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“She’s always thought you had a crush on me,” he explained.
“Hardly...”
Brice checked his buzzing phone. “What did you want to tell me about Kristen’s dinner?”
“She needed to cancel. Something came up.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.”
“How about I take you to dinner? That way, what you told your wife won’t be a lie. Besides, you really do need to loosen up a bit. I know this great place downtown, so I’m not taking no for an answer,” she insisted.
“I thought I was the boss.”
Amy stood. “In this building you are, but at six, I’m in charge.” She left the office laughing.
Brice was thankful for the distraction Amy brought. He enjoyed her youthful energy and the enthusiasm she had for their work. Brice could never understand why Brooke had felt threatened by Amy, who was more like a sister to him than anything. He knew making Brooke think he was seeing Amy socially was petty, but given the way Brooke had reacted toward Amy, Brice saw an opening to seek a little revenge for everything she’d put him through, especially since he chose not to confront her and the man she was with in Paris. Walking away was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Only now, he felt horrible. Brice didn’t want to see Brooke hurt, because no matter how hard he tried not to, he still cared about his wife.
* * *
Brooke entered the office that had been hers for over a year and found that it hadn’t changed. The mahogany desk, which was a twin to the one in Brice’s office, was still in the same spot where she’d left it on the left side of the room in front of her wall of bookshelves. Brooke hadn’t wanted her desk placed in front of her windows, blocking her view of downtown Houston. Instead, she’d placed a small sofa and two chairs in the middle of the office—creating a small living room—so the views could be enjoyed by everyone visiting her. A ten-seater conference table had been placed across from the desk and living area and was adorned with six laptops, two printers and several boxes of documents that needed to be reviewed and audited.
“They didn’t change a thing,” Brooke announced, walking into the room.
“Nope, they didn’t,” Lori agreed, giving her friend the once-over. “Are you okay?”
“Yes... No, but I will be.” Brooke took a seat at the table.
“We’ve organized things by quarter,” Damon explained from his seat at the opposite end of the table.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to talk about whatever just happened between you and Brice?” Lori’s jaw clenched and she crossed her arms at her chest.
“Not really,” she said, breaking eye contact with her friend.
“If you change your mind—”
“He’s actually dating Amy. Can you believe that?”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, but hey—” she shrugged “—if he wants to date a teenager, who am I to care? We’re nearly divorced.”
“What?” Lori’s mouth flew open but quickly closed.
“Oh, yeah, I signed the papers, including the settlement.”
“Good for you. Now you’ll have plenty of money for whatever you might need and you get to keep the name too, I assume. What a good business move.”
“I do and Brice agrees, but, you know that’s not why I’m keeping his name,” Brooke said defensively.
“I know.” Lori’s mouth twisted sideways.
Brooke could see the concern on her friend’s face “Seriously, it’s fine... I’m fine.”
“If you say so. By the way, Peter is picking you up after work.”
“What?”
Dr. Peter Schultz, a renowned neurologist from a family of physicians, was Brooke’s doctor and foster brother. “You can’t keep putting the man off, especially after he flew all the way to Paris to see you,” Lori explained, taking a seat at the table across from Brooke.
“I can’t deal with Peter right now. I need to focus on getting through this project.” Brooke reached for several files.
“Peter wanted to meet you for lunch. He was prepared to send a car for you. I told him you already had lunch plans, which you do. I know how you like to work through lunch on the first day of a new project. I ordered Chinese for us and pizza for Damon.”
“Good. Meat lovers, I hope?” Damon asked Lori.
“What else would I order for a carnivore like you?”
“Lori—”
“Peter needs to examine you.”
Brooke presented her hands. “See, Mother, no tremors. I’m not tired and no muscle spasms.”
“Good, now be sure to tell all that to Peter when he picks you up tonight. It's bad enough that only a handful of us know that you have multiple sclerosis and all you have to endure.”
“You even said the only reason you told your foster brother is because he happens to be a neurologist and you needed a doctor you ‘kind of’ trusted,” Damon added, using air quotes to emphasize his point. “Didn’t you swear him to secrecy too? Making sure he didn’t tell the rest of his family.”
“Yes, she did.” Lori nodded slowly. “I don’t get it either. You were diagnosed nearly four months ago with a positive prognosis.”
Yeah but for how long? With my luck, everything could change in a blink of an eye. “Guys, we’ve talked about this already. Growing up in the foster care system, you learn four major lessons.” Brooke used the fingers of her right hand to count them off. “One, keep your material possessions close at all times. Two, keep all bed and bathroom doors locked when you’re in the room. Three, expect the worst and consider yourself lucky if nothing bad happens. Four, the only person you can depend on is you. It took years for me to feel safe enough to open up even a little bit to people. Working day to day with you two made that easy.”
“And we love and appreciate you for it too. We’re here for you and always will be.” Lori looked over at Damon, who offered his agreement in the form of a wide smile. “But you need to expand your circle of trust, my friend...at least by one.”
Brooke knew exactly who she was referring to. She dropped her hands and released an audible sigh. “Remind me again why I keep you around.”
“I’d like to know that myself,” Damon interjected, clearly trying to bring more levity to the room.
Lori turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “Because I’m a brilliant assistant and a better friend.”
“At least she didn’t claim it was her legal expertise.” Damon returned his eyes to the papers he was holding.
“That too,” she countered, blinking her eyes dramatically.
“That’s enough, children. Let’s get to work,” Brooke ordered.
The trio spent the next several hours going through the first month of all the Kingsley financial transactions and IRS filings. The hours seemed to fly by and before Brooke knew it, the sun had set. She raised her arms out and stretched. “Wow, it’s after seven,” she announced.
“Oh, no, I have to go.” Lori started packing up her things. “John’s going to kill me. We’re supposed to meet with the wedding planner at seven-thirty.”
“You better go, you too, Damon. Call it a night.”
“You sure? I can stay until Dr. Schultz gets here,” Damon offered.
Brooke gave a nonchalant wave. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. I’m going to finish going through these bank statements and I’ll call Peter.”
“Are you sure?” Lori asked, standing by the door.
“I’m sure. Good work today, you two. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Brooke stood and watched as they both walked out the door. She kicked off her shoes and flexed her feet. Brooke pulled her phone out of her purse and placed the call she’d been avoiding since she’d landed back in Texas.
“Good evening, Brooke. Is everything all right?” the sweet baritone voice asked.
“Yes, Doctor, everything is fine. I understand you’re my ride back to the hotel tonight,” Brooke replied sarcastically as she stood in front of the window, enjoying the sparkling lights of the city.
“I am. Are you ready?” Peter asked, laughing; Broke knew he was responding to the annoyance in her voice.
“Not yet. I have about another hour’s worth of work left. Can you be here at eight-thirty?”
“Absolutely.”
“Call me when you arrive,” she advised before hanging up.
Brooke returned to her seat, where she picked up a bank statement and the highlighter and got back to her audit. She got through the last set faster than she’d expected. Brooke stood and started stacking all the files and papers when she heard the door open. She swirled around so fast she made herself dizzy. “Whoa...” She gripped the table to stay up right.
Brice was standing in the doorway and smirking. “You okay?”
“Yes. What are you doing here?” Brooke checked her watch. “It’s nearly eight—is it past Amy’s curfew?” Dammit...
Chapter 4 (#ue6cc7da0-edd9-51fe-8c4e-a47008de4e4c)
The corners of Brice’s mouth turned up. He always loved her quick wit and the way Brooke’s cheeks turned pink whenever she said something she wished she hadn’t. Brooke had removed her jacket, her arms exposed, and she stood in her bare feet. Brice’s eyes took their fill. Her naturally slim build was unusually thin, but he still thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Funny. No, her choice of restaurant was not really my taste.”
Brooke shrugged. “That’s what you get for dating a toddler.”
Brice leaned into the door frame. “Amy’s no toddler.”
Brooke turned her back to him, saying, “I bet.”
“Excuse me.”
Brooke slid her feet back into her shoes, walked around the table and started gathering up her things. “It’s none of my business, and who am I to question who you choose to spend your personal time with?”
“No, it’s not. You lost that right the night you left.”
Brooke raised her head and met his stormy gaze. “You’re right, my apologies.”
Brice pushed off the door frame and walked into the office. “No problem—”
“I just don’t see what you two could possibly have in common.”
“You’d be surprised.” Brice didn’t want to continue this line of questioning. His exaggeration was making him uncomfortable. It was time to change the subject. “So how was your first day back? I trust you have everything you need.”
“I do.” Their eyes collided at the familiar phrase they’d recited not so long ago. “I mean, everyone’s been very helpful.”
“So we should meet our established three-month timeframe?” he questioned, trying to keep his business persona intact when his traitorous body was responding to Brooke on a more personal level.
“Barring any surprises, yes, we should,” she reassured him confidently.
“Good. Have you eaten yet? There’s no reason we can’t be civil.”
“Actually—” Brooke’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.”
Brice saw a face he’d hoped he would never have to see again pop up on Brooke’s phone.
“You here?” Brooke answered.
“Yes,” Peter replied. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to leave without me.”
Brooke laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll be right down.” She ended the call and returned the phone to her purse.
“Sounds like you have other plans.” Brice pressed his lips together, preventing himself from asking questions he didn’t really want the answers to.
Brooke nodded. “But thanks for the offer... Rain check?”
“Sure.” Brice placed both hands in his pocket as he tried to keep a straight face, attempting to hide the disappointment that he wanted to kick himself for even feeling. “I’ll walk you out.”
“That’s really not necessary, but thank you.” Brooke reached for her jacket, only Brice beat her to it. He held it out and Brooke slipped both arms through each sleeve. Brice’s hands briefly rested on the small of her back as his senses were attacked by the scent of jasmine wafting from Brooke’s hair. Brooke looked over her shoulder, gazed up at him and whispered, “Thank you, Brice,” before stepping away.
Brice knew she was thanking him for more than helping with her coat. They’d rarely had disagreements, but when they did it usually ended quickly. Her kind heart just wouldn’t let things fester, which was another reason why he’d found her actions so unbelievable. Citing that their marriage was an impulse, she’d requested it be annulled, a request he flatly refused. Brooke's desire to keep his name was the only leverage he had to slow things down so he could try and find out what was really going on between them.
“You’re welcome.”
They walked out of the office and made their way to the elevator where they descended in silence. They exited the elevator and walked through the nearly empty lobby. Brice eyed the tall olive-skinned man leaning against a black town car with his arms crossed.
“Your ride?” Brice asked, setting his mouth in a tight line.
“Yes.”
Brice stopped short of the exit. “Have a good evening.”
“You too,” Brooke replied as she walked out the door.
The last thing Brice wanted was to stand there and watch as his rival greeted Brooke with an extended hand and helped her into his car. But Brice’s feet were glued to that spot. He knew he should walk away but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to get his feet to work.
* * *
