Chapter 6:
Brady stood at the stone walkway near the entrance of Tuscany. His family and Chloe were having dinner there right now but he'd called Belle to send his apologies. He'd changed his mind at the last minute and decided he would go in but he couldn't bring himself to. That kind of atmosphere was not what he needed right now. He'd just moved back to Salem a little over a week ago and he still hadn't adjusted fully to being here. It felt good to see his sister, his father, his stepmother and Shawn. He'd even seen Bo and Hope this week and Mickey and Maggie. But he wasn't ready to pretend he was fine with living here. There was all this pressure. I mean he was pushing on thirty in a few years and it scared the hell out of him. So here he stood, a bottle of vodka in his hand, as he thought about this afternoon in his office.
His father had lied and said he was engaged. How the hell was he supposed to handle that situation? And he was sure that the situation would need handling too. He was sure that this "little white lie" would spawn a whole web of lies as they often do. Just look at his situation with Patricia. She had lied to him time and time again, Brady realized, as he walked in on her together with his best friend. Nothing had hurt worse than that. Nothing. His whole world had fallen apart. And though he was angry and hurt, he was more embarrassed than anything. He'd given his heart and thought he had hers in return. What a pathetic lovesick fool he was: always making her stuff and making googly eyes at her, and always wanting to hold hand, be near her. Ugh, he was such a needy loser. Women didn't want nice guys. They always finish last. He'd found that out pretty quickly. So to hell with everything. He took a swig of vodka and listened to quiet of the night. ****************************
Chloe sat having dinner with John and Marlena Black and Belle and Shawn Brady. And though she was close to all of them, she couldn't help but feel like a giant fifth wheel. The looks of pure pity on their faces had made her want to run out of there screaming at the top of her lungs. "Yes, I love the show." Chloe smiled and nodded, pretending to be interested in the conversation everyone at the table seemed to be engrossed in. "Look, it's getting late and the end of the month reports have to be done for 'Sweet Bar' so I'm going to head out." Laughing off, all the protests to her leaving she hugged everyone goodbye and walked to the exit. That's when she saw him. He had his arm around that woman again.
Philip and Cynthia walked through the entrance of Tuscany arm in arm. He sighed miserably as Cynthia chatted on about something or another. His eyes bugged out in surprise when they met Chloe's. "Chloe."
"Son of a b&tch." Feeling tears welling up in her eyes and her lip beginning to quiver, she pushed past them both and ran outside in to the cool August air.
"Philip, don't you dare go after her," Cynthia pulled him back as he attempted to follow Chloe out the doors. "She's a big girl."
Sobs erupted from Chloe's throat as she ran along the stone walkway. How could Philip have done this to her? Wasn't it just yesterday that he was telling her how sorry he was and that this "fling" with Cynthia was over? Damn him to hell. She stomped along the walkway to the side of the building. When she thought she was alone, she stopped and cried quietly as she looked out on the starry night. Her life was a complete mess. This night couldn't get any worse. Oh, how wrong she was.
"Hey Diva," the voice came from behind, causing Chloe to whirl around in surprise. Brady sat leisurely on a steel bench placed before a row of square-cut bushes.
"What are you doing here," she bit out shakily as she wiped the tears from her face. She noticed he called her Diva like the other morning but it sounded as if his mouth was full of something. She walked over to him slowly, seeing the bottle of vodka in his hands. "You've been drinking." She took a step back, not knowing quite what to expect from him.
"I was sitting here thinking," he slurred out.
"That's a first," Chloe smiled at her joke, amazed she even had the energy to joke about anything after seeing Philip in Tuscany like that. But there was just something about Brady that made her [i]want[/i] to fight and it unnerved her as well as annoyed her.
"I wish I was back in New York," he said quietly.
"Why?" Genuinely curious, she took a step toward him. His voice sounded so childlike, like a lost little boy. 'Whoa, hold on there Chloe,' she thought to herself. 'He's a jerk. You know that. He's not capable of real human feelings.'
"Because there's always so much going on. So many people everywhere you're never alone with your thoughts long enough to think. Here-out here. especially tonight-it's so quiet." He paused. "And so I have to think. I have to remember. I've been running from my feelings and thoughts for so long. In New York, there were so many distractions, so much noise, that I didn't have to remember. I could forget."
Chloe could see he was beginning to ramble. She knew he was talking about Patricia and what had happened. So, he'd gotten himself drunk and now he sat. Chloe figured she ought to get him out of here and home safely, not that she cared what, if anything, would happen to him. It was for Belle's sake and John and Marlena. She had to see him home safely because as much as she detested this jerk, tonight she could also empathize with him. It frightened her, looking at him. He was still hurting, after three long years of being apart from Patricia. Would she still feel that way about Philip three years from now? She wondered. Honestly, she didn't know. She had never wanted to be tied down, never wanted to be married. It seemed as if Brady had genuinely loved this Patricia woman, so much so that he had wanted to spend his life loving her, fighting with her, struggling with her. Chloe wasn't even sure if she ever would want that kind of life, love or not. Sighing, she joined Brady on the bench and put his arm around her shoulder so she could hoist him up.
"Hey Chloe," he said as he looked into her eyes, a slight smile on his lips.
"Hey. Brady."
"You're so pretty, Chloe." His smile grew as they walked toward a taxi.
"Umm.thanks." They flopped into the cab and Chloe pulled Brady's arm from around her shoulder as he looked at her dreamily.
"You've got pretty eyes and nice teeth. I like your teeth. You've got a good set of teeth on you.in you.on." He shook his head trying to get his thoughts straight.
"What about Patricia?" She glanced up at him, trying to gauge his reaction to hearing Patricia's name in his current drunken state.
"Patricia who?" He looked at her in confusion.
"Your ex-fiancée."
"She had nice teeth too," he said with a far off look in his eyes. "Ugh, she's an old fart. like Philip. I like you Chloe." He pouted.
"No, you don't."
"No, I do. I really do." A smile grew upon his lips. "You're a foxy lady." He arched an eyebrow at her.
"And you're drunk." Chloe couldn't help but smile. Boy, would she love to rub this flirty behavior in a sober Brady's face. She grew serious again. Thoughtfully, she turned to look out the window and turned back watching him look out of his own window and take a swig of vodka. "So you really think Philip's an old fart huh?"
He turned to look at her, and did not hesitate. "Absolutely."
"I'll take some of that." She reached for the bottle and took a drink, Brady watching her intently. He laughed when she began to cough and catch her breath. "Strong stuff," she breathed out.
"Oh please," he snorted and snatched the bottle back.
"What?" She tried to get the bottle back but he held it away from her.
"There's nothing more pitiful than a grown woman who can't hold her own liquor." He took another swallow.
"I'll have you know I was declared Vodka Queen my junior year in college thank you very much, not that that's anything to be proud of. Drinking is a disgusting habit." She took the bottle back from him and took a drink, causing her to hack and cough again. "Ugh, that's awful," she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her shirt.
He rolled his eyes and took the bottle back. "Come on Chloe, be a man. Suck it up. Let's paint the town.whatever the hell color people paint towns.or are you chicken?"
"Where to?" The cabby asked over his shoulder.
Chloe thought for a minute knowing getting drunk was not going to solve her problems, it would only make them worse. But tonight, she didn't care. Tonight, she wanted to forget. Plus, Brady murmuring 'boc,boc' under his breath decided it for her. 'What an ass.' "The Blue Note and step on it." ********************
The Next Morning.
Sunlight streamed through the window, cajoling Chloe from a peaceful slumber, probably the most peaceful slumber she'd had in years. She groaned in protest as the warm rays of the sun beat mercilessly against her tired eyelids. "Mmm," she moaned, trying unsuccessfully to open her eyes. 'Ugh.' She was suddenly aware of how her head hurt and the rhythmic pounding in her ears. Oh, but she was so tired. She had to keep her eyes closed, keep out that blasted sunlight. She didn't even have the energy to pull her blanket over her head. Maybe she should just go back to sleep she reasoned, but that continuous thumping in her ears continued. Ugh, what was she thinking going out last night and getting drunk with Brady? The Jell-O shots, the cranberry chasers, tequila.Brady!? Her eyes open with a start as she realized exactly what that beating was. 'Oh, God, please no,' she silently prayed as she looked up and saw his sleeping face as he quietly snored. Her head was on Brady's bare chest, her ear directly over his heart. "Oh no," she wailed removing her arms that had been wrapped around Brady's waist.
Brady shot out of bed and with a loud thump dropped onto the hard floor. "What the hell," he could be heard muttering behind the side of the bed.
"Oh no," she cried again as she stood from the bed wrapping the thin sheet around her.
Brady peered at her, wide eyed, still on the floor at the side of the bed. Slowly he stood, his eyes shocked. "What the hell happened?" He looked panicked.
"You tell me," she looked at him, disgust plastered on her face. She suddenly couldn't meet his gaze. "Umm.you may want to put something on." She cleared her throat.
Still wide-eyed, Brady looked down at his naked form before blushing profusely. He had had plenty of one-night stands in the last three years but he had usually remembered them. Plus, this was his sister's best friend and that was just not right. "Umm.yeah?" He looked around the room for his boxers. Ugh, his head was pounding. What had they done last night? The last thing he remembered clearly was getting kicked out of the Blue Note, although he didn't remember how he had gotten there.
It was then that Chloe noticed that they were in her bedroom in her apartment and it was a mess. What had they done last night!? She looked directly up and gasped. "Umm.Brady they're." She pointed up to the spinning ceiling fan and his boxers that hung loosely on one of the blades. She turned away as he stood on the bed and grabbed the boxers, pulling them on and jumping down back onto the floor.
"Okay, I'm decent." He laughed as she turned around to glare at him.
"You're disgusting." She sneered at him and went to pick up his clothes that were scattered across the room with one hand, her other holding tightly to the sheet that covered her. "You need to leave."
"So soon," he muttered dropping back onto the bed, and rubbing his face in his hands. This was quite a hangover.
"Now!" She threw his clothes at him.
"Okay, okay," he groaned as he picked up his clothes and began getting dressed. He pulled his pants on and watched Chloe cry quietly as she sunk down onto her bed.
"Chloe," he reached for her.
"Don't touch me!" She flinched away from his touch as if he was the most disgusting piece of crap she'd ever seen.
"Fine!" Brady had had enough of trying to be Mr. Sensitive and Caring. It always ended biting him in the ass, so to speak he realized as he noticed Chloe must have bitten him in quite a few places during their sexual escapade last night. He was so sore. Resignedly, he was leaving the room when something taped to her dresser mirror caught his eye. "Uh oh," he muttered under his breath, not liking this one bit. He pulled the piece of paper down and studied it carefully before turning to an expectant Chloe.
"What?" Chloe bit out through tears as she looked at him, wondering how this situation could possibly get any worse.
"It's a certificate," Brady said simply, not sure he could get the rest out, knowing she wouldn't believe it, him hardly believing it himself.
"Of what," Chloe asked, completely clueless. When he remained silent, obviously transfixed on that stupid piece of paper, she pushed on. "Of what, Brady?" She stood from the bed, keeping the sheet wrapped firmly around her.
Still not looking at her, "It's a certificate." Slowly, he brought his weary gaze to hers. "A certificate of marriage."
Brady stood at the stone walkway near the entrance of Tuscany. His family and Chloe were having dinner there right now but he'd called Belle to send his apologies. He'd changed his mind at the last minute and decided he would go in but he couldn't bring himself to. That kind of atmosphere was not what he needed right now. He'd just moved back to Salem a little over a week ago and he still hadn't adjusted fully to being here. It felt good to see his sister, his father, his stepmother and Shawn. He'd even seen Bo and Hope this week and Mickey and Maggie. But he wasn't ready to pretend he was fine with living here. There was all this pressure. I mean he was pushing on thirty in a few years and it scared the hell out of him. So here he stood, a bottle of vodka in his hand, as he thought about this afternoon in his office.
His father had lied and said he was engaged. How the hell was he supposed to handle that situation? And he was sure that the situation would need handling too. He was sure that this "little white lie" would spawn a whole web of lies as they often do. Just look at his situation with Patricia. She had lied to him time and time again, Brady realized, as he walked in on her together with his best friend. Nothing had hurt worse than that. Nothing. His whole world had fallen apart. And though he was angry and hurt, he was more embarrassed than anything. He'd given his heart and thought he had hers in return. What a pathetic lovesick fool he was: always making her stuff and making googly eyes at her, and always wanting to hold hand, be near her. Ugh, he was such a needy loser. Women didn't want nice guys. They always finish last. He'd found that out pretty quickly. So to hell with everything. He took a swig of vodka and listened to quiet of the night. ****************************
Chloe sat having dinner with John and Marlena Black and Belle and Shawn Brady. And though she was close to all of them, she couldn't help but feel like a giant fifth wheel. The looks of pure pity on their faces had made her want to run out of there screaming at the top of her lungs. "Yes, I love the show." Chloe smiled and nodded, pretending to be interested in the conversation everyone at the table seemed to be engrossed in. "Look, it's getting late and the end of the month reports have to be done for 'Sweet Bar' so I'm going to head out." Laughing off, all the protests to her leaving she hugged everyone goodbye and walked to the exit. That's when she saw him. He had his arm around that woman again.
Philip and Cynthia walked through the entrance of Tuscany arm in arm. He sighed miserably as Cynthia chatted on about something or another. His eyes bugged out in surprise when they met Chloe's. "Chloe."
"Son of a b&tch." Feeling tears welling up in her eyes and her lip beginning to quiver, she pushed past them both and ran outside in to the cool August air.
"Philip, don't you dare go after her," Cynthia pulled him back as he attempted to follow Chloe out the doors. "She's a big girl."
Sobs erupted from Chloe's throat as she ran along the stone walkway. How could Philip have done this to her? Wasn't it just yesterday that he was telling her how sorry he was and that this "fling" with Cynthia was over? Damn him to hell. She stomped along the walkway to the side of the building. When she thought she was alone, she stopped and cried quietly as she looked out on the starry night. Her life was a complete mess. This night couldn't get any worse. Oh, how wrong she was.
"Hey Diva," the voice came from behind, causing Chloe to whirl around in surprise. Brady sat leisurely on a steel bench placed before a row of square-cut bushes.
"What are you doing here," she bit out shakily as she wiped the tears from her face. She noticed he called her Diva like the other morning but it sounded as if his mouth was full of something. She walked over to him slowly, seeing the bottle of vodka in his hands. "You've been drinking." She took a step back, not knowing quite what to expect from him.
"I was sitting here thinking," he slurred out.
"That's a first," Chloe smiled at her joke, amazed she even had the energy to joke about anything after seeing Philip in Tuscany like that. But there was just something about Brady that made her [i]want[/i] to fight and it unnerved her as well as annoyed her.
"I wish I was back in New York," he said quietly.
"Why?" Genuinely curious, she took a step toward him. His voice sounded so childlike, like a lost little boy. 'Whoa, hold on there Chloe,' she thought to herself. 'He's a jerk. You know that. He's not capable of real human feelings.'
"Because there's always so much going on. So many people everywhere you're never alone with your thoughts long enough to think. Here-out here. especially tonight-it's so quiet." He paused. "And so I have to think. I have to remember. I've been running from my feelings and thoughts for so long. In New York, there were so many distractions, so much noise, that I didn't have to remember. I could forget."
Chloe could see he was beginning to ramble. She knew he was talking about Patricia and what had happened. So, he'd gotten himself drunk and now he sat. Chloe figured she ought to get him out of here and home safely, not that she cared what, if anything, would happen to him. It was for Belle's sake and John and Marlena. She had to see him home safely because as much as she detested this jerk, tonight she could also empathize with him. It frightened her, looking at him. He was still hurting, after three long years of being apart from Patricia. Would she still feel that way about Philip three years from now? She wondered. Honestly, she didn't know. She had never wanted to be tied down, never wanted to be married. It seemed as if Brady had genuinely loved this Patricia woman, so much so that he had wanted to spend his life loving her, fighting with her, struggling with her. Chloe wasn't even sure if she ever would want that kind of life, love or not. Sighing, she joined Brady on the bench and put his arm around her shoulder so she could hoist him up.
"Hey Chloe," he said as he looked into her eyes, a slight smile on his lips.
"Hey. Brady."
"You're so pretty, Chloe." His smile grew as they walked toward a taxi.
"Umm.thanks." They flopped into the cab and Chloe pulled Brady's arm from around her shoulder as he looked at her dreamily.
"You've got pretty eyes and nice teeth. I like your teeth. You've got a good set of teeth on you.in you.on." He shook his head trying to get his thoughts straight.
"What about Patricia?" She glanced up at him, trying to gauge his reaction to hearing Patricia's name in his current drunken state.
"Patricia who?" He looked at her in confusion.
"Your ex-fiancée."
"She had nice teeth too," he said with a far off look in his eyes. "Ugh, she's an old fart. like Philip. I like you Chloe." He pouted.
"No, you don't."
"No, I do. I really do." A smile grew upon his lips. "You're a foxy lady." He arched an eyebrow at her.
"And you're drunk." Chloe couldn't help but smile. Boy, would she love to rub this flirty behavior in a sober Brady's face. She grew serious again. Thoughtfully, she turned to look out the window and turned back watching him look out of his own window and take a swig of vodka. "So you really think Philip's an old fart huh?"
He turned to look at her, and did not hesitate. "Absolutely."
"I'll take some of that." She reached for the bottle and took a drink, Brady watching her intently. He laughed when she began to cough and catch her breath. "Strong stuff," she breathed out.
"Oh please," he snorted and snatched the bottle back.
"What?" She tried to get the bottle back but he held it away from her.
"There's nothing more pitiful than a grown woman who can't hold her own liquor." He took another swallow.
"I'll have you know I was declared Vodka Queen my junior year in college thank you very much, not that that's anything to be proud of. Drinking is a disgusting habit." She took the bottle back from him and took a drink, causing her to hack and cough again. "Ugh, that's awful," she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her shirt.
He rolled his eyes and took the bottle back. "Come on Chloe, be a man. Suck it up. Let's paint the town.whatever the hell color people paint towns.or are you chicken?"
"Where to?" The cabby asked over his shoulder.
Chloe thought for a minute knowing getting drunk was not going to solve her problems, it would only make them worse. But tonight, she didn't care. Tonight, she wanted to forget. Plus, Brady murmuring 'boc,boc' under his breath decided it for her. 'What an ass.' "The Blue Note and step on it." ********************
The Next Morning.
Sunlight streamed through the window, cajoling Chloe from a peaceful slumber, probably the most peaceful slumber she'd had in years. She groaned in protest as the warm rays of the sun beat mercilessly against her tired eyelids. "Mmm," she moaned, trying unsuccessfully to open her eyes. 'Ugh.' She was suddenly aware of how her head hurt and the rhythmic pounding in her ears. Oh, but she was so tired. She had to keep her eyes closed, keep out that blasted sunlight. She didn't even have the energy to pull her blanket over her head. Maybe she should just go back to sleep she reasoned, but that continuous thumping in her ears continued. Ugh, what was she thinking going out last night and getting drunk with Brady? The Jell-O shots, the cranberry chasers, tequila.Brady!? Her eyes open with a start as she realized exactly what that beating was. 'Oh, God, please no,' she silently prayed as she looked up and saw his sleeping face as he quietly snored. Her head was on Brady's bare chest, her ear directly over his heart. "Oh no," she wailed removing her arms that had been wrapped around Brady's waist.
Brady shot out of bed and with a loud thump dropped onto the hard floor. "What the hell," he could be heard muttering behind the side of the bed.
"Oh no," she cried again as she stood from the bed wrapping the thin sheet around her.
Brady peered at her, wide eyed, still on the floor at the side of the bed. Slowly he stood, his eyes shocked. "What the hell happened?" He looked panicked.
"You tell me," she looked at him, disgust plastered on her face. She suddenly couldn't meet his gaze. "Umm.you may want to put something on." She cleared her throat.
Still wide-eyed, Brady looked down at his naked form before blushing profusely. He had had plenty of one-night stands in the last three years but he had usually remembered them. Plus, this was his sister's best friend and that was just not right. "Umm.yeah?" He looked around the room for his boxers. Ugh, his head was pounding. What had they done last night? The last thing he remembered clearly was getting kicked out of the Blue Note, although he didn't remember how he had gotten there.
It was then that Chloe noticed that they were in her bedroom in her apartment and it was a mess. What had they done last night!? She looked directly up and gasped. "Umm.Brady they're." She pointed up to the spinning ceiling fan and his boxers that hung loosely on one of the blades. She turned away as he stood on the bed and grabbed the boxers, pulling them on and jumping down back onto the floor.
"Okay, I'm decent." He laughed as she turned around to glare at him.
"You're disgusting." She sneered at him and went to pick up his clothes that were scattered across the room with one hand, her other holding tightly to the sheet that covered her. "You need to leave."
"So soon," he muttered dropping back onto the bed, and rubbing his face in his hands. This was quite a hangover.
"Now!" She threw his clothes at him.
"Okay, okay," he groaned as he picked up his clothes and began getting dressed. He pulled his pants on and watched Chloe cry quietly as she sunk down onto her bed.
"Chloe," he reached for her.
"Don't touch me!" She flinched away from his touch as if he was the most disgusting piece of crap she'd ever seen.
"Fine!" Brady had had enough of trying to be Mr. Sensitive and Caring. It always ended biting him in the ass, so to speak he realized as he noticed Chloe must have bitten him in quite a few places during their sexual escapade last night. He was so sore. Resignedly, he was leaving the room when something taped to her dresser mirror caught his eye. "Uh oh," he muttered under his breath, not liking this one bit. He pulled the piece of paper down and studied it carefully before turning to an expectant Chloe.
"What?" Chloe bit out through tears as she looked at him, wondering how this situation could possibly get any worse.
"It's a certificate," Brady said simply, not sure he could get the rest out, knowing she wouldn't believe it, him hardly believing it himself.
"Of what," Chloe asked, completely clueless. When he remained silent, obviously transfixed on that stupid piece of paper, she pushed on. "Of what, Brady?" She stood from the bed, keeping the sheet wrapped firmly around her.
Still not looking at her, "It's a certificate." Slowly, he brought his weary gaze to hers. "A certificate of marriage."