Page 10 of Falling into Place
Her therapist would probably say Carly’s tendency toward perfection was a way of concealing what really happened behind the aging, paint-chipped front door of her childhood home, but that didn’t matter now. She was independent, successful, and happy, which was more than a lot of people could say.
“If you want to know the truth,” Sasha said, likely interpreting Carly’s musings as reluctance, which wasn’t wrong, “I’m doing this to revitalize our business, yes. But I could have found another guy. Macy and I decided to ask Brooks because we think he needs this, too.”
Brooks needed what? Help meeting women?
That was absurd.
Ridiculous.
Impossible.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s spent the last decade and a half of his life in school and hospitals. Don’t get me wrong—I’m proud of him. But he’s not the same guy he was back in high school.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Carly said without thinking. Yes, teenage Carly’d had a mild crush on him, along with the majority of their friends, but even then she’d had enough sense to recognize Brooks had some growing up to do.
Though at the time, it only seemed fair to give the Martin siblings a pass for temporary behavior changes after losing their mom so suddenly. Sasha had been sixteen and Brooks seventeen. Carly didn’t know the oldest, Macy, very well but knew she’d been closer to twenty or twenty-one at the time.
Sasha had refused to come out of her room for a month after the accident, and when she’d returned, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about it.
At all.
Brooks, on the other hand, handled the loss of his mom in a stereotypical, dramatic Hollywood fashion. He went off the deep endand pivoted from popular-but-straitlaced basketball star to a partying risk-taker who rarely said no.
“For the most part, no,” Sasha said, bringing Carly back to the question about comparing past Brooks with now. “He nearly destroyed himself his senior year, and I’m thankful he put that behavior behind him. But it’s like he went too far in the other direction, you know? All he does is work. He hardly smiles anymore. He’ll always answer our calls but never calls us himself. He has no social life to speak of. He’s young and a doctor, for God’s sake. He’s finally out of training and has some free time, though you wouldn’t know it talking to him. He should be on dates every weekend. Instead, he got a cat and started a garden. Macy thinks he’s depressed.”
“Hey, I have a cat. I’m not depressed.”
“You go out. You have friends. It’s not the same. I’m just worried about him, you know?”
It was hard to picture Brooks as his sister described him. After high school Carly had moved to Nebraska for almost ten years, so she’d missed a huge chunk of his life. But still, an image of him sitting alone in a dark living room was all wrong. He was too small there, the darkness larger than him, and that wasn’t the guy she remembered. With all that dark hair, his long, lean body, and a killer smile, he’d filled every room to the brim with charisma and energy. He brought jokes and fun and excitement, no matter how ill-advised. When Brooks Martin sauntered through the doorway, everyone knew it, whether they laid eyes on him or not.
When he was nearby, people could feel it.
“Wow. I just ... I had no idea.”
“He doesn’t really let Macy or me in anymore, but I’m hoping it will be different with you. I’ll be honest: You have your work cut out for you. But I know you’ll work that Carly Porter magic and transform more than just his wardrobe.”
“The wardrobe’s the easy part,” Carly said, and Sasha laughed.
“Not this time.”
Carly frowned. “Now you’re making me nervous.”
Sasha waved a hand. “Nah, you got this. I promise. Plus he’s not married, so there’s no chance you’ll be accused of being a home-wrecker.”
“Thank God,” Carly said, thinking of all the training she’d just finished retaking, punctuated with her signature on Mode’s new code of conduct. “I don’t think I could afford another scandal. Even a completely made-up one.”
“You and I both know you’re the last person who would hook up with a client, and deep down, Mai knows it, too. In a few months, that awful Princeton woman will be the last thing on your mind as Mai’s offering you a promotion and a raise, and you’ll never have to use a calculator again. Now, let’s go celebrate, yeah?”
“Yes. Let’s.”
“Where to?”
“Hideout?”
“Perfect.”
