothing tone, obviously aware of how the question she let fill the air could go in either a good or bad way.
Charli's eyes dropped down towards the picture in the frame. "Daddy says that mommy is up in heaven," she said quietly, running her small fingers over the frame. "And that mommy is watching over me like my guardian angel." She looked back to Brooke. "Do you think she is?" As she asked, her eyes looked as though they were full of trepidation and hope without her knowing the definitions to the words.
Brooke grinned back and no longer could contain herself for what she was about to do next; she draped her arm around Charli's tiny waist and pulled her closer towards her as she planted a kiss on her forehead to comfort the child. "Honey, I'm sure your mommy is watching over you and that she'd be extremely proud of you," Brooke replied, letting go of Charli. "And you know what?"
"What?" Charli asked, turning to look at Brooke with eagerness.
Brooke leaned in to her. "You even look like your mom," she said in a raucous tone to her voice.
"That's what daddy says."
"Well, he's right, because you do," Brooke responded. "But, I think you should go to the picnic because you're going to have a lot of fun."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah," Brooke nodded. "You'll eat, play with your friends and do lots of other fun stuff. And I'm sure that your mom will be watching you and your dad from heaven to make sure you're both having fun."
"OK, I will tell daddy we're going on a picnic. Will you come too?" she asked Brooke, sounding much happier now that she had been reassured about her mother watching over to protect her.
Brooke wasn't sure what she should say. She was glad to help Charli out with her style and dilemma to go to the picnic, but her going to the picnic? She just wasn't sure she should get anymore involved with Charli and her dad than she already was. She had already put herself in the middle; did she really want to push herself further in the middle? Then again, she also didn't want to break Charli's heart anymore than it already had been. She was stumped. What was she to do?
Before Brooke could respond with an answer, Charli stood up from her sitting position on the floor and reached for the cordless phone that held its spot on the bedside table near the bed. Giving it to Brooke, she said proudly, "You can help plan it. It's going to be awesome." Knowing all too well how to work a phone that didn't puzzle Brooke in the slightest, Charli pressed the redial button and then thrusted the phone at Brooke as she jumped up on to the bed and sprawled herself out.
Brooke took the phone with an uneasy wave of reluctance as though she was being set upon and had no way of saying no and risk disappointing the little girl but at the same time, Brooke also found herself looking forward to planning such a picnic and spending more time with Charli—something she didn't think she'd end up doing after today.
While Brooke spoke to Mrs. Wainwrights, the woman in charge of the picnic, Charli jumped off the bed and headed to the living room in favour of the television set.
They were saying their goodbyes when Brooke had an impulsive thought to ask if her daughter Danielle took ballet lessons. She did and so Brooke asked to have the phone number and as soon as she hung up from her, she dialled Amy's School of Ballet and registered Charli for her first class. Now she just needed to confer with Lucas and hope that he would be alright with everything that was planned.
