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Twenty minutes after arranging for the bank transfer and sneaking out of the Bellevue Hotel before either her mom or Derek came looking for her, she still wasn’t positive whom she wanted to avoid more. She walked into the safety of her apartment, although how long it would remain safe she didn’t know. Once her mom had realized Brooklyn didn’t plan on returning to finish their conversation, she’d probably called her husband and filled him in on what happened and how their daughter had possibly ruined the chances of him merging Dimension with Atlantic Coast Marketing. Even as she locked the door, her dad could be on his way over to share his opinion of her little stunt and the likely repercussions.
The same went for Derek. She suspected he was ticked because she’d held off on her final bid, making it look like Tasha had won. Although she’d been reluctant to put in the first bid, once she got going, she’d had no intention of letting him down. However, considering all the trouble their little agreement was about to cause her, she’d wanted to make Derek sweat just a little up there. And he had.
She’d seen it in his face as Tasha made her way toward the stage and up the stairs. Even so, she realized it had been a little childish and cruel. Maybe depending on when she saw him, she’d apologize. Or perhaps not. A lot of it hinged on her dad’s reaction and the amount of time separating her confrontation with him and when she saw Derek. If by some super unlikely twist of fate they both showed up tonight, Derek was not going to like what she had to say, especially now that she had a big bone to pick with him.
Brooklyn switched on lights as she walked through the apartment, Derek’s stupid kiss set on a continuous loop in her head. After she’d seen Colton, the first bachelor, kiss the winning bidder, and every bachelor who followed do the same, she’d resigned herself to the idea of Derek kissing her too. She’d expected a brief touch of his lips against hers, much like the kiss Henry Blakey, another bachelor auctioned off, dropped on the woman who stepped on stage next to him. Heck, Henry kept his kiss so short the photographer had asked them to do it again because it ended before he got a picture.
The kiss Derek dropped on her hadn’t been a mere touch of lips, but rather a warm, sensual caress that convinced her arms to wrap themselves around him despite her brain’s loud objections. While she wished he’d followed Henry’s example, she’d admit the kiss Derek gave her did look better for pictures, and it would certainly help sell their charade more than a quick peck. Perhaps that was why she’d gone along with it. At least until he’d tried to take it even further. When he’d tugged on her bottom lip as if to get her to open for him, her brain’s arguments won out and she’d pulled herself away. Giving the camera and crowd a convincing kiss was one thing, giving them a full openmouthed lip lock was another.
Stupid, stupid. What had he been thinking? Just because Milan and her bachelor and one other couple had gotten all hot and heavy on the stage didn’t mean everyone had to. And it was what he would’ve done if she hadn’t stopped him. She might be a virgin, but she’d been kissed enough times to recognize the signs of someone taking a kiss to the next level.
Stepping out of her gown, she placed it on a hanger and returned it to her closet. Monday she’d drop it off at the cleaners and then later return it to the far corner of her wardrobe. Rather than merely wash the layers of makeup from her face, she carried her cotton shorts and T-shirt into the bathroom. A hot shower was just the thing to help ease the tension in her neck and shoulders.
Hot water pelted her from the numerous jets inside the shower stall. For several seconds, she stood under the onslaught allowing the water to work its magic. When the knots in her shoulders began to lessen, she reached for her favorite citrus body wash. Brooklyn took more time than normal in the shower, but when she stepped out, the tension and aggravation she’d carried in had been washed down the drain along with the soapsuds.
Glad to have whatever hair products the stylist had used earlier gone, she combed out her hair and left it loose to dry. Most days she blew it dry after a shower; otherwise, it turned into an unmanageable mop. Since the only plans she had for the rest of the evening involved her couch and television, she skipped the unpleasant task and headed toward her kitchen.
Yep, since she was more relaxed now; she needed a way to remain that way. A nice mug of hot chocolate and a movie were the perfect recipe for keeping her mind on things besides tonight’s events. Or more specifically, Derek’s lips against hers.
For a few months after they first met, she’d fantasized about how it would be if he kissed her. As their friendship developed and he became one of her closest friends, she’d forced herself to stop and never think of it again. Only occasionally did she find it a difficult task these days.
Now, thanks to their little arrangement, she no longer needed to imagine because she had firsthand knowledge. Knowledge she didn’t want and would give back if she could. Unfortunately, some things you couldn’t return
Her eyes watched the mug in the microwave rotate, and her mind replayed the kiss up on stage. Their bodies had come in contact numerous times over the years. Sometimes when they were together their knees would bump or their hands would touch. Until tonight though, she’d never had his entire body pressed up against hers. And man, oh, man she’d liked it. No, correction: she’d loved it.
Be smart. Forget about it and the kiss. If she didn’t find some way of blocking the memory, she’d never be comfortable around Derek again. The last thing she wanted was to lose his friendship.
The microwave dinged, but before she retrieved her hot chocolate, the doorbell chimed. Frozen in place, she considered her options. Security on the first floor checked everyone who came in who they didn’t immediately recognize. If the unfamiliar visitor was listed in the computer as a family member or regular visitor, they were allowed up; otherwise, the guard on duty called upstairs before allowing anyone to proceed. Since she hadn’t received a call from security, she suspected the visitor was either a family member or Derek.
It could be Robbie, she admitted. Her neighbor never called before crossing the hall and ringing the bell. Brooklyn checked the stove clock. Midnight. Robbie never visited this late. She didn’t need to ask to know it wouldn’t be either Paris or Milan. Paris would be at her hotel talking to Seth before going to bed. And more than likely, Milan was getting to know bachelor number six better in her hotel room. Leaving only two other possibilities….
She could pretend not to be home. Whoever stood in the hall would get tired of waiting and leave, at least for a little while. Tomorrow whoever it was would return and possibly be more annoyed than they were now. Besides, ignoring them tonight didn’t accomplish much except to prolong whatever unpleasant conversation awaited her. And it was going to be unpleasant no matter what.
“Better to get it over with now anyway.” Brooklyn pushed away from the counter, all the tension that had been washed away rushing back into her neck and head. Already a throbbing pain beat just above her left eyebrow, and she hadn’t opened the door yet.
Rubbing at her forehead, she paused, her right hand poised over the door handle. “Who is it?”
“Your parents.” Her dad’s voice came through the door, the thick wood doing nothing to muffle the anger in it.
Her left eye twitched as she opened the door.
Neither of her parents waited for an invitation. Instead, they strode inside as if they owned the place. Asking why they were making a midnight visit would only irritate them both more, and judging by their expressions, she’d done enough of that already tonight. So rather than risk saying the wrong thing, she closed the door and followed them into the living room.
“I’m sure you know why we’re here,” Scarlet said rather than a proper hello.
“Mom, Dad, it’s late. Can we have this conversation after we all get some sleep? You’re going to be in town all weekend anyway. And sometimes it’s better to sleep on things.”
“We had an agreement, Brooklyn. You gave me your word.” Donovan Novak ignored her request as he stepped closer to her. “Less than two months ago you sat across from me and promised to give a relationship with Trevor a chance. One evening out is hardly doing that.”
Although curious how he knew how many times they’d seen each other, Brooklyn decided it was in her best interest not to inquire about that tonight.
“And this stunt of yours, bidding on Derek Sherbrooke. What were you thinking?” her father demanded.
Considering how much her dad disliked Derek, focusing on Trevor rather than the auction seemed like the wisest of moves. “Trevor and I’ve also met for coffee several times and talked on the phone. In fact, I saw him on Tuesday afternoon. So I am giving him a chance. But we’re not seeing each other exclusively. Our relationship hasn’t progressed there.”
“And it never will if you spend time with that playboy you call a friend.”
Derek wasn’t a playboy. She’d told her dad that over and over. “Dad—”
