Brooke is too good for this guy. She's got spark; she's got fire; she's got personality. I wish him and Katrina the best, obviously, but Brooke would never be happy in this cookie-cutter life.
Jesus, I'm a mess. I need to get her off of my mind. The subway announcement lets me know we're arriving at my stop. I quickly hop up and exit the train as soon as the doors open. Ascending the stairs, I grit my teeth and brace myself for the sub-freezing winds that surely await me.
And god, do they await me. Freezing rain feels like shards of glass against my cheeks. Even though the weather is objectively horrendous, Times Square is amadhouse. Starry-eyed shoppers fill the streets alongside religious nutcase protestors. I roll my eyes at their hateful slogans and duck into the closest tourist shop.
A bored-looking teenager barely acknowledges me as I sift through keychains and tee shirts. I wince at theprice of an 'I heart NY' tee shirt—$34.99—but I know it'll make Orion happy. I snag a box of NYC-themed building blocks for Nova as well before the highway robbery of this godforsaken store cleans me out.
The kid barely looks at me as he rings me up. I scope out the rest of the little shop. It's pretty quiet. Weirdly quiet, especially for Times Square.
"You know, you might consider some snacks in here." I smile at the kid.
"What?"
"Just sayin'. Might drum up business. You know, like locally baked treats?"
"Uh, sure. Here's your change." He drops the cash and coins into my hand and turns back to his phone.
Jesus, I'm stupid.
Brooke
Mondayafternoon,myphonevibrates against my desk. An unknown number is texting me. Frowning, I reach over and scan the message.
Unknown
Hi Brooke, it's Calvin. Where is the baseball card? I want it for my son.
Furious tears gather in the corners of my eyes. Hisson?He got that lady pregnant, and this is how he tells me? Why did he have to tell me at all? Literally, all I want from him is to disappear from my life forever.
"You okay?" Felicity looks over at me with a gentle frown.
I force myself to smile back. "Peachy."
"Uh oh," Darrell pipes up. "She used the P word."
Christ, I'm not gonna get out of this. "Really, I'm fine. Calvin texted me from his new beau's phone."
"Seriously? What does he want?" Andrea scowls.
"Baseball cards that I don't have. I think he's doing this just to mess with me," I mumble and chew on a hangnail.
"Knock knock." Dustin walks up and raps his fist against the trendy exposed brick wall. "Oh, no. Is this a bad time?"
"Nope. Great time. Is it two already? Wow, time flies," I babble, feeling my cheeks flush red with embarrassment. Dustin nods, concern knitted between his brows. Grabbing my laptop, I follow him back to his de facto office: Conference Room B.
He ushers me inside and gently closes the frosted glass door behind us. "I hope you had a nice weekend."
"I did, thank you," I reply, blushing even harder.
"Good. I did as well. Unfortunately, we still have some things to go over. Uh, considering how Friday's meeting went." He coughs and looks away from me.
Inexplicably, the tears welling up behind my eyes burst forth, and a ragged sob rips out of me. I try to cover my face with my cardigan sleeve, but Dustin's concern deepens before I can hide from his gaze.
"Oh, god. I'm sorry. Shit, did I say something wrong?" He scurries over and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Shit, should I not touch you?"
"It's fine," I wail and grab for the stack of napkins next to his bagel. "I'm fine. Totally good. I just… need a second."
"Sure, of course. Take all the time you need." He squeezes my shoulder. "Can I ask… did I do something wrong?"
