In the Long Run (Patreon)

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A little excerpt for you all :)

Chapter One

Brooke Watson didn’t like San Diego. She’d decided that about two days ago when she’d arrived for the conference.

She didn’t enjoy conferences, either. She’d decided that twelve years ago, after attending her first one.

She definitely did not like conferences in San Diego, especially when they put her on the spot to do a presentation she hadn’t been prepared for, after having been at said conference for three days already. Could no one give her a heads up in that time?

You’d think.

Brooke was good behind the scenes; actually, no, she was fucking great behind the scenes. She’d worked her way up to running her city’s financial department by thirty and was managing the city by thirty-seven.

In front of a crowd, with no preparation, though?

She mustered up a smile that she was certain looked more like a grimace for the bartender as he poured her a Sprite – accompanied with a strange look, but whatever – and she was more than grateful that he walked away quickly to tend the other side of the bar.

Generally speaking, she didn’t love fancy bars, either. Fancy bars in a city that was too big for her liking, where the music was way too loud. And why did they have the music pumping this loud, anyway? It was only three o’clock in the afternoon!

If she didn’t know for a solid fact what time it was – confirming with both her watch and her phone – then, given how dimly lit they kept this establishment and how loud they had the music, she’d think she was at a club at two in the morning. The name of this place escaped her, but she wondered if this was this place’s niche or something. Or maybe this was just a thing here. Could be, considering she was far from the only patron here so early.

She didn’t even really go to her own bar back in Faircombe, Tennessee, but the sight of it was much more comforting than this one. Lowkey, quieter, locals only.

She scowled, then groaned, propping her elbow up on the bar and pressing her still-too-warm cheek against her hand.

This was the closest bar to the convention center where she had just utterly humiliated herself in front of all of her… somewhat peers.

It wasn’t like she worked with other city officials often enough to really consider them her actual peers. She really only ever saw them at these types of things.

And normally at these conferences, she was way different than what she’d just put on. She didn’t stumble over her words or drop ridiculous index cards she’d been given to do the presentation – because if she’d been asked to do a presentation in the first place, it would have been memorized! It also would have been short, concise, and to-the-point. None of that rambling, filler crap she’d just made a fool of herself trying to do.

Then again, she’d never been tasked to present at one of these conferences, either. Her very first time rising above the mark and that was what she’d done…

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all of the world, did Brooke Watson walk into mine?”

If it were possible to make herself even smaller sitting at the corner of this bar, she would have. As it was, she pretended she didn’t hear her name and hunched closer over the bar. The music was definitely loud enough that she could easily pretend she hadn’t heard anything.

She resolutely was not turning her head to look at whoever was attempting to invade her alone time. Right now was her time to sit here and be annoyed and humiliated in peace. After all, she had to get back to the conference in an hour to give her own actual presentation and she needed that hour to be able to gather herself.

She definitely didn’t want to talk to anyone from the damn conference. Considering that was the only reason she was even in this city in the first place, whoever was seeking her out had to be –

“No, really. Brooke?” The voice – low, with a rasp and a comfortingly familiar twang she could recognize now through the music – was infinitely closer, as a hand touched her elbow.

Instinctively, she jerked her arm down and away from the touch, even as she resigned herself to the fact that she couldn’t abjectly ignore her intruder anymore.

Breathing in through her nose, she prepared herself to put on some semblance of a look like she wouldn’t rather bite off her own tongue than face whomever was standing there.

Only to lose the expression entirely, eyes widening in genuine surprise as she turned.

Taylor Vandenberg stood close enough to her that Brooke could feel her body heat.

Taylor Vandenberg, in all of her Taylor Vandenberg glory, right here in a bar in Southern California, in the middle of the afternoon – Brooke narrowly managed to bite back a snort at the thought. Yeah, somehow that aspect didn’t come as much of a surprise.

Her dark chestnut brown waves that had always looked unfairly good were still long, cascading down her back and over her shoulder as she grinned down at Brooke from where she stood, hand cocked on her hip. Her red shirt was designed to hang off one shoulder, clingy around her collarbones, as it snuggly fit tucked into dark jeans. Effortlessly stylish and ridiculously hot.

Of course.

Taylor’s eyes glinted in question at her. They appeared unfathomably dark here in the bar, but Brooke knew with the proper lighting, they’d be just a shade lighter than her pupils, and they seemed to grin all on their own. Her eyes, they did that – reflect teasing or laughter. Even if the rest of her face was covered, you’d know Taylor was grinning at you with just a quick glance.

Even if they didn’t see one another with any sort of regularity anymore, not for a long while, Brooke was very familiar with that teasing, mischievous glint. It was aimed toward her enough in her youth to be unforgettable.

The thought of it made her scowl all over again as she shook herself out of the surprised stupor.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, clearing her throat as she tilted her head up.

She knew that even if she wasn’t sitting, she’d have to tilt her head up to meet Taylor’s gaze.

“I’m living here.”

Now that alone begged a handful of questions, but Brooke was not in the mood to ask them. Really, she wasn’t in the mood for company at all, including a surprise appearance from Taylor.

Brooke arched a disbelieving eyebrow even as she turned back to her drink. “I didn’t think you lived anywhere in particular.”

Taylor – unsurprisingly – was entirely unaffected by her dismissive tone. She pulled out the stool next to Brooke’s and fell into it in a move that was far more graceful than it should have been. She had on leather boots that rose up high enough that it was the thick fabric of those boots that brushed and settled against Brooke’s own slack-covered legs.

Brooke stared at the point of contact and squirmed back in her seat as her stomach seemed to squirm, itself. But as her chair was wedged against the wall, she really had nowhere to back up to.

“Well, I’m living here, for now. But I thought the for now was implied.” She crossed her legs, drawing her foot up Brooke’s calf as she did so, and then settled just there.

Brooke wiggled her leg against Taylor’s slightly, gaining the slightest of centimeters of her space back, before giving up with a sigh of defeat. With Taylor’s legs pressed against hers and her chair scooted in so close just by nature of the setup of the bar, she’d have to move before Brooke could get out on her own. Her body was still close enough for Brooke to feel her warmth, and yet – it didn’t feel intrusive. It felt uncalculated and easy, even if it was closer than Brooke would have typically allowed someone to sit.

It was uncomfortable for the very frustrating, betrayal response her body had from a simple touch. Taylor’s touch wasn’t uncomfortable beyond the fact that it was totally encompassing.

It was always like that.