Page 59 of The Billionaire in Her Bed
Simon clinked his glass with Eli’s. “Exactly.”
…
Working from home had its advantages. Like not showering for days on end and subsisting on junk food and Diet Coke. Made wallowing in self-pity so much easier.
It helped that Brooke had a little sister willing to overlook her substandard appearance—and questionable odor—and trek out to Brooklyn to replenish her supply of said junk food and Diet Coke.
“Thanks, Mal.” Brooke took one of the grocery bags from her sister, brought it over to the counter, and started to unpack. Powdered donuts. Chex mix. Slim Jims. Twinkies. It looked like Mallory had bought out an entire gas station convenience store.
Their parents were right. She was the nice one.
“I brought some real food, too, so you don’t die of malnutrition.” Mallory followed Brooke into the apartment and hip-checked the door closed behind her, her arms otherwise occupied with the remaining grocery bag. “And a little something special.”
She dangled a smaller plastic bag from her fingers. Brooke took it from her and peered inside.
“Please tell me that’s your homemade black satin mousse cake inside that box,” she said hopefully.
“If the kitchen at the Worthington counts as home.” Mallory put the second grocery bag on the counter along with her purse and leaned against it to scrutinize her sister. “That’s an interesting ensemble.”
“What, this old thing?” Brooke fingered the hem of her tattered RISD sweatshirt, which she’d paired with Minnie Mouse pajama pants and fluffy unicorn slippers.
“And you smell god-awful.” Mallory wrinkled her nose. “How long has it been since you showered?”
So much for overlooking her lack of personal hygiene. “I plead the fifth.”
“I get that you’re nursing a broken heart.” Her sister reached into the second grocery bag and started pulling out what she apparently considered real food. Baby carrots. Hummus. Chicken cutlets. Bananas. “But you’re going to have to leave this apartment eventually.”
“Eventually can be a long, long time.” With the bags unpacked, Brooke got to work putting the perishables in the refrigerator.
“What about the bar? Don’t they need you?”
“I’ve been cutting back on my hours there, working on my book and doing more freelance design stuff.”
“That’s good, I guess.” Mallory picked up a banana, peeled it, and took a bite. “But you’re going to have to rejoin the land of the living at some point. You’re not the first person to be unlucky in love.”
“More than unlucky, Mal.” Brooke put the last of the perishables in the refrigerator, closed the door, and slumped against it. “He lied to me. About everything. Our entire relationship was one big, colossal joke to him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know the whole time he was screwing me, he was planning on evicting me.”
“Do you?” Mallory asked. “He said he was buying the building, but did he tell you what he was going to do with it?”
“Not exactly,” Brooke hedged. “But he’s a big-time real estate developer. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he’s going to tear this place to the ground and put up a luxury high-rise. Or convert it into overpriced condos for the nouveau riche.”
“I’ll admit, it doesn’t look good.” Mallory polished off the banana and threw the peel in the trash. “But didn’t he give you some kind of explanation when you asked him?”
“I didn’t ask.” Brooke tore open the bag of Chex mix and dug in.
Mallory nodded knowingly. “Now I’m getting the picture. You did your cut-and-run routine.”
What was she talking about? Brooke was all fight, not flight. “I do not cut and run.”
“You don’t think you do, but you do.” Mallory pulled a stool out from under the counter and sat. “Why else would you be living way out here?”
Brooke took a seat on the stool across from her, putting the bag of Chex mix between them. “It’s Brooklyn, Mal. Not Bosnia.”
“Might as well be.” Mallory grabbed a handful of Chex mix and popped some into her mouth. “Look, I’m not saying running is always a bad thing. Sometimes a little distance is healthy. Necessary, even. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”
