The timid assistant walked into her boss's office. It was a war zone. Fabric samples lay strewn across the mahogany desk.Designs had been ripped up and tossed carelessly in the direction of the trash, none of them making it. The assistant looked around for a bit, but saw no sign of human life. "Umm M..Ms Davis?" she called.
"Under here," came the muffled reply. The assistant walked to the desk and looked down. There, curled into the two by three foot space, sat all five foot six of her boss.
"What are you doing down here?" the assistant asked. Brooke got angry at that, she stood up quickly, almost hitting her head on the underside of the desk.
"I was trying to hide from the fact that I am a total failure."
"That's not…"
"Look at this!" One design that had survived the mass headed for the trash was snatched up from the desk.
The assistant looked at the design that was shoved in her face. "Well it's nice…"
"Nice? Crap is more like it." And then the design was crumpled into a ball and thrown to join its friends on the floor. "So if I want my fashion line to be called Crap over Bros we're in good shape." Brooke threw tantrums like this regularly but that didn't make the assistant any less scared of them. She never knew what to say that would soothe the savage beast that was Brooke when she was in a rut.
"What is your fat ass complaining about now?" a voice asked from the doorway. Brooke looked up to see Rachel Gattina stroll in, red hair swinging behind her.
"How these clothes are so crappy that not even skanky bitches like you would wear them." Brooke took a few steps toward Rachel, arms crossed. The two girls stared daggers at each other. At the same moment, the two girls broke into smiles. Brooke rushed to Rachel and threw her arms around her. "I thought you said you'd be here an hour ago."
When Brooke had moved out to LA five years ago, she immediately hit the pavement in an attempt to get her designs out there. And she had. A mere six months later, 'Clothes Over Bros' was a successful clothing line selling out in stores across the LA area. But Brooke wanted more, so she threw herself into her work even harder. It wasn't like she had anything else to deal with. No boyfriend, no friends, no family. But the hard work paid off, Brooke Davis became a household name and designer to the stars. She had a successful fashion magazine and her fashion shows always sold out. It was while she was picking models for one of these shows that she came across Rachel. Rachel had moved out to LA in an attempt to become a model. Brooke was hesitant to allow Rachel to work for her, but her shots were fabulous and Brooke knew that she would be an excellent commodity. So Rachel began to work for Brooke. At the beginning they constantly bickered as they had in high school, but as they spent more time with each other they learned that there was more than meets the eye. And though they still occasionally reverted to their high school, name calling around each other the two had become close friends.
"You know I've got a job. I can't constantly come down here when you have one of these fits," Rachel scolded Brooke as she pulled back.
"Oh come on are you telling me that you can't ditch a photo shoot for my magazine to come see me?"
"Good point. So what is it that you need?"
"I need you to take me out for coffee. I can't sit here and design another piece of crap." Brooke put her hand to her head in frustration. Rachel bent to pick up the nearest crumpled design.
"You're right. This is crap. We need to get you that coffee ASAP before you lose your job." Brooke smiled.
"Aww you really care about me, you softie."
"Not really. The way I see it, you lose your job and I lose my highest paying gig." Brooke smacked Rachel's arm. "Come on oh sucky designer." Rachel put an arm around Brooke's shoulders and the two girls walked out of the office.
"So I was thinking I'd lower the hem a little bit in the back. And then I'd tighten up the top." Brooke's pencil scratched frantically on the napkin. Rachel's eyes rolled.
"I thought you said you needed a break from designing crap."
"Hey, this is not crap," Brooke defended her newest creation. Rachel looked down at the napkin.
"I'll admit, even skanky bitches like me would wear it." The two girls laughed. "But why are you designing? Shouldn't you be enjoying your time with me?"
"I can't control when these things come to me and I've got to get it out on paper, otherwise I'll forget." Some more scratches of the pencil.
"But you haven't seen me in over a week and I've got news." Brooke tore her eyes from her napkin and looked to her friend. Rachel took a sip of her coffee casually.
"Fine, I'm putting the pencil down." Brooke set the pencil down and picked up her coffee, leaning back in her chair. "So what's your news?"
"I met a guy."
"Sorry Rach, that's not really news for you. Unless you mean daily news."
"No no he's different."
"Isn't that what you said about the last guy, and the guy before that? And the guy before that. And the guy before that," Brooke started ticking guys off on her fingers.
"Ok maybe I said that about those couple of guys."
"Couple?"
"Ok few. But I'm serious about this one. After I slept with him…"
"Rach! I thought we made a pact that we would go on at least two dates with a guy before we slept with him."
"Ok A, that pact is so unfair because you don't date and therefore don't have to follow it."
"Well I don't date because…" Rachel held up a hand to stop her.
"I'm not judging, just pointing out a fact. And B, I did go on two dates with him." Brooke raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Rachel smiled as she cracked. "If you count the movie and the dinner as two separate dates."
"Once a slut always a slut," Brooke said as she sipped her coffee.
"Look who's talking." Brooke rolled her eyes and then jumped as her phone vibrated in her pocket.
"Hello? Gloria slow down… What?.. No I already picked out the cover picture for the December issue… The one where she's wearing the low cut black dress… No. That girl is not going on the cover of my magazine… Because she looks like all she wants for Christmas is a sandwich…I'll be there in fifteen minutes." The phone closed with a snap. "Sorry to cut this slut fest short, but duty calls." Brooke slipped her arms into her coat, picked up her coffee, and began to walk off.
"Tell David I said hey," Rachel called after her. Without turning around, Brooke gave a wave.
Brooke put her key into the door. She really didn't need this big house, but when you had as much money as she did, you had to do something with it. She almost didn't buy the house because the realtor had told her that it would be perfect for kids. Brooke sighed as she kicked off her shoes. It had been a while since she had thought about children. She tried to avoid the subject as much as possible. Her office had been given a list of words, courtesy of Rachel, to not say in her presence. Among them 'baby', 'daughter', and 'son'. It was just a month ago that Brooke had finally been able to ask her secretary about her daughter and not tear up.
The soft padding of footsteps broke up Brooke's thoughts. David, she thought with a smile. David had come into her life about two years ago and they had been inseparable ever since. He was the first one that she had opened her heart up to since she had lost the baby. He could always put a smile on her face. Just one look from his deep brown eyes and Brooke melted. Whenever Brooke came home from a tough day at the office, he was always there to make her day better. She spent many nights curled up on the couch with him watching movies.
"Hey David," Brooke greeted with a smile. A body knocked her over and she fell, sprawled on the floor. Immediately her face was covered with kisses. A giggle escaped from Brooke's lips. David had been the first one who made Brooke really laugh after she came to LA. He had been the one that helped Brooke's life start over. Brooke shoved him off of her. "Down boy." With a hurt look in her direction, David lollopped off. Brooke shook her head and then stood up, brushing herself off. She walked over to her answering machine. The light blinked up at her. With one red nail, Brooke pressed the play button. The first few messages were from various clients asking if Brooke would make them a dress for this awards show or for this interview. Brooke made a mental note to check those messages later. She didn't want to deal with work right now. The next message was from someone at work, inviting her out for drinks with the office. Brooke deleted that one immediately. The last few were from Rachel reminding her of various plans they had made. Brooke deleted these as well. It wasn't hard to remember to do things with Rachel because she was the only one that Brooke ever went out with. Brooke rubbed her eyes; she could feel a headache coming on. She strolled to her bathroom and pulled open her cabinet. After taking a couple of pills, she closed the mirrored door and caught sight of the box on her dresser. Brooke's pulse quickened. It had been a while since she had looked in this box. Could her heart be up for it?
The lid opened with a creak. Inside, stacked innocently enough lay pictures of a small little girl. Brooke's god child. Little Brooklyn Elizabeth Scott. With a smile on her face, Brooke flipped through the pictures of the girl. She was about six now, but Brooke hadn't seen her since she was a baby. Underneath the stack of those pictures were a few of Brooke's other god daughter, Jenny. In an attempt to pull Brooke out of her depression her two best friends had had a joint christening of their daughters, making Brooke the sole god parent of the two. But Brooke wanted her own child. This brought Brooke to the next picture. The picture of her baby in which, if you didn't know what it was, you might think it was something other than a human. Brooke began to sniffle. She put the picture aside and pulled out the next stack. Rubberbanded together were her memories of her life in Tree Hill. Pictures of her and her two best friends. And the ones that hurt even more, the ones of her and Lucas. Brooke couldn't do this. She thought she was strong enough, but she wasn't. Before the tears could land on the pictures, Brooke had shoved them back in the box and the box was placed back in its place on her dresser. Where it could taunt her forever. Without even changing, Brooke flopped onto her bed. David was already there. Brooke wrapped her arms around him. "I love you," she whispered. The Rottweiler gave a wag of his tail as if to say 'I love you too'. "Goodnight boy." And then human and pet fell asleep in the comfort of each other's presence.