Brooke inhaled shakily. A tear skipped down her cheek. “No matter what I do, I can’t beat you. If I don’t make it as a Durand manager, it’ll all be because of you.”
Alice gaped at her in disbelief. “Because of me. That’s ridiculous. First off, there’s no reason you shouldn’t make the cut. Everyone knows you’re a top runner. But if you didn’t make manager, it’d be because you’re more worried about yourself than you are your kids.”
Brooke’s expression broke. Several more tears fell down her cheek. “That’s not true,” she exclaimed shakily. “Do you really think that? I care about my team. A lot.”
Alice stared, seeing the other woman’s genuine dismay at the idea that someone thought she was selfish when it came to her team. She exhaled sharply, resisting a strong urge to roll her eyes. Suddenly feeling awkward, she turned back to pour her coffee. Jeez, she hadn’t even had a single sip of coffee yet, and she had to deal with not just a regular Brooke, but an anguished Brooke. God help her.
“I don’t really think it,” Alice mumbled grudgingly, ripping the paper on a sugar packet and pouring it into her steaming coffee. “I’ve watched you. You’re really good with them. They like you. My student team leader, Judith—you know, the one in the Bang pictures—thinks you’re brilliant, the perfect example of feminine leadership. Compassionate. Strong. Put together. Always unruffled,” Alice said, scowling. It was a truth she’d sworn she’d never confess to anyone, let alone to Brooke, of all people. But it was a fact. During the first week of camp, when Judith and Alice had been grinding against each other at every turn, Judith had made a few pointed remarks within Alice’s hearing about Brooke’s superior pedigree and education in comparison to Alice’s. Now that she knew Judith better, she didn’t think the girl had been doing it solely to annoy her because she knew Brooke was Alice’s nemesis, either. Judith really did respect Brooke.
When Brooke didn’t speak after Alice had ripped open her fourth sugar packet—she didn’t even take sugar in her coffee—she glanced sideways warily. Her eyes sprang wide in alarm.
Brooke was totally unmasked. She stood there, all traces of smugness and superiority vanished, her expression open, unguarded, and undone. Her tears had smeared mascara onto her cheeks. Alice hastened to pull some napkins from the dispenser. She handed them to Brooke.
“Here,” Alice said uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t have to say that about Judith,” Brooke sniffed, wiping her cheeks. “Everyone at camp knows how much Judith defied you at first. It was sort of . . . well, entertaining to watch, to be honest,” she added a little regretfully. “I thought she was going to kick your ass a few times.”
“Me, too,” Alice admitted.
Brooke swallowed thickly. “And you brought her around completely. She adores you now.”
“Oh God, no,” Alice insisted emphatically. “Judith worships no man or woman. She prefers to be on the adored end of things.”
Brooke smiled shakily. Another tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman knowing what she wants.”
“No. I guess there’s not.”
An awkward silence fell.
“Well . . .” Brooke inhaled and wiped her cheeks one final time. Alice could almost see her willfully knitting together her fraying ends. Not for the first time, she admired Brooke. Maybe they’d never be the best of friends, but Thad had been right about one thing: Brooke had her moments.
“I’m sorry for jumping all over you like that,” Brooke said briskly, tossing the napkins. She met Alice’s stare levelly. “I panicked for a few minutes when I saw the photos and heard the rumor about how much the managers admired the Red Team’s stunt.”
“I don’t think you have any reason to panic.”
“I still think there’s a good chance we’ll beat you tonight,” Brooke said, her chin tilting up.
“Maybe. I’ll be fine with that, as long as my kids feel okay about themselves. It might be time for them to deal with some disappointment, anyway. They’re getting a little cocky with all their wins,” Alice said, suppressing a smile and not succeeding.
“Imagine that,” Brooke said, her arch look reminding Alice of the Brooke of old. But then she gave Alice a small, genuine-seeming smile before she turned away.
Brooke was gone before Alice realized that neither of them had mentioned Thad. Alice was glad he hadn’t come up. Maybe both of them had realized intuitively that Thad was too weighty of a topic to withstand their unexpected, delicate truce.