Hi all :) Thank you SO MUCH for all the reviews on the past two chapters! I am so so excited that you all love this story, and I can't even tell you how much your comments made me smile! I hope you enjoy this next chapter, too!
Chapter 11,
The new shipments had been ordered and the Chinese food had been eaten. After lunch, Brooke had confirmed with the food and beverage vendors herself, even though Cara assured he she was also going to do it. Millie had spent the morning and early afternoon working on coordinating the press for the event, and all the final details seemed to be falling into place.
In two days, the clothes would be here and the real setup would begin, but for now, Brooke was allowing herself to take a break from the stress of the opening.
She sat down at the big white desk in the center of the large room, and pulled out her favorite sketch pad and a fresh package of colored pencils. Sketching designs had always been her favorite escape from stress.
When her love life was in shambles, when her temporary foster daughter was sent back to her parents after her open heart surgery, when her supposedly permanent foster daughter chose to go back to the mother that abandoned her, and when her love life was in further shambles, designing clothes had been her escape.
Some her most famous pieces, some of her absolute best work had sprouted from the heartbreak of those days.
And so, with the first Chicago store opening, Victoria trying to ruin everything, and Xavier Daniels being released from prison and hiding out god knows where?
She figured these pieces were likely going to be pretty damn good.
Except as she began sketching her first design, she realized she was struggling to focus. It was like she could feel Jay's eyes on her back, staring at her.
He has to stare, she thought. That's his job.
She tried to push the thoughts of him out of her head, and forced herself to focus for the next few hours. The winter was slowly coming to an end, with the first few flowers finally sprouting and growing against the mild air. By the time the flowers were in full bloom, her Fall line needed to be complete.
Brooke finally lost herself in her work, drawing and crafting dresses that she would later pair with jackets. She had already decided that this fall, the Clothes over Bros jacket game would need to be strong. The deep magenta dress she was currently working on would look perfect paired with a dark brown leather jacket and matching brown booties. Or maybe a suede jacket, she thought, as she continued to sketch the fitted bodice of the dress. She hadn't chosen a fabric for the dress, but she was already loving the boldness of the color.
She was so engrossed in her sketching, she didn't hear the footsteps behind her, and she jumped at the sound of her name. "Wow, Brooke," Jay said, and she noticed that he was standing only about a foot behind her. "These are great." He was looking over her shoulder at the four completed pieces sprawled across the desk. "You're really talented."
He wanted to kick himself for that last statement. Of course she was talented. She was fucking Brooke Davis. She had an entire clothing line that she built from the ground up, based solely on her unique talent and her amazing designs.
"Don't sound so surprised," she said immediately, a smirk resting on her beautiful lips. He was relieved at her tone, he could tell she wasn't actually insulted.
He decided to tease her back, hoping he could elicit a laugh. He had heard her laugh once over lunch, and it was throaty and deep and amazing, and he really wanted to hear that sound again. "I don't know, I just assumed your job was to pose for magazine covers and look pretty," he gestured towards the framed B. Davis magazine covers that were propped against the wall, not yet hung up. She was on the cover of almost half of them.
He wasn't rewarded with a laugh, but he did get a very sultry smile. "So you think I'm pretty?"
When looks of shock and embarrassment immediately graced his face, Brooke realized that Jay didn't actually know her that well yet. They had started off on the completely the wrong foot, and then they had shifted right into very serious conversation territory, and they had skipped everything in between.
He didn't know that she was quite the flirt when she wanted to be.
She decided to stand and touch his arm playfully, "You don't have to answer that," she said. Then with her hand still on his forearm, she leaned close to him, and whispered slowly in his ear. "You can just tell me tonight."
Then she turned, putting a little extra sway in her hips, knowing he'd be watching her walk away.
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He knew he was staring. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He probably shouldn't have even walked over in the first place, but he just wanted to get a look at what she had been working on so furiously for the last two hours.
Her focus was astonishing.
And so he moved to see what she was doing.
And then he got a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, bringing him back to the present. "Halstead," he almost choked his own name into the phone. He hadn't realized his mouth was so dry.
"The case with the Commander's nephew is done," Voight's gruff voice came through the line and snapped Jay back into attention.
"Oh, that's great," He peered down at his watch, seeing it was already almost 5 pm. "So what's the plan?"
In lieu of an answer, he just said, "Let me talk to Brooke."
When Jay looked up, Brooke was just walking back into the room from the back closet. She was looking down at the three different pieces of fabric in her hands, all slightly different shades of what he considered to be a red-purple color. "Brooke," Jay called her name, and she smiled when her eyes found his.
Her smile caused him to momentarily forget what he needed to say, and the moment stretched until she was standing in front of him.
She motioned towards the phone, and he handed it to her dumbly. "It's Voight," he said, trying to recover. "He wants to talk to you."
"Oh, thanks," she said, taking the phone out of his hand.
And when she turned to walk away, and he found himself staring once again.
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"What's up, Hank?" Brooke asked nervously into the receiver, as she placed the three fabric choices onto the wooden table on the side of the room.
"Hey, kid, listen," He began, "We wrapped up the case here, and we are going to go back to focusing on Xavier."
Before she could answer, he continued. "But my team got no sleep last night, and I want them to be focused and awake when they're working on your case."
"Sure," she dragged out the word like a question, unsure of where he was going with this.
"So if it's okay with you, I'd like to send my team home for the night, and we'll pick your case back up in the morning."
Before she could answer once again, he continued. She was actually surprised, Hank was usually a man of very few words. "If that makes you uncomfortable, then we'll work through the night. Everyone here is game. It's your call."
She answered right away, no question in her mind. "Hank, send everyone home. It's fine. More than fine, really." She was flattered that the team was willing to go so far out of their way to help her put this behind her quickly, but for some reason she didn't really feel the need to rush.
Sleeping in Jay's arms last night, having Jay stand guard at her office door all day, she had never felt more safe. She really was more than fine with this arrangement.
"Okay, kid," he said, but after a pause, he added. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure," she confirmed, without a second thought.
"Okay, well, I'll send Jay back to your apartment with you to pick up some clothes, and then you and Millicent can stay with me tonight."
Her heart sank at his words. For some reason, she had let herself believe that she would be spending another night on the couch, resting comfortably in Jay's strong arms. That had been what she meant when she said she was more than fine with this arrangement.
"Can you work out of the district again tomorrow?" Hank's voice interrupted her mental pity party, and she considered his question.
"Yes, absolutely," she said, brightening considerably.
At least this way, she'd get to see Jay tomorrow.
"Great," he said, before asking to be transferred back to Jay.
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"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE BROOKE DAVIS!" The three of them were walking on the sidewalk downtown towards Jay's car when they were stopped by a group of college aged girls.
"Oh my god, oh my god!" The second girl shouted excitedly.
"Can we please have your autograph?" Asked a third girl.
Jay watched as Brooke smiled graciously at them, as she looked them in the eye when she asked each one of their names to put at the top of the autograph. He watched as she sincerely thanked them for recognizing and loving her clothes.
He was in awe of her. He was in actual awe of her. The three of them were on their way to Brooke's apartment so she could collect her clothes, so she could spend another night hiding away from a psycho stalker, and here she was, being genuine and kind to a group of complete strangers.
"Does that happen often?" He asked, when they finally stepped away from the gaggle of girls. The sun was slowly setting behind the clouds, and the night air was crisp and cool, and at this point, they were speed walking to the car.
Millie answered for her, "All the time."
Brooke just laughed, brushing it off like it wasn't that big of a deal, and shifted the topic to what they were going to eat for dinner that night.
But even as he slid into the car and turned on the ignition, even as he turned up the heat high enough to warm Brooke's bare legs, and even as he pulled out of his parking spot and pulled onto the main road, he was thinking about Millicent's words. All the time.
He wasn't sure why that thought unsettled him, but it did.
Maybe it was because he didn't like the idea of strangers constantly coming up to her? Maybe it was because he worried that she was always so exposed, that she would never be able to blend seamlessly into a crowd?
Neither of those felt right, though, so he forced himself to push the unsettled thoughts away.
But they came back full force when she opened the door to her penthouse apartment.
Holy shit, he thought, as the three of them stepped inside.
The apartment was massive. The ceiling were high, making the already large apartment feel even larger. The wooden floors gleamed, the chandeliers and light fixtures shined, and even the stacked cardboard moving boxes that lined the walls didn't take away from the clear fanciness of the place.
And that wasn't even the part that struck him upon his entry.
What truly astonished him about the apartment was the views.
The entire back wall of the apartment was floor to ceiling windows, and the view of the city skyline was spectacular.
And all of a sudden, as he stood their surrounded by so much grandeur, he realized why he was feeling so unsettled.
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When Jay got to work the next morning, Brooke was already there. Millie was in the break room, behind closed doors, clearly deep in conversation with someone on the other end of the phone.
Hank was seated in his office, the wooden door opened only slightly, looking like he was already busy with work.
And Brooke was at her desk, sketching furiously, in an otherwise empty bullpen.
When Jay slipped off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair, he looked up and caught Brooke's eyes. "Hi," he said, quietly. "How was your night?"
"Good," she replied quickly, with no semblance of a smile. She then immediately averted her gaze back to her sketches, but she didn't move the pencil resting in her hand.
Even without her avoiding his gaze, he had recognized right away that she was lying.
She looked exhausted. Even with the makeup she had likely applied, he could see the weariness in her eyes, in her movements. She looked like she hadn't slept a wink the whole night.
She still looked beautiful, of course, but even her beauty couldn't hide the exhaustion.
Instead of sitting at his own desk, he walked across to hers. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Not really," she shrugged her shoulders as if to say this wasn't a surprise.
It wasn't of course. Not sleeping a wink had become normal to her, ever since she walked to the front of her apartment and saw the first letter tucked under her door. But for some reason, she was much more exhausted this morning than any other morning.
Actually, it wasn't for some reason. She knew exactly the reason.
It was because the night she spent at Jay's was the best night sleep she had gotten in months. Even before everything that happened with Xavier, she had been traveling and stressed over the move, and she hadn't gotten a solid night sleep in a long time.
Her body must have been reminded how much she actually needed sleep, how wonderful it was to close your eyes and sleep solidly, not opening them again until the morning. Her body had been skating by not realizing what it was missing. And now that her body knew, it was craving another night's sleep.
It was craving another night in Jay's arms.
When he didn't answer her, she finally looked up. As she held his gaze and looked into his soft blue eyes, she noticed he looked tired, too. "Did you sleep?" She asked, repeating the question right back to him.
"Not really," he replied, in the exact same way she had.
She gave him a sad, knowing smile, and right away he knew she assumed he hadn't slept because he was thinking of the war. Because his brain had been full of the men he had lost overseas, the friends and families of the men who hadn't made it back.
Because that's what he had told her only two nights before.
Back when that had been the thing keeping him up at night.
And so he decided not to correct her, not to let her know that that wasn't it at all.
He hadn't slept because he had been tossing and turning and thinking of her. He had been thinking about her smile, her laugh.
He had been thinking about how much he wanted her.
How he knew he would never have her.
Brooke Davis was famous, famous. Like dressed A-list actresses, showed her pieces in New York Fashion Week, could get a table at any restaurant she wanted, gets randomly stopped on the street for autographs famous.
And when this case was over, and she went back to her glamorous life, it wouldn't matter that she was also genuine and kind and different from what he had expected.
She would always be famous.
And she would always be out of his league.
At a very low point, around 2 am, he had pulled his laptop off his night table and googled her. As promised, he didn't google her history with Xavier. He didn't google her attack, or the subsequent rescue. He didn't google her childhood. He didn't google her name combined with Hank Voight to finally see what that was all about.
Instead, he found himself on the 'Who's Dated Who' celebrity dating website.
He hated himself even as he typed in her name. But he couldn't stop as he clicked through the pages.
She had been reportedly seen with so many celebrities, the least famous of all being Lucas Scott, and even he had published two best-selling novels.
But then there had also been two NBA basketball players, a movie producer, a singer, a few actors, and a model.
Jay was a detective.
Brooke was a celebrity.
A fucking gorgeous celebrity.
A fucking gorgeous celebrity who lived in a fucking penthouse apartment overlooking the entire Chicago city skyline.
After walking on the arm offamous, very attractive celebrities, he couldn't imagine she'd be eager to walk on the arm of a former Ranger turned seriously damaged detective.
God. She was so fucking out of his league.
And so, he hadn't slept. He had tossed and turned all night, thinking of the way she had touched his arm and whispered flirtatiously into his ear, the way her hips swayed slightly as she walked, thinking of her smile.
He thought of her beautiful smile, and the way it had seemed to almost light up today when she looked at him. Her face had lit up at him.
But for some reason, that thought didn't help.
Instead, thinking about that broke his heart more than any of the rest of it.
Because, he knew, it was going to hurt that much more now when it was gone.
xoxo
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