Читать книгу Be My Forever Bride - Martha Kennerson - Страница 15

Chapter 3

Brooke opened the door and walked into the office to find Brice seated behind his desk, signing several documents. “Did you forget something, Amy?”

The sound of his voice sent waves of desire throughout her body, just like they had from the first moment they met. She’d missed it... She’d missed him. “It’s not Amy, Brice,” Brooke replied, closing the door behind her, knowing this conversation wasn’t for the public.

Brice dropped his pen, raised his head and sat back in his seat. “Brooke,” he said, his face expressionless.

“Do you have a moment for a quick chat?” She tried to project confidence when in reality she was a nervous wreck inside. Her heart was beating so fast she just knew the whole building could hear it.

Brice tilted his head slightly to the right and his forehead crinkled. “You tell me after six months of what I thought was a wonderful marriage that you want out. I convince you to give us time to work things out, at least I thought I had, and go out for your favorite seafood only to come back to find that you’ve left me with a note.” He leaned forward slightly. “You disappear for three months, only communicating through your lawyer, and now you want to chat.” His tone was hard but even.

“I... I—”

“Sure, please, have a seat.” His words were laced with disdain and sarcasm.

Brooke moved forward on unsteady legs, reaching for the support of a chair. She swallowed hard. “You make it sound so—”

“So what? Honest? Is that not what happened?”

“I didn’t want to fight. Not then and certainly not now,” she explained, trying to hold his angry glare.

“What do you want, Brooke?” Brice asked, sitting back in his chair.

“It’s simple. I’d like to get through these next several weeks as painlessly as possible. We’re both professionals with a job to do.”

Brice sat up in his chair. “That we are.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a manila envelope. “We can start by you signing the settlement papers so the lawyers can move forward with the divorce.”

He slid the envelope to Brooke. “I told you I don’t want your money. I just want to keep my name.”

“You mean my name, and I’m sure you do. It’s not like Brooke Smith would bring in the big clients.”

Brooke could nearly see the anger radiating from his body and he had every right to be furious with her, especially with the cowardly way she’d handled things but she felt she had no choice. Brooke thought her past, specifically the things she had done to put herself through school, and her present health issues would be too much to ask anyone to handle. Brooke knew how bad her request sounded, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason she wanted to remain a Kingsley—it was the only way she’d always have a connection to him and his family. They were the two things she never had before and didn’t think she ever would again.

“The only way you get to keep my name is if you take the settlement.”

“I don’t want or need your money. I can take care of myself,” she reiterated.

“I don’t give a damn if you want the money or not. It’s a few million dollars—give it to a charity if you like. I won’t ever be accused of not taking care of you,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Fine!” Brooke opened the envelope and pulled out the documents. “Got a pen I can borrow?”

“Sure.” Brice handed her the Montblanc she’d given him last year for his birthday. He handed her the pen and their eyes met, and for a brief moment, Brooke thought they’d softened until he broke contact and reached for his buzzing phone. Brooke signed in all the highlighted spots. She returned the documents to the envelope, handed it and his pen back to him. “Happy?”

“Hardly. Just one more thing. We’d appreciate it if any extracurricular activity you may have going on is kept under wraps.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows stood at attention.

“Just continue to be discreet and so will I.”

Brooke’s heart sank when she caught on to what he was talking about. Although, Brooke wasn’t entirely sure what he meant about her activities, she wanted to kick herself for being hurt by the idea of Brice moving on with his life. It’s what she wanted...what she thought was best. Brooke couldn’t get passed the lump in her throat to speak so she simply nodded.

“I’ll get the papers to the lawyers right away. In sixty days, you’ll be several million dollars richer and free of me. All just in time for our first anniversary.”

“Can you not do that?” Brooke looked down at her intertwined hands lying in her lap, hoping to hide the slight tremor.

“Do what?”

Brooke raised her head and met his leer. “Act like a petulant child.”

Brice raised his chin and narrowed his eyes but quickly relaxed his face. “Absolutely. We will keep things professional and limit our interactions.”

“Fine. Maybe we can get through this almost painlessly,” Brooke said, rising slowly from her chair. The last thing she wanted was for her legs to give out from under her. Brice stood, walked around his desk and came to stand in front of her. “We both know in our business...the world of finance...a world of precision, ‘almost’ doesn’t count.”

Brooke looked up into Brice’s eyes and they were no longer devoid of emotion; they had softened. She actually had a sliver of hope that maybe they could salvage some type of friendship from the mess she’d made. They had been close before anything else and she missed him.

“Excuse me, Brice,” a familiar voice interrupted. Brooke turned toward the door and saw Amy standing there, smiling at Brice with an excited look on her face as if she couldn’t wait to see him or something.

Before Brooke knew it, her old insecurities about Amy resurfaced. Their old arguments that Brice had dismissed as ridiculous and a growing friendship that the two shared annoyed Brooke to no end. Without warning all types of nonsense came flying out of her mouth. “Amy, you’re still here? Shouldn’t your internship be up by now? Don’t tell me you didn’t pass your class.” So much for not acting like a child. Brooke could feel Brice’s eyes on her, but she kept her own on Amy.

“No, I passed and graduated magna cum laude, in fact.” Amy frowned at Brice.

“Amy works for me now,” Brice explained with a confused look on his face.

“Does she now?” Brooke murmured.

“Do you need anything, Amy?” Brice asked.

“It can wait. I just needed to talk to you about the dinner—”

“We’re still on, right?” His eyes jumped between her and Brooke.

“Yes...of course,” she replied, her smile widening.

Brooke felt sick and needed to escape. “Don’t let me interrupt. I have to get to work, anyway.” She turned and walked out the door.

* * *

“What was that all about?” Amy asked, bug-eyed.

“Sorry about that. It’s just...” Brice ran his hand through his hair. He felt awful for using Amy in such a way and misleading Brooke. But the hurt and anger he tried to suppress surfaced at the thought of Brooke moving on with someone else, especially while he'd been pining after her, and made him want to strike back.

“I get it. You wanted a little payback for something she did. It’s not my business, but if you want to talk, I’m here,” she offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good. About what I said...” Brice rubbed the back of his neck.

Amy held up both hands. “No worries. You’re fine and all, but you’re not my type.”

Brice laughed and went to sit behind his desk. “I’m not?”

“Nope, but your cousin Travis on the other hand...” she informed him, smiling.

“Yeah, well, I hate to burst your bubble but you’re a bit young for him.”

“I’m only four years younger than you,” she reminded him.

“Yes, and six years younger than Travis. Trust me, you’re too young.”

Amy sat in one of the chairs that faced his desk. “I know. He already told me.”

Brice frowned. “He did? When?”

“When I asked him out,” she stated nonchalantly.

Brice chuckled and shook his head. “Fearless...”

“No disrespect, boss, but why was your ex being such a B toward me, anyway?”

“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...