Chapter 8
After more than four hours of flight, Brooke felt totally jet-lagged and she was having trouble with her bags. They were too big and too much. The problem was she had to bring zillion outfits with her, since she had to attend brunches, dinners, cocktails, runways, launchings, and so on. After all, she was a fashion editor and she had to look like one. She didn't have a personal assistant to carry her bags, she found that too pretentious. She wanted to keep things simple.
When she finally managed to carry one bag on her shoulder, her purse on the other, her briefcase in one hand and pull with the other her gigantic case with wheels, she walked to the exit. Jack scared the shit out of her when he showed.
– Hey! –Jack said, panting after running to reach her. – What are you doing here?
Brooke froze and turned pale. The last thing she expected was running into Jack at an airport.
– Hey… –she replied, surprised. Brooke had forgotten how beautiful Jack was. Since the days she was 19 and had a crush on him, he had aged wonderfully. He looked manlier than ever.
– You're here.
– I am, for work. –Brooke replied, feeling embarrassed because she looked like hell.
– How long you're staying?
– Couple of weeks.
– That's great. –Jack thought at that moment he definitely had to make the most of those two weeks. – Where you're staying? Is anybody picking you up? –he asked, going into his "take charge" mode, as usual.
– Um… the Beverly Hilton.
– Who's driving you?
Actually, she was planning on getting a cab. – Nobody.
– I can drive you.
– Oh, it's okay, I'll just get a cab.
– I insist. The Beverly Hilton is on my way home anyway.
– Don't you have to work?
– I have the evening off. –Jack looked at her huge bags and smiled back at her. – And I think you could use some help with those.
Brooke felt like melting when she saw that smile. It was true, she needed help with her luggage. And it would be way better to have Jack as a driver than some anonymous taxi man. – Okay, thank you. –she said.
He took the bags and she just had to take care of her purse. He's strong, she thought. When they got to the parking lot, he opened his car door for her. And a gentleman, too. Then he placed the bags in the trunk. They were ready to go.
Brooke went mute inside the car. She just had no idea what to say. She found weird he insisted on driving her after he never called her back. Besides, from time to time Jack glanced at her, making her nervous.
– What were you doing at the airport? –Brooke asked, finally breaking the silence.
– I drove my mother. She went to Philadelphia to visit her sister.
– You're from Philadelphia?
– No… And what you have to work in? –he asked, changing the subject abruptly.
– Fashion Week.
– Sounds like fun. –he tried to be amusing.
– It depends.
– On what?
– Never mind… –Brooke replied, thinking there was no use in explaining him 80 per cent of the people in fashion industry were shallow, empty and always faking it. – Nice car.
– You think? –asked Jack, as if he didn't think so.
– You know it's nice. –Brooke said, as if telling him playing naïve didn't suit him.
Jack got it and then he sensed she was upset. He immediately figured the reason was he didn't call her. – I never called.
– Excuse me?
– After Patrick's party. I said I'd call and I didn't.
– It came to me. –she shot back, as she didn't care.
– I'm sorry, I… lost your number. –Jack lied, and then realized that wasn't a fair excuse, since he could have asked Patrick. – I didn't know if asking Patrick would've been a good idea.
– Probably not. –she affirmed.
Jack interpreted that answer as another sign she and Patrick had been more than friends, but didn't want to get into that yet, so he totally changed the subject again. – You look good.
– Right… –Brooke said sarcastic, knowing she was having an awful "bad hair" day.
– You do. It's good to see you, Brooke. –Jack glanced at her and smiled, to confirm he meant it.
God, that smile, don't smile like that, she thought. – Well, thanks. But I've had better days, trust me.
– So, what you're doing tonight? –he asked her.
– Just get in the tub and have a long, nice sleep. –she said, meaning it. She didn't want to go out, not that night.
The image of her in the tub and then on a bed enticed Jack. That feeling got him again. I don't believe myself. I'm a pervert.
They arrived to the hotel. Jack pulled over and told a bell boy to take Brooke's bags. Then he walked her to the lobby.
– What are you doing tomorrow? –he tried again.
– I have quite a schedule. I'll be busy most of the day. –Brooke was giving him a hard time, knowing he was trying to ask her out. But Jack wasn't planning to give in.
– Well, I guess you might want to eat sometime during your busy day. –he replied with a suggestive smile.
– I guess. Why you ask? –she told him, finally surrendering to his charm.
– Because I would like to make it up to you and buy you dinner.
– You're asking me out?
– Absolutely.
Brooke couldn't resist him anymore. The truth was she wanted to jump him the minute they met at the airport. – Okay, I think I can make myself sometime.
– Fantastic. 9:00 O'clock is okay?
– Yeah. –she replied, finally smiling widely at him and giving him her classic flirtatious look.
– It's a date. I'll pick you up here, okay?
– Fine.
– Right, I'll see you tomorrow, then.
– I'll see you tomorrow.
– Night Brooke, sweet dreams. –he said, giving her a warm look and smile.
– Night Jack, and thanks for driving me.
– You're welcome.
Jack walked away from her and now Brooke was the one staring at his butt. Holy Mary… he's damn hot. And I'm having a date with him tomorrow. Maybe he does like me after all.
She checked-in and went to her room, 842. As soon as she got there, she called Ilana and told her all about her encounter with Jack. She got in the tub and couldn't help but feel happy. Then she realized she was getting a little too excited about him. That worried her somehow. She had broken up just 8 months ago and hadn't thought if she was ready to date again. But the idea of having dinner with Jack thrilled her. She really had a crush on him, just like when she was 19, but this time it was real.