Weekend Getaway

Chapter 2 - Priorities

Trenton guided Brooke along through the crowded restaurant to an awaiting Leena.  The two women grinned and hugged in greeting.  Soon the three were catching up like no time at all had passed since they had seen each other armed with great drinks and appetizers. Trenton kept checking his phone and glancing toward the door for his friend who had yet to show.

Their favorite restaurant was bustling to life even on a weeknight. The nautical decor was appropriate for a restaurant called "The Boat," but the food was unmatched. Brooke had been longing for the green salad with unique house dressing since Christmas. Her plate was soon empty.

A buzzing from her purse vibrating through her thigh pulled Brooke's attention away from Trenton's story.  An unknown number on the screen made her brows furrow, but she answered it anyway, plugging her opposite ear with a finger.

"Hello?" she answered loudly over the noise of the sports game. "Yes, this is Brooke Johnson...Um...yeah, let me get to a place where I can hear you better. I'm at dinner. Just a second." Then to Trenton and Leena, "I'll be right back."

Quickly making her way through the crowd, Brooke headed back outside the front door. 

"OK, yes this is Brooke Johnson."

"Hi Brooke," the woman's tense voice repeated. "I'm calling from Arcadia Hospital.  You are listed as Adriana Johnson's emergency contact."

"Oh God, what happened?" Her heart began to race, assuming the worst. "Is my daughter alright?"

"Yes, Ma'am, Melody is fine," she assured. "She is with a social worker until you arrive.  Your mother collapsed, and your daughter called 9-1-1.  They just got here, and Melody gave us your cell number."

"I'll grab my purse and be there in 15 minutes. I'm not far," Brooke answered. She laid a hand on her chest willing the racing muscle to calm.

"Drive safely," the nurse answered before ending the call.

Brooke had to take a moment to calm herself, fighting the tears threatening to spill.  She had to stay healthy, not just for her mom, but for Melody. Her five-year-old knew Grandma was sick but didn't understand how severely. Once composed enough to face her friends, Brooke spun to return inside.  She immediately slammed into a firm chest. Strong hands grabbed her arms, steadying her from falling.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brooke apologized immediately, risking a gaze upward at the person she assaulted.

The frowning, brooding man released her after giving a once over. The drool-worthy specimen in dark wash jeans, a white button down with rolled up sleeves, glowered.

"Watch where you are going!" he barked. He stepped away from her and headed for the restaurant's crimson doors.

"Hey," Brooke snapped back, fist on her popped out hip.  He stopped abruptly, turning halfway to face her.  Dark chocolate eyes slowly trailed downward then flicked back to Brooke's. One dark eyebrow lifted. "I said I was sorry.  A gentleman would also apologize and accept mine."

He had the audacity to shrug. "I'm not a gentleman."

Brook scoffed then made her way toward the door in an angry huff.  She had other priorities to deal with other than a jerk who felt as if he was God's gift to women.

Luckily, he disappeared into the crowd around the bar.  Brooke arrived at their table and grabbed her purse.  Her companions watched with grave concern.

"Hey," Trenton exclaimed. "My friend just...got here..."  He frowned and watched Brooke gather her things in bewilderment.

"Moms at Arcadia," she explained, quickly pulling out cash to pay her portion of the food yet to arrive. "Melody is with a social worker."