Page 26 of The Scent of Happiness

“My grandfather was an attorney.”

“Again. So?” Brooke leaned forward, her gaze pinning him in place. “Do you like it?”

He forced himself to meet the challenge in her gaze. “I like to help people,” he said. “And I like knowing how things work. I get paid to read, and write, and think.”

“And talk,” Brooke added. “And argue.”

He spread his hands. “To get what I want in a creative way.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m a problem solver,” Theo insisted. “I solve problems for people.”

“Is that true?” Brooke asked. “All of that? Because it almost sounds like it could be true.”

“It is.” A line of dread snaked up his back. Brooke wasn’t the kind of person who would take his rehearsed answers at face value.

She tapped her chin with a finger. “Or maybe you like being a lawyer because you like to win.”

“Everybody likes to win.” Theo took a nonchalant tone, even though his heart was tripping double time. He didn’t like the way Brooke was looking at him—the way she seemed to see right through him. “You expect me to win for you.”

“I do.” Brooke hesitated before speaking again, and that pause seemed to hold a whole world of choices. As if she’d weighed her words, knew what the consequences of speaking them would be, but had to say them anyway. “But some people maybe…um…didn’t win much when they were younger. Those kinds of people have a stronger need to win now.”

Theo stood so quickly that his chair wobbled, and he reached back to catch it before it tipped over. No. They were not doing this. He was done with high school. He wasn’t going to let anyone mow him down in the hallway or tell him there was no room at the cool kids’ table, and he wasn’t going to take judgement from Queen B. “It’s getting late, I should go.”

Brooke stood as well. “I’m sorry, Theo. That was out of line. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it was no problem.” Theo stepped over the shoe mountain at the door. “It’s time for me to go. Don’t forget those photocopies. I’ll email you a contract.”

Brooke stopped him with her fingertips on his arm. “We’re not the people we were back then.”

“I know.” His head knew that very well. And he’d worked hard to make his body forget the towel slaps, the random shoulder-checks, being pushed into lockers. The way he’d avoid certain areas of the school. The way he was so often alone.

“I’m glad we’re working together,” Brooke said.

“I’ll uh…I’ll be in touch.”

Theo closed the door softly behind him. He looked at the night sky and took in a gulp of outdoor air, letting it cool him.

He was supposed to be smart, so why did all his brains leave him when he was with Brooke? And why did she seem to know things about him, as if she could sniff out the truth with every breath? As he passed the garage, he paused at the door to her storage room. Brooke had been right about one thing. He was a different person now than when he’d arrived.

Chapter Nine

Brooke couldn’t have Emma over without spending a frantic hour or two tidying up first. If she didn’t, Emma would align everything on the coffee table, then organize the side tables and bookshelves, while insisting that it was no bother, none at all, and that she enjoyed doing it. Brooke would spend the next week trying to find everything Emma had put away.

The things scattered around her apartment weren’t clutter. They were reminders. The empty tissue box on the dresser told her to buy more. She put a shower cap next to the bed to remember she was due for a deep conditioner. The dryer door hanging open reminded her that she had clothes in the washer and would need to transfer them out.

The only thing in her apartment that never moved was her medication keeper, with pills sorted by dose. She had backups in her tote bag that she hoped she never needed, because forgetting her morning meds would mess up her entire day.

Living alone meant no one saw Brooke’s mess, and she didn’t notice it herself half the time. But she tried to see things through her best friend’s eyes and think like a professional organizer for most of Sunday afternoon.

The best part was finding all six pairs of her glasses. She bought cheap-but-fun glasses from an online store and always had a backup pair when she misplaced them. Today, she did a victory dance as she made a neat row of them on her dresser.

She was tucking her shoes into the hall closet when Emma arrived wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, with her hair in a ponytail and her arms full of bags.

“What’s all this?” Brooke thought Emma was going to help her with her website, not move in.

“This bag has my tripod and camera. That one has snacks I picked up on the way here. Your mom stopped me in the driveway and gave me this.” Emma handed over a foil-covered dish. “It’s a shepherd’s pie.”