Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (172 page)

‘I haven't even spoken to him yet.'

‘Well in that case, let me give you a word of advice. Call him up and
congratulate
him. This is
exciting.
It's a milestone! The clearest indication that he's made it. Don't get caught up in the small stuff, okay?'

‘I'll try.'

‘Take that magazine, get in bed, and think about the fact that girls across America are wishing they could trade places with you right now.'

Brooke laughed. ‘I don't know about that.'

‘It's true. Okay, I've got to go to sleep. Stop stressing and just enjoy, okay?'

‘Thanks, I will. Love you.'

‘Love you too.'

Brooke picked up the magazine and examined the picture again, only this time she focused on Julian. It was true, there was no denying that in the moment this photo was snapped, he looked like he was filled with love for her, doting and happy and sweet. What more could she ask for? And although she'd never admit it to anyone, it was pretty heady stuff to see yourself in a magazine like that and know your husband was a heartthrob. Nola was right – she should just let herself enjoy it for a little. No harm in that.

She picked up her cell phone and typed a quick text to Julian:

Just saw Last Night – so awesome, I'm so proud of you. Thanks for the ridic flowers, love them, love you. xoxo

There. That's what Julian needed right now – some love and support, not more criticism and freaking out. Proud of herself for fighting through her initial panic, Brooke set her phone aside and picked up her book. There were ups and downs in every marriage, she told herself as she began to read. Theirs were heightened a bit by extraordinary circumstances, no doubt, but with some dedication and effort on both their parts, it was nothing they couldn't get through.

Walter Alter rested his chin on Brooke's ankle and let out a contented sigh. ‘This is cozy, isn't it?' she asked him, and he blinked. When she handed him a fat piece of popcorn, he sniffed it and then gently plucked it from her fingertips with his mouth.

It felt so good to be curled up on the couch, looking forward to Julian's arrival and a chance to spend some real time together, but her mind kept drifting back to Kaylie. Although they'd kept in close contact all summer, she'd been shocked when she first laid eyes on her patient at the start of the new school year. It turned out Heather had been right: Kaylie had lost too much weight, enough that it nearly took Brooke's breath away when the girl had first walked in her office. They'd immediately had a long conversation about the difference between healthful food choices and dangerous crash dieting – talks that had continued over the past few weeks – and Brooke was starting to feel hopeful that she was making progress.

Her cell phone buzzed and snapped her back to reality. It was a text from Julian saying he was twenty minutes away. She raced into the bathroom, tearing off her clothes as she ran, intent on at least rinsing away the lingering Windex smell from her hair and hands after a particularly intense, slightly OCD housecleaning fit. She had just stepped under the water when she heard Walter begin to bark with a franticness that could only mean one thing.

‘Julian? I'll be out in two minutes!' she called in vain, knowing from experience he wouldn't be able to hear a thing from the living room.

A moment later, she felt the rush of cold air rush in before she even saw the door open. He materialized out of the steam almost immediately, and despite the fact that he'd seen her naked thousands upon thousands of times before, Brooke had an intense, almost desperate desire to cover herself. The clear plastic curtain made her feel as exposed as she would have been showering in the middle of Union Square.

‘Hey, Rook,' he said, raising his voice to make himself heard over the running water and Walter's frenzied barks.

She first turned her back to him and then berated herself for being so ridiculous. ‘Hey,' she said. ‘I'm almost done here. Why don't you wait for me … uh, grab a Coke and I'll be right out.'

She was met with silence before he said okay, and Brooke knew he was probably hurt. Again, she reminded herself that she was entitled to her feelings and she didn't have to apologize for them or explain herself.

‘I'm sorry,' she called while keeping her back to the door, although she could sense he'd already left.
Don't apologize!
She berated herself again.

She rinsed as quickly as possible and toweled off even faster. Julian was not in the bedroom, thankfully, and she furtively – as though there was company over who might accidentally walk in at any moment – threw on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. There was no choice but to quickly comb out her wet hair and gather it into a ponytail. She glanced in the mirror and hoped that the ruddiness of her makeup-free face would look like some sort of healthy, happy glow to Julian, although she suspected this was unlikely. It wasn't until she stepped into the living room and saw her husband settled on the sofa, reading last Sunday's real estate section of the
Times
with Walter by his side, that the excitement hit her.

‘Welcome home,' she said, hoping it didn't sound as fraught as it felt. She sat next to him on the couch. He looked at her, smiled, and gave her what felt like a rather lukewarm hug.

‘Hey, baby. I'm so happy to be home, you can't even imagine. If I never see another hotel room …'

After leaving in the middle of her dad's party, Julian had come home for two nights in late September, one of which was spent at the studio. He'd left to promote the new album, hitting the road for another three weeks, and although they'd both been good about e-mail, Skype, and phone calls, the distance was beginning to feel insurmountable.

‘Finding anything good?' she asked, sitting next to him on the couch. She wanted to kiss him but couldn't get past the lingering awkwardness.

He pointed to a listing titled ‘Tribeca Luxury Loft.' It boasted three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a home office, a shared roof deck, a gas fireplace, a full-time doorman, and a tax abatement for the ‘Best Downtown Value' price of $2.6 million. ‘Look at this one. Prices are falling like crazy.'

Brooke tried to ascertain whether or not he was kidding. Like every New York couple, they often participated in Sunday-morning real estate porn by circling listings that were astronomically out of their price range and wondering aloud what it would be like to actually own them. But something about this felt different.

‘Yeah, it's a total bargain. We should buy two and combine them. Maybe three,' she laughed.

‘Seriously, Brooke, two point six is very reasonable for a full-service three-bedroom in Tribeca.'

She stared at the person sitting next to her and wondered where on earth her husband had gone. Was this the same man who ten months earlier had fought vigorously to re-sign the lease on the Times Square apartment they both loathed because he didn't want to spend the extra thousand dollars it would cost to pay a moving company?

‘You know, Rook,' he said, continuing despite the fact that she'd said nothing, ‘I know it must feel surreal when you really think about it, but we can afford a place like this. With everything that's starting to come in, we could easily put twenty percent down. And with all the paid performances I have lined up, plus the record royalties, the monthly payments would be more than manageable.'

Once again she didn't know what to say.

‘Wouldn't you love to live in a place like this?' he asked, pointing to the picture of an ultramodern loft with exposed-pipe ceilings and an overall industrial-chic feel. ‘It's freaking awesome.'

Every fiber of her wanted to scream no.
No,
she didn't want to live in a converted warehouse.
No,
she didn't want to live in faraway, hyper-trendy Tribeca with its world-class galleries and fancy restaurants and nowhere to get a cup of bodega coffee or a basic burger.
No,
if she had two million dollars to spend on an apartment, that was absolutely, positively
not
what she would choose. It almost felt like she was having this conversation with a complete stranger, considering the number of times they'd dreamed together of owning a town house in Brooklyn or, if that was out of reach – and it always had been – then maybe a floor-through in a town house on a quiet, tree-lined street, perhaps with a little garden out back and lots of great molding. Something warm and cozy, prewar preferably, with high ceilings and charm and character. A home for a family in a real neighborhood with independent bookstores and cute coffee shops and a couple of cheap but good restaurants where they could be regulars. The exact opposite, actually, of that steely cold Tribeca loft in the picture. She couldn't help but wonder when Julian's ideal had shifted so drastically and, more to the point, why.

‘Leo just moved into a new building on Duane Street with a hot tub on the roof deck,' he continued. ‘He said he's never seen more attractive people in one place in his entire life. And he eats at Nobu Next Door like three times a week. Can you imagine?'

‘Do you want some coffee?' she blurted out, desperate to change the subject. Every word he uttered managed to upset her even more.

He glanced up at her and appeared to study her face. ‘You okay?'

She turned her back and headed to the kitchen, where she spooned coffee into the filter basket. ‘I'm fine,' she called.

Julian's iPhone whooshed as he sent texts or IMs from the next room. Overcome with an inexplicable sadness, she leaned against the counter and watched the coffee drip into the pot, bit by bit. She prepared their mugs as she always did. Julian took the coffee, but he didn't look up from his phone.

‘Hello?' she said, trying unsuccessfully to mask her irritation.

‘Sorry, just a text from Leo. He asked me to call him right away.'

‘By all means …' She knew her tone made it clear she meant the exact opposite.

He peered at her and, for the first time since arriving, put the phone in his pocket. ‘No, I'm here right now. Leo can wait. I want us to talk.'

He paused for a moment, as though waiting for her to say something. It felt like a strange flashback to their early dating days, although she didn't
ever
remember feeling this kind of awkwardness or distance before, not even in the beginning when they were practically strangers.

‘I'm all ears,' she said, wanting nothing more than for him to envelop her in a bear hug, announce his undying love for her, and swear that life would immediately go back to normal. Back to boring and poor and predictable. Back to happy. And while that was unlikely – and she really didn't want that anyway, since it would mean the end of Julian's career – she would have loved for him to initiate a real conversation about the challenges they'd been facing and a strategy for dealing with them.

‘Come here, Rook,' he said with such tenderness that her heart surged.

Oh, thank god.
He got it, he also felt the strain of never seeing each other, and he wanted to figure out how to make it better. She felt a glimmer of hope.

‘Tell me what you're thinking,' she said softly, hoping she conveyed an open, receptive feel. ‘It's been a hard few weeks, hasn't it?'

‘It has,' Julian said in agreement. He got that familiar look in his eye. ‘Which is why I think we deserve a vacation.'

‘A vacation?'

‘Let's go to Italy! We've been talking about going forever, and October is the perfect time of year. I think I can manage six or seven days off starting the end of next week. I just have to be back before the
Today
show
.
We'll hit Rome, Florence, Venice … take a gondola ride and pig out on pasta and wine. Just you and me. What do you say?'

‘That sounds amazing,' she said, before she remembered that Randy and Michelle's baby was due next month.

‘I know how much you love cured meats and cheeses.' He teased her, giving Brooke a poke. ‘Salted meats and hunks of Parmesan to your heart's content.'

‘Julian—'

‘If we're going to do it, let's just freaking go for it. I'm thinking we should fly first-class. White tablecloths, endless champagne, flat-bed seats. Really treat ourselves.'

‘It sounds incredible.'

‘Then why are you looking at me like that?' He pulled his knit cap off and ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Because I don't have any vacation days left, and it's right in the middle of the semester for the Huntley girls. Do you think we could go over Christmas instead? If we left on the twenty-third, it would give us almost—'

Julian released her hand and collapsed back into the couch with a loud, frustrated exhalation. ‘I have no idea what will be happening in December, Brooke. I know I can go now. I just can't believe you'd let something like that get in the way of an opportunity like this.'

Now it was her turn to stare at him. “‘
That
” happens to be my job. Julian, I've taken off more days this year than anyone. There is no way I can just march in there and ask for another
week
off. I would be fired immediately.'

His eyes were steely when they met hers. ‘Would that really be so bad?'

‘I'm going to pretend you didn't say that.'

‘No, I'm serious, Brooke. Would that be the worst thing in the world? Between Huntley and the hospital, you've been killing yourself. Is it so horrible to suggest that you take some time off?'

Everything was spinning out of control. No one knew better than Julian that Brooke needed to get through one more year before she'd hopefully be opening her own practice. Not to mention how close she'd grown to a couple of the girls, especially Kaylie.