Page 23 of Falling into Place
Carly:Show off
Brooks:you started it with your fancy word for plaid
Carly:What time is the photographer getting there?
Brooks:5
Carly:Ugh. I have so much work to do today but all I can think about is the shirt that got away
He slid his phone back into his pocket, and one of the nurses he often worked with paused on her way past him.
“Dr. Martin?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
He glanced up at her, confused. “Yeah?”
She didn’t look convinced. “You were smiling.”
He was? Huh. But also, “You thought that meant something was wrong?”
“No. Maybe?” She winced. “Sorry, I’m just not sure I’ve ever seen you smile. Sort of weirded me out, I guess.” She continued on her way, leaving him stunned.
Well.
Note to self: Smile more at work.
Brooks got held up trying to leave after the department meeting that afternoon, which meant he didn’t have time to hit the gym before he went home.
Then he spilled his coffee getting out of the car. His early wake-up meant at this point he was running on fumes, so this was particularly distressing.
And when he walked into his house, he discovered Oreo had scratched the upholstery of the entire right side of one of his armchairs.
All things considered, he was in a terrible mood when Carly knocked on his door at four thirty.
She didn’t seem to notice, bustling in without so much as looking at him with her arms full of boxes and shopping bags dangling from her fingers. She started talking without slowing down, so he quickly closed the front door and followed her.
“I should have come earlier; I’m worried we won’t have enough time. Should I set up in your room?” She took off without waiting for a response. “I’ll lay out my suggestions in order of preference, and we can see which one you like best ... Oh, hi, Oreo.”
Seeing her drop all her crap to cuddle his cat might have improved his mood if (1) he wasn’t pissed at Oreo and (2) it weren’t for the next words out of her mouth.
“For God’s sake, Brooks.”
“What?”
“Do you ever make your bed?”
“No.” There were two sides to the age-old argument, and he was firmly in the there’s-no-point camp.
“I can’t work like this.”
“Guess we’ll have to cancel, then.” He tried to mask his annoyance with humor but wasn’t sure if it panned out. He was tired, undercaffeinated, and had very few fucks left, which he was saving for the unsuspecting photographer Sasha would be bringing. Carly deserved respect, and kindness, too, but if she could handle Sasha on a regular basis, one bad mood of his wouldn’t faze her.
Carly pursed her lips and deposited Oreo on the floor. She didn’t spare Brooks a single glance and went for his bed, tossing his pillows into a pile and pulling his top sheet toward the head of the bed.
“Carly,stop.”
