Hello Adventure

Chapter 14

I banged on double doors of Brooke's suite.

"Brooke!" I whispered even though I really wanted to scream so loud that George and Amal would hear me across the lake. I paddled my open palm upon her door. "Come on, Brooke, wake up and let me in! We have a meeting!"

At least starting at 6:00 a.m. meant I'd have plenty of time to deal with her nonsense today and have her ready for the evening re-shoot. She wouldn't get away her antics again. Not only my watch. I banged on the door harder.

Finally, the double doors jerked open.

Had Brooke answered the door as I expected, I would tell you all about the suite—I'd start with the sunlight and describe how the massive, heavily draped windows led out onto a sun-bleached balcony where the early autumn morning light was prancing off the lake. I would tell you about the velvet chairs and the dark shine of the polished marble, of the Art Deco doors and high ceilings. But I couldn't concentrate on any of the suite's splendor because all I could do was stare dumbly at Dale who was standing in front of me instead of Brooke.

"Hey?" he said, his question mirroring the surprise written on my face. "What are you doing here?"

He moved out of the way to let me in, and I passed him close enough to get a fleeting whiff of the warm, woodsy smell of this shampoo. His face was flecked with morning stubble and his hair was still damp from the shower.

I wasn't expecting him to have slept over Brooke's last night. I would have thought after such a big order and all his additional work, he would have been too tired.

This is just great, I thought grimly. He and Brooke probably didn't get a moment of sleep. Now she's going to be unfocused on set today because of this. My temper began to boil up again like a kettle.

"I'm looking for Brooke—this is her room, isn't it?" There was a bite to my question. I was letting our vinegary bickering from last night sting my words. "You'll be happy to hear we're starting early today to make sure what happened yesterday doesn't happen again today."

"Well, she's not here," he said coolly, rubbing his hands on the towel tucked into his jeans. He left me standing at the door and went back over to the kitchen.

Just then, I realized I should be asking him why he was here. I had to remember I wasn't supposed to know that he and Brooke were a couple.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, infusing the question with pretend innocence.

He didn't look me in the eye and instead inspected a spoon of batter with the critical eye of a laboratory scientist.

"I asked her if I could borrow her kitchen, since I'm not in a suite and the hotel kitchens are too busy with breakfast at this hour. I wanted to get a jump on the dessert you need today."

"So George and Amal got their cakes then?"

"Uh huh," he grunted, distracted. He frowned at the batter. "I'm having an issue with the Sicilian blood orange tarts, I'm worried they're going to come out looking too wobbly on film." He brooded, and I couldn't help but smile at his seriousness.

"You're worried about your tarts looking too wobbly?"

"Yeah, jiggly, runny. Because it wasn't supposed to be this hot in October! So I want to try a few different recipe variations with a bit more starch to see if I can get the texture right before this evening's shoot."

"I see," I said.

There was a hanging pause in the conversation, and I knew this was my chance to apologize for yesterday.