Not His Type (3 page)

“Injured in a
motorcycle accident.”

“Oh, that’s a
shame,” the man said.  “Well, uh, I guess you can give her a message.  Tell her
I’m real sorry, but – well, when she didn’t call in and missed three shifts, I
had to replace her.  Just let her know she can pick up her final check when she
brings her uniforms back.”

“Wait!” Travis
said, sitting up straighter.  “You can’t fire her!  Didn’t you just hear me? 
She’s in the hospital!”

“Sorry,” the man
said.  To his credit, he did sound as if he regretted the decision.  “But I
gotta have my waitresses.  She’s only part-time, but I can’t hold her
position.  If I have an opening when she’s better, I’ll hire her back.  She’s a
hard worker and honest, too.”

“All right,”
Travis said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Travis hung up
the phone.  He set it on his desk and looked down at Boo.  The dog’s forehead
twitched as if he were raising eyebrows questioningly.

“What am I gonna
do now, Boo?” Travis asked.  “I just cost her one of her jobs.  I don’t think
your mom is gonna be happy with me.”

The big dog let
out an enormous sigh and put his head down on Travis’ foot.  Travis leaned down
and scratched the dog behind his ears.  He wondered how badly Brooke needed
that waitressing job.  He remembered the other “uniform” in her backpack;
something about hot dogs…Hot Diggity’s, that was it!  Travis looked it up on
the internet and found it; it was located in the food court at the mall. 
Travis used his own cell phone, dialed the number and asked to speak to a
manager.  A moment later, a very young sounding voice – complete with pubescent
cracking – came on the line.

“Bryan Hodges
speaking, may I help you?”

“Mr. Hodges, my
name is Travis Cooper,” Travis said.  “I’m Brooke Valentine’s neighbor, and I
wanted to –“

“Brooke!” the
young man interrupted.  “Where’s she been?  She was supposed to work yesterday
and she’s supposed to be here now!  Mr. Schmidt’s gonna fire her if she doesn’t
show up tomorrow!”

“No!” Travis
said quickly.  “Brooke’s in the hospital!”  He stopped and took a deep breath. 
“Look, when will Mr. Schmidt be available?  I’d like to speak with him about
Brooke’s situation.”

“Why’s she in
the hospital?”

“Motorcycle
accident,” Travis muttered.  “So…Mr. Schmidt?”

“Oh, he works
during the day most days,” Bryan answered.  “He’s usually in by ten.  I gotta
tell ya, man, he’s not very happy with Brooke right now.  He’s already started
callin’ some of the people who’ve applied lately.”

“Look, please
leave him a message.  Tell him I’ll call him tomorrow about Brooke, and ask him
to please not fire her until I talk to him!  Would you do that for me, please? 
For Brooke?”

“I’ll tell him,
mister.  But I can’t make any promises, y’know.”

“I know,” Travis
said.  “Just do the best you can, please.”

As Travis ended
the call and set his phone down, Brooke’s rang again.  He flipped it open and
saw the caller’s number was blocked.  Hesitating a moment, he answered the
phone.

“Hello?”

A recording
began playing, a woman’s nasal voice saying, “This is a message regarding an
urgent business matter for Bunny Brooklyn Valentine.  Please call Community
Credit Union regarding your account.”  The voice went on to leave a phone
number and extension.

Travis put the
phone down and sighed again.  He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at Boo.

“Well,
that
didn’t sound good,” he said.  “I wish I hadn’t answered it.”

Travis leaned
back, idly rotating his chair back and forth.  In the two months it took to
build his new house, he’d watched his neighbor coming and going.  He’d noted
her odd hours, but it simply hadn’t occurred to him that she was hurrying to
and from two jobs and college classes.

He thought about
her house and what he’d found inside.  The place was cozy, homey and neat as a
proverbial pin; it was also outdated, well worn and bordering on shabby.  What
he’d seen of her furniture appeared to be thrift store rejects in most cases;
it was worn and mismatched.  Travis had also taken her mail inside; he wasn’t
trying to be nosey, but he couldn’t miss seeing a pink notice from the electric
company.  He wondered what she’d done with the money he’d paid for the lot next
door.  Travis needed more information, but there was something going on with
his neighbor, and he didn’t think it was good.

He glanced at
his watch; eleven-forty, time to take a break and go check on his neighbor.  He
knew she’d had no other visitors; he’d asked two different nurses and neither
of them had seen any visitors going to or from Brooke’s room.  The doctor had
chosen to keep Brooke one more night after the seizure she’d had, but Travis thought
they might release her today.

When he arrived
at the hospital, Travis paused outside Brooke’s room; he heard voices from the
room.  He recognized Brooke’s voice, but not the other one.

“So you have no
insurance?” the voice said.  “I understand this was the result of a motorcycle
accident.  Perhaps your auto insurance would cover some of your expenses then.”

“No, I…I just
have the most basic coverage,” Travis heard Brooke reply.

“Well, Miss
Valentine,” the first voice said.  The voice was polite, but clearly unhappy. 
“We’ll have to work out a payment plan.  Before you leave the hospital, you’ll
need to stop by the business office and make at least a partial payment.”

“Oh…okay,”
Brooke answered.

Travis pushed
the door open; he smiled at Brooke, then turned to the woman in the dark suit. 
He offered his hand and she automatically took it.

“I’ll be taking
care of Miss Valentine’s expenses,” he said firmly.  “It’s my fault she’s
here.”

“Oh!” the woman
said, pleasantly surprised.  “Well, okay then.”  She looked down at her
paperwork.  “Are you Travis Cooper?”

“Yes, ma’am, I
am.”

“Well, if you’ll
come with me to the business office, we can make arrangements for payment.”

“Wait!” Brooke
protested.  She looked from the woman to Travis.  “Can I have a minute with Mr.
Cooper?”

“Certainly,” the
woman said.  She smiled at Travis.  “I’ll just go on to the business office and
see you there.”

Travis nodded. 
He turned to look curiously at Brooke.  Her heart-shaped face bore a slight frown. 
She seemed to be searching for the right words.

“Why are you
doing this?” she asked finally.

“What do you
mean?” Travis asked.

“Why are you
offering to pay my expenses, Mr. Cooper?”

“First, I’m not
offering
,”
he replied.  “I’m taking care of this because it’s my fault you’re here.”

“It was an
accident,” she argued, her gaze not meeting his.

“An accident
that could’ve been avoided,” Travis said.  “The flat tire was caused by
carelessness of one of my builders.  That caused you to take your bike in the
rain.  Then one of my guys walked out from between two trucks.”  He snorted
derisively, shaking his head.  “Isn’t that one of the first things every little
kid learns?  Don’t walk out from between parked cars?  And then, it was
carelessness that a piece of guttering was lying in the road.  In other words,
if I hadn’t been building a house next to yours, you wouldn’t be here right
now.”

Brooke lay there
for a long moment.  She understood and could see the logic in what Travis
Cooper said.  She also understood that he’d been in her house and had looked in
her backpack.  She knew exactly the impression he would’ve gotten from her
house:  clean, but shabby.  She knew what he would’ve found in her backpack: 
uniforms from two different low-paying jobs, used textbooks and a wallet
containing a grand total of three dollars.  Brooke pressed the heels of her
hands to her eyes, feeling the sting of tears of embarrassment.

“I’m not a
charity case, Mr. Cooper,” she said evenly.

“I never said
you were,” Travis responded carefully.  “I just feel badly about the whole
thing.  Brooke, if I’d run into you with my truck, wouldn’t you expect me to
cover your expenses?”

“I…well, yes.”

“There’s really
not much difference.  Okay?”  Brooke nodded once, briefly.  “Good, then that’s
settled.  I’ll go take care of things at the business office, then I’ll come
back and we’ll see about getting you out of here.”

“You don’t have
to do all this, Mr. Cooper.”

“You know, I
think we’re a little past Mr. Cooper, aren’t we?” Travis said, smiling wryly. 
“I mean, you sat in my lap and bled all over me.  I think you can call me
Travis, don’t you?”

“I don’t – don’t
really remember any of that.”

“Well, how ‘bout
this?  We’re neighbors.  Unless you’re planning on moving anytime soon, we
might as well get to know one another, right?  Be on friendly terms and all
that?”  He gave her a smile.  “So…Travis?”  Another brief nod from Brooke. 
Travis’ smile broadened into a grin.  “Can I call you Bunny?”  Brooke groaned
and Travis ducked out of the room.

                                                 
Chapter
4

Brooke watched
the door swing shut behind her neighbor, and released a breath she hadn’t
realized she was holding.  She couldn’t figure out what his angle was and it
bothered her.  In Brooke’s experience, nearly
everyone
had an angle, a
“what’s in it for me” attitude; and far too often in Brooke’s experience,
she
had been on the losing end of those types of situations.  Her own mother
thought nothing of calling Brooke and telling her she needed “a little help”
making ends meet, all the while knowing Brooke was working two jobs in an
effort to make her own ends meet.  So what did Travis Cooper expect to get in
return for his investment?

Brooke was
certain it had nothing to do with her, personally, as Travis Cooper was the
kind of man who could walk into a room and have just about any woman of his
choosing.  He didn’t need a woman who, at twenty-four, still didn’t have her
college degree and worked two jobs but still couldn’t make ends meet.  And
Brooke didn’t even want to think about the extra fifteen pounds or so she could
never seem to lose, or the fact that all of her clothes were either ugly work
uniforms or thrift-store purchases.

Brooke broke off
from her musings when a nurse entered her room.  The nurse smiled and held up a
pair of blue scrubs.

“I found
something for you to wear home,” she said.  “I’ll help you get dressed before
that hunky man of yours gets back.”

“Oh, he’s not –
I mean, he’s just my neighbor!” Brooke corrected quickly.

“Nice
neighborhood!” the nurse quipped, grinning.

By the time
Travis Cooper returned from the business office, Brooke was dressed in the
loose scrubs.  The nurse smiled at Travis.

“I’ll just go
get a wheelchair and she’s all yours!”

“Thank you,
ma’am,” Travis said, returning her smile.

A short time
later, Brooke was settled in the soft leather seat of Travis Cooper’s big Hummer. 
Travis climbed in behind the wheel and the diesel engine roared to life.  He
tossed a grin Brooke’s way.

“Ready?” he
asked.

“Um-hmm,” she
answered.

Brooke stared
out the windshield as Travis drove.  She was already thinking of phone calls
she needed to make; she needed to call both of her jobs to see if she still
had
a job at either place.  She needed to see if she could reach her professors;
maybe her economics professor would still let her take that test.  Brooke also
felt certain she needed to contact her utility companies; she knew she was late
paying her electric bill and they were quick to shut the power off.  And then
there was her mother.

“Penny for your
thoughts,” Travis said, glancing at her.

“Oh.”  Brooke
hesitated for a moment.  “Just thinking of things I need to take care of,
people I need to call, bosses, professors, that sort of thing.”

“Ah, um, about
that.”

Brooke’s head
swung toward Travis.  She didn’t like the way he hesitated.  She could only
imagine what he was going to say.

“Listen, I’ve
had your phone, in case someone – a friend or family member – tried to reach
you,” Travis explained.  “Your boss from the diner called.”

“And?” Brooke
prompted, holding her breath.

“He said when
you didn’t show up, he had to replace you.”  Travis glanced over at her again,
then continued quickly.  “But he also said, he’d hire you back, if…well, if he
has a spot open.”

“Any other phone
calls I should know about?”

“After that boss
called, I called your other job.  Hot Diggity’s, right?  I talked to the
manager; he said he’d try to hold your spot.  But I couldn’t get him to make me
any promises.”

“No, he
wouldn’t,” Brooke muttered.

“And, um, there
was an automated call about your account at the credit union,” Travis
continued.  He was aware that his neighbor seemed to slump, as if under some
huge weight.  “And the day of your accident, your, uh, mother called. 
Something about not receiving a check?”