Tempting BAD: VIP Spin Off (56 page)

She smiled. “Very good, Devon, very good. Tell me about the girl? How’s that going?”

I shrugged. “The same. I haven’t spoken or seen her since…” I paused, thinking about it. “Maybe shy of six months now. I still feel awful for what I did to her, but a part of me knows that… or at least hopes that she knows that. I have to forgive myself and I struggle with that everyday, but it’s getting easier. I think,” I added. “My family and I are closer than ever. I have even cut back being at the club so much. My staff can handle it. I’m trying to let go of some control, ‘trying’ being the operative word, Doc.”

She laughed. “It will get easier, I promise. Control isn’t a bad thing, Devon. You just need to learn when to let it go sometimes. And love is brutal, especially for someone like you; like both of you. It’s very difficult to make a relationship work in general. Now add in two broken people, who didn’t love themselves, into the equation; it’s usually a recipe for disaster. How can you love someone, if you don’t love yourself?”

I nodded. “I understand. If I could go back, you know what? I can’t go back. All I can do is move forward the best I can.”

“You can’t change the past, Devon, the years of abuse you underwent will take a lot of healing. It’s why you have me.”

“Yeah… I know.”

“Good, because our time is up. Homework time.”

“Oh, how I love the homework,” I sarcastically said.

“I want you to start journaling, the good days, the bad days, the in between days. I want you to write them down, and try to do it at least once a day. Nighttime would work best, since you can reflect on your day.”

“Okay.”

“Here you go.” She handed me a notebook.

“Didn’t think I’d go get one, Doc?”

She laughed. “I like to eliminate any what ifs. I’ll see you next week.”

I shook her hand, and went to pick up Ethan from my mom’s.

“How was he?” I asked, kissing him on the head. He barely turned to acknowledge me, too captivated by Elmo on the screen.

“An angel, exactly like his father.”

“Hmm…” I replied, kissing her head.

“You look good, honey, I’m proud of you. I know how much it’s taking you to keep going back to therapy, but it’s working. I can see it in your eyes.”

I grinned. “Oh yeah? What do you see, Mom?”

“The calm to your storm,” she simply stated, making me smile, and think about her.

“Nice choice of words.”

“I think so, Mom always knows best.”

“That you do, huh?”

“Everything will be okay, Devon, you’ll see.”

And for the first time in a long time,

I believed her.

“Madam—”

“Brooke. Andrew, I’ve told you before my name is Brooke, not Madam,” I interrupted.

“I know, Mad… Brooke, it takes some getting use to.”

“Well get use to it. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I’ve been working with VIP since before you were born, and it’s never run the way you’re doing it. It’s never been better.”

“Thank you, I agree.” We laughed.

“I’m serious. You’re doing right by these VIP’s, and they know that. The fact that you’re only taking twenty-five percent cut, and giving them seventy-five percent. Well that speaks volumes.”

“I’ve been on the other side of this desk, they do more of the work than I do. I don’t need the money; trust me I have more than I know what to do with. I want my girls happy, and as long as they continue to be, then I’m doing my job.”

“It’s refreshing.”

We continued our meeting, then we exchanged goodbyes, and he left. I had been in charge of VIP for the last nine months. The transition was fairly easy, I already knew a lot about the organization. Though Andrew wasn’t exaggerating, I definitely changed a lot of things; I gave it the makeover it needed. It was refreshing for the VIPs’ as much as the clients.

I wanted the girls to have their own lives, outside of VIP. It was what they did, it wasn’t who they were, and I let them know that immediately. Some of them had boyfriends, and as long as they didn’t fuck with my business, then I didn’t care. I wanted them to feel like they were more than an escort; I never called them treasured jewels. They provided a service, and in exchange they got a family.

VIP.

They worked when they wanted to, some more than others. They came and went as they saw fit for their lives, not mine. They made their own rules, and I followed them. I didn’t pretend like Madam. I had been on the other side of that desk, and I sure as hell fixed everything that needed to change. No longer the outsider looking in.

I also got closer to my family, we had weekly gatherings at my parents’ house with my sisters, and their families. I accepted my parents’ marriage for what it was. They were happy, and at the end of the day that’s all that mattered. I was no one to judge anyone’s relationship, and if it worked for them, then it was their business. Not mine. I wished I had realized that decades ago.

Ysabelle and Sebastian found their way back to each other, as I knew they would. They were happy, and I was delighted for them. They deserved there happily ever after. More than anyone I knew.

That’s why I held the invitation so tightly in my hand. It had been delivered that afternoon, and I had yet to read the letter that was attached. I was terrified of what it would say, but I imagined it couldn’t be half as bad as my mind thought it would be. I unfolded the piece of paper.

Dear Brooke,

I’m sure you’re thinking why am I sending you an invitation to Ethan’s birthday party. Plain and simple; our family misses you, and even though my son doesn’t say it, I know he misses you too. Forgiveness is a very tricky thing, because you never want to forget the past. Mistakes are made to make us better people, people we are proud to say we are. It has taken me a very long time to realize that…

I spent many decades blaming myself for my deceased husband’s choices; too much time. The truth is I wasn’t the one that hurt our family, he was. Devon has had to face the ultimate sacrifice for us all. My boy grew up too fast; too soon. But you brought life back into him. I saw a light that I never thought would be possible for him. He had seen too much, experienced too much. You. You put a Band-Aid on a situation that needed to be stitched and healed. And I will always be grateful to you for that.

I've learned that you can't change the past Brooke. However, the future is a completely different story.

That is why you are holding that invitation, and this letter in your hands. You both deserve a storybook ending. Ethan’s birthday party is in six weeks. I think that will give you plenty of time to think it over.

I trust that you will make the right decision, for the both of you. A mother’s intuition is always right. You’ll learn that one-day.

With love, Jasmine.

I read the letter fifteen times, and then I read it again four times every day for the next week. It got to the point where I knew it by heart. After the first few days I started to believe her words.

I’ve learned that you can’t change the past, Brooke, however… the future. That’s a completely different story.

So I turned the page.

To my story…

To his story…

To our story.

“Happy birthday, buddy, are you having a good time?”

“YES!” he shouted, making Christine and I laugh, and then he took off running.

“I can’t believe we have a four year old. How did time go by this fast?” she asked, looking over at him.

“I have no idea. It feels like yesterday that we were bringing him home.”

She nodded, smiling. “You think you will have any more kids? I think he needs some siblings,” she stated, looking behind me.

“Yeah… I’ll get right on that, seeing as I have so many possibilities at my disposal.”

“I think you have one.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What?”

She smiled higher, still looking behind me.

“What are you grinning about?”

She nodded behind me. I turned, and that’s when I saw her. She looked better than I remembered, wearing the exact same outfit I had bought her in New Orleans. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and completely swept away from her face. I watched all of her emotions roll into one through her Bambi eyes, as I stepped closer to her. She wore very minimal makeup; she looked like the girl I would wake up to every morning.

“Sneakers, huh?”

She giggled.

God I missed that sound.

“Believe it or not… I dress like this all the time now.”

I grinned. “Liar.”

She held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. Someone once told me I should be more comfortable in my own skin, and I agree with him now. My feet very much appreciate it. They were starting to hate me.”

I laughed. “Well you look great.”

“Thanks, you do too.”

“What are you doing here?” I blurted unable to hold in the question any longer.

She bit her cheek, and looked behind me, just as Christine had done minutes before. I took the subtle hint and turned around, I found my mother staring at us. She winked when she caught my gaze, and went right back to talking to one of the guests.

I turned back around to face her. “I see.”

“Yeah… but,” she hesitated, contemplating what to say next. “I was going to… I mean… I’ve been wanting to… I mean… shit I suck at this,” she breathed out.

Her nervousness was adorable, and it took everything inside me not to reach out and grab her. I wanted to hold her in my arms, just to feel her again; the intoxicating smell of her was all around me. I was drunk on it.

She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “What I’m trying to say is that… I was going to call you, or maybe just show up at your office naked.”

I busted out laughing.

“I mean that seemed to work before,” she grinned, beaming. “I’m only being half serious. I missed you. Fuck… Devon, I don’t think I ever stopped missing you. I’m not the same person I used to be. I’ve changed a lot.”

I pointed to her outfit. “I can tell.”

“I’m being serious. I’m Madam, I mean… I’m still Brooke, but I’ve taken over.”

“I know.”

She lowered her eyebrows.

“Ysabelle.”

She nodded, understanding.

“Listen… about that… she and I—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I know everything. I’m not going to lie to you, and say that it didn’t hurt me, and that it still doesn’t… but I understand. You were both in a bad place, and we rely on those we love for comfort sometimes. Shit happens. It’s in the past. I don’t want to rehash something we can’t change.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for it all. Every last bit of it,” I honestly replied. “I fucked up.”

“I know, we both did, but you broke my heart, Devon, I mean shattered it. I never thought I would be capable of falling in love with you, and now I don’t think I’m capable of falling out of love with you. A part of me hates you for it. I hate you for making me feel like I can’t breathe. I wake up every morning and I look at my phone, I go to sleep with it clutched in my hand, hoping that I will hear a text message while I sleep. Every day that goes by, and I don’t hear from you… it becomes easier to breathe. I don’t want it to become easier. I don’t want to say goodbye to you. To us.” Her eyes watered. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”