Light as a feather

by Clavyus

BRUCAS. She is twenty and he is twenty four, both living in NY. They are slightly acquainted from Tree Hill. They meet, and quickly fall hard for one another. A complete story.

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Brooke

I can't wait for the elevator. I have to move, I have to keep moving. I can feel the tears coming down my face, falling onto his hoodie. How can it be so hard, tearing myself away from him? Less than a day, and that boy turned my life inside out. My boyfriend. My love. Outside, find a cab. Get in. Where do I go? I can't deal with Rachel and Millie now. I give the cabbie the address to the CoB building. I have work to do, anyways.

The cab trip is a blank. I keep picturing his sad, worried face when I left. I knew I would end up hurting him. I just didn't expect it would be so soon. My mind keeps circling around, around what I don't want to confront. He is Karen's son. Her beloved boy. I know how much she missed him, how her eyes would mist when she thought about him. I can't believe that, through all the time I knew her, his name never came up. I thought of him as Ukie, the way Lilly referred to him. Ukie. Luke. Damn. So stupid, Brookie Cookie. One look at those blue eyes, and all my brain cells go out for a spin. I actually smile through my tears. That didn't begin yesterday. I remember his eyes had the same effect on my fifteen-year-old self. Banish all thought process, leaving poor little me speechless. I guess I was downplaying exactly how much of a crush I had on him back then. I remember daydreaming of his big hands on my little boobs. Oh, lord. His hands. On me. Everywhere. It's hard to think, to even feel something, when every cell in my body is screaming to go back to that apartment in Queens and screw him blind. I need to put a clamp on this. Never mind, I have a lot of work to do.

The cab dropped me at CoB. I let myself in, and I can hear a sewing machine in the background. The seamstresses had to prepare for a private showing next week, a group of buyers from the midwest was doing the rounds of small trendy labels in town, and we got a foot in. There was probably just the seamstress, and maybe the janitor around. I took the stairs to my office/atelier on the top floor. This is one of my favorite places in the whole world. It occupies half the top floor, a squarish space, about thirty by thirty feet. There is a large desk, a couple of file cabinets behind it, a seamstress table covered with fabric samples and design molds, a sewing machine, a large brown leather sofa, with two chairs and a coffee table, a couple of drawing tables with high benches on a side, a free standing white board against a wall, covered with information. A large rack with samples of most of the pieces currently under production, as well as some pieces from competitors, a small refrigerator, with some liquor bottles and glasses on top. One of the walls has huge oil painting of a runway, with faceless audience and an exquisitly rendered model in the foreground, wearing a long flowing red dress. The painting was a gift from PSawyer, who also fell in love with this room the first time she saw it. There are also a bunch of large black-and-white pictures of models wearing CoB designs on the other walls. There is a lot of natural lighting, a couple of large windows on one side and a big sunroof I had cut into the roof of the building. The room is high, about twenty feet, with the roof structure exposed. I collapse in the sofa, curled in a little ball and cry myself to sleep.

I woke up with a start, with someone knocking on the door. "Who is it?"

"Millie. Can I come in?"

"Sure, sweetie, come in, sit down. I'll be right back." As she comes in I run into the adjoing bathroom. I look at myself, puffy eyes, hair a total mess. I splash some water in my face and brush my hair a bit, coming out a little more composed. "Hi, Millie, what brings you here?"

"I brought you a skim caramel latte, no foam, and a couple of chocolate chip muffins."

I give her a hard look. "He called you. Asked you to check on me." He is taking care of me, even after what I did. I need to fix this. The good thing is, Now I know what I have to do.

"He called me, a couple of hours ago. He just told me you left, in a great deal of distress. His words. Since you didn't come home, I assumed you had come here. I brought you distress food. It was either this or a tub of chunky monkey, and I thought..."

"Never mind Millie, this is fine." I grab the latte. It tastes wonderful.

"What happened, sweetie? You were so happy yesterday. He sounded so broken on the phone. What did he do?"

I start crying again. Millie reaches up and hugs me. "He didn't do anything. He is amazing. I am the problem. I don't deserve him. I rest my head of her shoulder."

She holds me and caresses my back. "Oh, sweetie, This is not true. I am sure you can fix this. It will be ok, you will see."

I pull myself back together, blow my nose on a piece of italian silk, and turn to Millie."

"How's the agenda for the next week?"

"For school, you have a project due on Monday and a couple of midterms Thursday and Friday. You're supposed to do two half-shifts on the store, Monday and Wednesday morning and next Saturday, the whole day. We have that midwest showing on Wednesday afternoon, a meeting with the people from Victoria's Secret Monday afternoon and you need to finish the designs for the Spring collection this week. Ah, there is a quarterly financial report meeting with our accountant on Thursday morning that I really want you to attend. We need your input in planning expansion for next year."

"What about the following week?"

"School is out, and you should put in your twenty hours at the store, but, as of this moment, no big issues with CoB, except for the big Christmas party Wednesday evening. I'll have the big room downstairs decorated, and I've found a nice caterer for the party. I've even hired a fat, jolly Santa for the evening."

I can't avoid a smile at the thought of Santa coming to CoB. "Very well, call the store, and see if you can squeeze my hours from Monday to Wednesday, at their convenience. Also, please give them notice. I'm not coming back after Christmas. Book me a flight, on the morning of the twenty third to Tree Hill, coming back on evening of the twenty-sixth, with a car, a silver Mercedes two seater, if you can swing it and three nights at a nice hotel. If you can't find tickets, just hire an air taxi."

"Very well." She grabs a notebook and a pen from her purse and starts scribbling. "Anything else?"

What the hell... a girl can always hope. "Buy, borrow or steal a couple of tickets for the fire and ice New Year's ball. I don't care whose arm will need twisting."

Millie smiles. "This is going to be hard. I might have to enlist Victoria's help."

"If it gets to that, leave it to me."

"Ah, I almost forgot. Get me an OB-Gyn appointment for next week."

"OK, I'll get back to you in a couple of days on the invite."

"I need to go shopping. Dinner tonight? Pizza, ice cream and Sex and the City reruns? Is Rachel still around?"

"There was a scrunchie at the bedroom door this morning. Yes for dinner, the food and the reruns. I am going for lunch at my parents now, but I'll be back for dinner. Be strong, sweetie."

"Thank you, Millie. For everything. I love you."

"I love you too. Don't let him get away. He is a good one."

"I know."

After Millie leaves, I sit to drink my latte and eat one of the muffins. After figuring out my plan of action, I begin to feel a bit more like myself. The aching hole in my heart is still there, as well as the banked fire between my legs, but I can keep my composure for now. I pick up my phone and call Peyton. She answers after a couple of rings.

"Hi, BDavis! Very nice to hear from you. How are things in the big city?"

"Hi PSawyer. You have a few minutes?"

"Sure. Jake is out, playing basketball with some friends. I was just hearing some music and sketching."

I smile. What else is new. "You guys spending Christmas in Tree Hill?"

"Yes, we are driving there next weekend, and we will be staying at Daddy's. We'll have dinner at Jake's parents on Friday, and Daddy is flying in Thursday night and staying the weekend. Why? You want to come? Want to stay with us? There's plenty of space."

"I'll be arriving Thursday lunchtime, and I'll stay until Sunday. My plans are a little fluid at the moment, but I certainly want to spend time with you guys and Larry. I'll let you know. Also, thanks for offering, but I think I'll stay at a hotel."

She can hear the catch in my voice. "What's up, sweetie? Something happened?"

I feel a tear rolling down my cheek. Maybe not so composed, after all. "Yup. Something happened all right. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What? It can't be boy trouble."

"Well, it can. Do you remember Lucas Scott?"

"Number three of the Ravens. Tall, blonde, broody, hot as hell and from the wrong side of the sheets. You had a huge crush on him freshman year. I always though he was kinda sweet on you too."

I laugh. "That's right. That's the one. He came into the store yesterday afternoon. To buy a naughty gift for his girl, of all things."

"Wow. How does he look now? He is, what, twenty-four?"

"He looks good, Goldilocks. Way better than in high school."

"To make a long story short, we hit it off last night. Dinner, best sex of my life, dancing, more incredible sex, cuddling, sleeping together, talking, laughing... Peyt, I've fallen for him. Hard. And I think he's got it just as bad as I do. He told me he loved me, and I said it back! God, I hardly know him. Right now, he is officially my boyfriend."

"It sound a bit too fast, but it had to happen someday. So what, little slut? It sounds all good so far."

"Did you know he is Karen's son?"

"Really? No, I didn't know. So, Karen is the abandoned girl in the Scott family drama. Boy, I should have known, though. I am certain Jake knows. He worked at the Cafe for a while, during junior year. What a closed mouthed son-of-a-gun, that fiancee of mine." She pauses for a bit. "Ah, I begin to see the problem."

"Yeah. He is Lilly's Ukie."

"Of course. It was staring us right in the face, wasn't it? What do you know, small southern towns and family secrets. There's a book or two written about that. Brooke, sweety, keep cool. Do you have any idea how happy Karen will be if you two are together?"

"You mean, to see me breaking her Ukie's heart in a million pieces? Not so sure. I don't think I am the girl for him, Goldilocks. He is a great guy. Kind, generous, smart, good looking, great in bed. Oh, so great in bed... you have no idea. And I'm damaged goods. I can't hold a serious relationship. I never have. Can you imagine me as a mother? Victoria 2.0? I was being selfish, leading Lucas on, hoping that somehow everything would come out Ok. But I can't do that with Karen's son."

"Oh sweetie, I know you feel that way. But you're so wrong. You're brave, kind, smart, beautiful and you have the biggest heart I know. You're going to be a great mother. I remember how good you were with Lilly, and how crazy that little girl was for you." Peyton giggles. "And I am pretty sure you're good in bed too, at least judging by the silly face of them boys, after they'd been with you. What happened, exactly? What did you do?"

"I found out he was Karen's son while we were eating breakfast. French toast, almost as good as his mom's. I panicked. I said a bunch of nonsense, told him I needed time, promised that I would come back and explain, and ran away."

"He hasn't called?"

"Last night, at one point, I started to have cold feet. He told me he would hold me with his hands open. That if I stayed, it was fine, and if I left, he would wait for me. It was perfect, exactly what I needed to hear. He was worried after I left, so he sent Millie to check on me. I don't expect him to come after me. I'm going to have to make my way back to him, if I can handle it."

"Damn, he is good. Wanna trade? A slightly used, hot and sweet boy for your stud? I'll even throw in a couple of paintings. I have no problem breaking the heart of Lilly's Ukie."

"Sorry, bitch, but I'm pretty sure that boy is going nowhere. I got him fully wrapped around my fingers, at least for now. The new thing is that I am totally wrapped around his strong, beautiful, sexy fingers know, Rachel was flirting with him a bit last night, and he didn't even blink. And you know how good that slut is. In fact, he did flirt bit with Millie. She is rather taken by him, maybe even developed a little crush."

"Hm. He favors Millie over Rachel, and is head over heels into you. Sound taste in girls."

I laugh. "He said he didn't get what Jake saw in you back then."

"Hell, I don't know what Jake saw in me back then. Sure, I was kind of cute, but I had the temper of a polecat. Only saint Jake and you could put up with me. I've mellowed a lot, though. I think some of Jake's sweetness rubbed off on me."

"You were always pretty sweet, PSawyer. You just hid it well. I saw it, Jake saw it and your dad saw it. Everybody else got the sarcastic bitch act. I hope I can work things out with Luke, because I suspect you two would get along just fine now. He looks a bit like you, has some of your artsy style, and the same miserable taste in music. I actually thought that I had found myself a boy Peyton."

"So, what's the plan in Tree Hill?"

I giggle. "It's an elaborate, devious plan. I'll go talk to Karen and lay it all out. I'm hoping she will try to convince me to go back to him. That's the bottom line for me. I'm going nowhere with him without Karen's full blessing and support. I owe her that much. If she does, and I feel brave enough, I'll go to him. And hope he will still want me."

"Sounds good to me. Do you have a picture?"

"No. Wish I did. Yesterday was the best night of my life. By far. And it never crossed my mind to take a picture. I guess I was too busy being happy."

After we hang up, I thought occurs to me, so I drop Millie a text. "Did u take any pics of Lucas last nite? " A minute later I get a reply, just a picture. Lucas in a chair at the club, me on his lap, apparently saying something in his ear. He's got this beautiful goofy grin on. Millie, girl, your Christmas present this year is coming from Tiffany. I text back. "U're brilliant. Thnx." I forward the picture to Peyton. A minute later I get another text. "There is the silly face. Haven't lost your touch, slut. Good job. PS. U're rite. He does look better now. Yum."

My second call is not as much fun. The witch answers after a couple of rings. "Hi, Victoria. Brooke here."

"What a surprise. My own estranged daughter. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Several things. How are you, any news about Dad? What are your plans for Christmas?"

"Well, I am fine, and so is your father. I was just talking to him yesterday, and we decided to spend the hollidays in Majorca. One of his golf buddies has a villa there, and offered it to us. I'm leaving next Wednesday, coming back after the New Year. You know I hate New York this time of the year. So tacky."

I know I need to soften her up a bit. "There's two more things. First, you've been hinting that you want to get involved with the business side of Clothes over Bros. Well, we are preparing a major expansion for next year, and we will have a meeting this Thursday morning to begin planning it. Would you mind coming and giving us your two cents?"

"Sure dear, I am sure you could benefit a lot from my experience. What time on Thursday?"

"Say, nine sharp?"

"Done. What else?"

"I'm trying to score a couple of invites to the fire and ice ball. Can you help?"

"Now, that is a little harder. First, an invitation always includes a plus one, so, I assume, you only need one."

"That's right."

"I can probably get it, but I am going to have to call in a couple of favors. I want two things in return."

I knew it. "What, mother?"

"First, I want a formal position at Clothes over Bros. I think, with the right guidance, you can go places with your little fashion line."

My mother has a feel for the industry few people have. She can actually be an asset, if I can bring myself to put up with her. The problem is that, right now, the company is a very pleasant place to work. Millie and I have managed to create a happy and productive environment that few places have. Adding my dear mother to the mix may screw that up for good. Also, I've always wanted to try to be a little closer to her. Maybe this is the time. I make a snap decision. "Will CFO do? I stay CEO, and Millie is my executive vice-president, so you would be number three, working directly for me. You can also hire an assistant. I'll prepare a formal offer and send it over to you."

"That will do, for now. The second thing is information. Who is the boy?"

I try to play dumb. "Which boy?"

"The boy you want to take to the fire and ice ball. I wasn't born yesterday, Brooklyn. You really want to make an impression, no?"

I sigh. Playing dumb never really works with her. I don't know why I bother. "He is an old crush from high school. His name is Lucas Scott."

"Oh, I know who he is. The wrong Scott boy. Your father and I used to be good friends with Dan and Deb, and their son Nathan even played with you when you were little. Not a social asset these days, specially the bastard boy."

I can't avoid crying. The bastard boy. God, I loathe this woman. My only consolation is that Luke has a similar curse in his family tree. I try to keep my voice steady. "He is an editor for a publisher here in the city, a writer and a basketball coach. He is also handsome and charming. I guarantee he will not embarass the Davis family name."

"Very well, Brooklyn, The heart wants what it want, I suppose. I should get back to you soon on this."

"Bye, mother. See you on Thursday."

"Goodbye, Brooklyn. And call me Victoria."

I drop another text to Millie, to forget about the ball invites and one to Rachel, to meet me at Macy's on West thirty-fourth, if she feels like it.

It is time for some retail therapy. First things first, we find something to wear. I go for a short black skirt, red leggings, white wedges, a white tank top and a warm big red sweater with the CoB logo from the rack. A touch of make-up, a bit of perfume, a black amex, and I am ready to go. I call for a limo service and hire a car for the whole day. The driver will follow me around, help me with the bags, and give me a place to keep the loot as I move about.

The store is packed, this close to Christmas. I'd been in there for a while when I get a text from Rachel. "Whr r u, slut?". "Menswear." A couple of minutes later, Rachel shows up. "Hi, Gattina. How was your evening?"

"I caught a good one last night. Hockey player. A bit too much ego, rough around the edges. I'm following your advice and letting him take me out again today. We will see if he improves. What about yout boy toy? Last night you were headed straight to the altar with that one."

"He is officially my boyfriend right now. We ran into some trouble, though, so we're not talking. It's a long story, which I'll tell you over lunch."

"I love drama, little whore. You've been so boring lately. Busy, busy, little Brookie working bee.

I'm glad blue eyes showed up to shake your tree."

I laugh a bit. "Blue eyes didn't just shake my tree. He uprooted it and took it home. I'm madly crushed on the boy, Rach. He told me he loved me last night, during sex, and I said that I loved him right back. We did it three times last night. I said the first time was a hard ten. We blew right past that. The last one was the very best of my life. But it's not just the mind-blowing sex. I like him. I get him, and he gets me in a way no other boy ever did."

"It was bound to happen someday, Brookie. Do you think it's gonna stick?"

"I hope so, but I am terrified that it wont. What do I know? It's all uncharted territory for me."

"So, it's all good. If he feels the same way, run to the altar, get a ring and go make a bunch of little basketball players and cheerleaders with fashion sense. I promise to corrupt them without mercy."

"All right, let's go to lunch. Gianello?"

"That's fine. Chicken ceasar and a glass of red. Gotta keep the girly figure."

"Spaguetti Bolognesi and the red for me. A tough run in the morning for the figure."

Rachel gives me a disgusted look. "I don't know where you get all this energy, whore."

I laugh. "Pure thoughts and clean living, slut."

"Up yours."

We sit at the restaurant and place our orders. The waiter is this gorgeous hispanic boy, and Rachel flirts with him mercilessly. "You're going to make him drool in our food."

"That's the plan, cutie. I'll double his tip if he does. So, I got it that last night was heaven. What happened this morning? The wife showed up?"

I can't avoid laughing. "We woke up, made out a bit and went for a run. I showered, and he went to fix breakfast. Bacon and french toast, OJ and a latte. The french toast was excellent."

"So, your prince can cook. Shit, whore. Is he gay?"

"He told me his best friend is a girl. Haley James Scott."

"The singer. She is cute."

"So I asked if he ever considered being gay. He told me he liked pussy too much, but I already knew that."

"I like this guy."

"I think he likes you too. So, when I tasted his french toast, I told him I only knew one place where I could get a better one. Karen's Cafe. He laughed and said his mother taught him to make it, but that he knew she made it better. He is Karen's son."

"Now, I suppose that came as a surprise."

"I felt stupid. I had all the pieces, just didn't put it together. Then I completely freaked out and ran away."

"Now, that I don't get. Why?"

"I was already a little freaked with how fast, and how deep I was falling for him. And that when he was just a boy I had a crush in high school. All of a sudden, he is the son of this woman that is very precious to me. It was too much. You know I am broken. All of a sudden, I didn't think I was good enough for him. That's why I ran."

I knew that would make Rachel mad. She is incredibly loyal. She screams at me. "What do you mean you're not good enough for him? You're Brooke Penelope fucking Davis!

You're good enough for the Queen of England, for crying out loud." And with a puff. "Silly whore."

I let her fume a bit, and I add quietly. "I love you, slut."

She calms down and looks at me seriously. "I love you too. You know my opinion. If you want something, reach out and grab it. Sometimes you get what you want. Sometimes you lose your hand. The rest, including this Karen stuff and the not good enough bullshit, is just noise. What are you going to do?"

"I can't play it like you would. I'm going to Tree Hill, talk to Karen. Maybe she can convince me I'm good enough. Maybe she doesn't think so. Anyways, I need her support, if I am ever going to go for this."

"If that's the way you want it. Just don't come crying to me if this stupid boy breaks your silly little whorish heart."

I smile at her. "You know that's exactly what I would do. Where else would I go?"

"I know. I'm leaving in a few hours. Hong Kong first, for a shoot, and someplace warm, to be ignored by my parents over the holidays. I just hope, this time, the cabin boys are not all gay."

We laugh. "I'm sure it will be fine. Don't forget to bring a plastic friend just in case."

"I know. Never leave home without it."

"I'll leave a little Christmas gift for you on your bed, in case I am not around when you come back. Have a good time, slut. I'll miss you."

"You too. I hope you find your way back to your boy. Please, keep me posted. And don't forget to have fun. You've turned so serious in your old age..."

I get up and give her a hug. "Bye, slut. Don't worry, I got the check."

"Bye. And tell the sexy waiter that I'll be seeing him."

I spend the rest of the afternoon with my Christmas shopping. What I am going to give to my boyfriend? I know what I want to give him, but placing wrapped up naked me under the tree is not practical. I decide on two gifts. One I'll have delivered to his mother's home Christmas day. The other I'll give him personally, if we get back together.

When I get back to the apartment, Millie is not there yet, so I put away the gifts, call for pizza and change, into underwear, with the Keith's Auto Shop hoodie on top. It's the best I can do, if I can't have him. Sure, it will give the pizza delivery guy an eyefull, but my sluttish friend did tell me to have fun. Pizza and Millie arrive more-or-less at the same time. She changes into pj's and we sit in front of the TV, with wine, pizza, and Sex and the City. She uses these cute girlie long sleeve flannel pj's with teddy bears and baloons. She looks very cuddly, so, we cuddle. I only cry a little, before falling asleep.