“Oh my god! Another Bergen brother?”
Brennen bit back a smile, face-to-face with Abby’s cousin, Elle Reynolds.
“You’re a hard woman to get a hold of. If you’d returned any of my calls, you would have only had to deal with one Bergen brother today.”
Confession: Abby didn’t know anything about this little impromptu meeting with Elle. Bergen Enterprises had her contact information because she was in talks with the company to be part of a rebranding effort.
Talks that—from the yelling inside the conference room—sounded quite contentious.
He’d tried calling and emailing Elle all week. He’d even gone down to the eleventh floor and knocked on her door.
No dice, and despite his devotion toward Abby, all the unreturned calls and emails told him Elle was not on Team Brennen Bergen—yet.
Jas walked out of the conference room, his posture more rigid than usual. He started to say something to Elle then glanced his way and frowned. “What are you doing here, Bren?”
“I saw the meeting on your schedule and thought I’d stop by and say hello.”
Elle raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“How’d the meeting go?” he asked, trying to hide his surprise. His brother rarely shed his cool demeanor.
Jasper clenched his jaw. “Not very well. Miss Reynolds doesn’t seem to understand the concept of sticking to a budget, following a prescribed timeline, and committing to a schedule.”
Elle lifted her chin, and Brennen knew his brother was in trouble. Elle had the same expression Abby had used on him in the supply closet all those weeks ago. He stepped out of the line of fire.
Elle took a step toward Jasper. “And what Mr. Bergen doesn’t seem to understand is that you can’t force spontaneity. You can’t fit the joy of wanderlust and experiencing new things into a perfectly packaged thirty-second promo.”
Jasper lowered his voice. “I have a contract signed by you that says you’ll do just that.”
Her nostrils flared. “I have a contract that says I’m tasked with incorporating my vision of travel with the Bergen properties. It’s called creative freedom.”
“And you’re going to use that freedom to produce a thirty-second spot and write articles for several major travel publications to promote the Bergen brand.”
A sly smile pulled at the corners of Elle’s mouth. “Maybe the problem isn’t the Bergen brand. Maybe it’s you, Jasper Bergen! Maybe you’re what’s holding this company back?”
Only inches apart, Jasper leaned in. “And maybe you, Eleanor Reynolds, should stick to doing what you’re being paid for.”
Her jaw dropped.
Jasper moved in a fraction closer. “And being paid quite well, I might add.”
Cell phone in hand, Elle jabbed it into Jasper’s chest, and Brennen held back a grin. Abby did say they were more like sisters than cousins. After watching this exchange, he’d agree one hundred percent.
Elle lowered her voice, matching Jasper’s. “Let’s get something crystal clear, Mr. Bergen. Your people came to me. Your company needs my help.”
A heated blush bloomed just above the collar of Jasper’s crisply pressed dress shirt. “And as I said before, you’re being well compensated for your services.”
Elle stepped back and shook her head. “You don’t see it, do you? All Bergen Enterprises is to you is some cost analysis spreadsheet.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “My people will be in touch, Miss Reynolds.”
Elle crossed her arms and watched Jasper head down the hall back to his office. She released an audible breath then pinned him with her gaze. “What do you want? Because I’m not sure if you can tell, but I’m pretty damn close to hitting my Bergen brother limit for today.”
“I was hoping we could grab a cup of coffee.”
She stared down the hallway as Jasper’s door slammed shut. “I’m assuming this has something to do with Abby,” she said, gaze still trained toward the sound.
“It does.”
She turned to him, her hands on her hips. “Is that why you’ve been leaving me messages all week?”
“Yes.”
She released another frustrated breath. “Fine. But you’re buying, and we’re going someplace where I can order the biggest carb-filled chocolate concoction on the menu.”
He nodded. “That seems like a reasonable reaction after spending time with my older brother.”
He gestured toward the elevators and followed her inside. The doors closed, and she glanced at him. “Your grandparents are such lovely people. I’m not sure how they ended up with asshat grandsons like you two.”
“I’m sure they wonder the same thing. In fact, I’m positive they’ve been trying to puzzle that out for the last few decades.”
The elevator doors opened, and they entered the lobby.
He pointed out the windows. “How about we head over to the Bergen flagship store next door. There’s a coffee shop inside, and they have chocolate chip muffins the size of cantaloupes.”
“Sold,” she said over her shoulder as she passed through the revolving door.
He followed a step behind. It was a crisp March day, and Colorado was enjoying one of its three hundred days of sunshine. He inhaled, and the fresh air helped quell his nerves. If he wanted his plan to work, he needed Elle onboard.
The coffee shop inside the Bergen retail store buzzed with shoppers, but they were able to get their coffee, and Elle’s super-sized treat, and sit at a table by the window overlooking the Platte River.
Elle bit into her muffin and sighed. “Now I know what I’ll need to take with me next time I have to deal with your brother.”
He chuckled. “The Bergen brothers are easier to take when accompanied by food.”
Elle set the muffin down and narrowed her gaze. “I know you and Abby have been spending a lot of time together.”
“I care for her, Elle.”
She picked a chocolate chip off the muffin. “And I hear you’ve been following the man fast.”
“I have.”
She popped the chip into her mouth. “I believe you on that one. It’s been ages since I’ve seen the bimbo brigade loitering in The Dalton’s lobby, and you don’t seem to be riding the Denver gossip train anymore.”
“I’m done with that life.”
Elle watched him closely. “Abby says you guys read The Notebook together.”
“And we watched the movie.”
Elle raised an eyebrow.
“Twice,” he added.
Elle bit back a grin, and the hard edge she’d come in with receded. “I’m sure you know that today’s the last day of her man fast.”
He nodded.
Elle stared out the window. “She doesn’t know why she made it seventy-four days. She thinks it’s just some number she pulled out of thin air.”
He stilled. “What do you mean?”
She kept her gaze trained on the river. “Years ago, after her mom died and her dad started flaking out big-time, she’d called me. She’d taken on everything by then—paying the bills, keeping up the house. She did all this while going to high school.”
Brennen nodded, a tightness pulling in his chest.
“She never complained. A typical teenager would have rebelled or gotten angry—but not Abby. I wanted her to come live with my parents in Maine. I was already out of the house and in college by then, but I knew they would take her in.” Elle shook her head and met his gaze. “Abby wouldn’t hear of it. She wouldn’t leave her dad.”
He frowned. “She’s told me about her parents and what it was like with her father. But I still don’t understand what that has to do with the number seventy-four.”
Elle took a sip of coffee, and her throat constricted as if she wasn’t just swallowing the liquid, but the memory as well. “Like I said, Abby called me and was really scared. Her dad had been out of work for a couple of months, and she’d just checked their bank account balance. The credit cards were maxed out, and they
only had seventy-four dollars left.”
Now it was his turn to stare out at the water. “Jesus.”
“And she still had to pay the rent and the utilities.”
“What happened?” he asked.
Elle looked away and blinked. “I told her I could talk to my parents. I could get her some money to help them get by, but she made me swear not to say anything. She didn’t want them thinking badly of her dad. So, she pawned the only thing of value they had left.”
He leaned forward. “What was it?”
Elle gazed back at the water. “Her mother’s wedding ring.”
He stared into his coffee, wishing there was a way to turn back time. Wishing there was a way to have saved Abby’s mother. Wishing there was a way to knock some sense into her father. A wish as futile as the wishes he’d made about sparing his parents’ lives.
Elle swiped at her cheek. “I hope you can see why I’m so protective of her. You can understand why I don’t want her mixed up with someone else who’s going to let her down—especially after the idiot she dated for all those years.”
His throat grew tight with emotion. “I’m not going to let her down, Elle. I love her. I love her with everything I am.”
He hadn’t said those words out loud. He’d thought them, felt them. Now he had to hope Elle believed them.
“Have you told her?”
“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first, and I wanted to talk to her father, too. I tried to get in contact with him.”
“How’d that go?” Elle asked, a prickly bend to her words.
“I couldn’t get ahold of him. I called the fishing company Abby thought he was with in Alaska. He doesn’t work there anymore. They gave me the cell phone number they had for him, but it wasn’t working either.”
Elle popped a bite of muffin into her mouth. “Once Abby left for college, he really started drifting. He calls her a couple of times a year. That’s all the contact she’s had with him for ages.”
Brennen nodded. “Then I’m talking to the right person.”
She frowned. “The right person for what?”
“I want to do something big for Abby at the Whitmore Gala tonight. You’re going to be there, right?”
Elle nodded. “My publisher donated a whole slew of my books and travel guides to be auctioned off. Abby told me you offered to donate a gift for her class, but she turned you down because of her man fast rules.”
“Yeah, but I had an idea, and what makes it even better is that there’s going to be media covering the event.”
The color rose on her cheeks. “Media? You want publicity? For what, your company? Your image?”
He shook his head. “No, no! Nothing like that! I want the public to know that I love your cousin. I want there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that there’s not another person for me besides Abigail Quinn. I want the world to know Brennen Bergen—the spoiled playboy—is a thing of the past.”
“That’s a lot of talk,” she said, watching him closely.
“Elle, I swear on the memory of my parents, I will never be another man who takes Abby for granted. I will never be reckless with her heart. I love her, and I want to give her the life she deserves.”
Everything hung in this moment. Abby loved her cousin, and up until this point, Elle was all she had. He needed Elle to know his feelings for Abby were the real thing.
Did he need Elle Reynolds’ approval?
No.
But he loved Abby, and Abby loved Elle. And that made Elle’s opinion important to him. The old Brennen Bergen wouldn’t have thought twice. He would have taken what he wanted and moved on.
Not anymore.
“I know you love Abby. It would mean everything to me if I had your support.”
He wanted a life with Abby, and for that, he needed the blessing of the person who loved her as much as he did.
Elle reached for her backpack. “There’s one thing we need to do before I give you my answer.”
She pulled a pen and notepad out of her bag and slid the items across the table.
He stared at them. “Do you want me to write an essay about how much I love your cousin?”
She shook her head. “No, I need you to write these two sentences.”
He picked up the pen. “Um, okay.”
“First sentence: I like your dog.”
He frowned. “I don’t have a dog.”
She waved him off. “It doesn’t matter. Just write it.”
He wrote the sentence.
“Second sentence: You’re a dog.”
“Elle, I’m not. I’ve totally changed my ways.”
She released an exasperated breath and tapped the paper. “I get that. Again, just write.”
He wrote the sentence.
“Okay, pass me the paper.”
He had no clue what was going on. Was this some kind of quiz thing? Was she analyzing his handwriting?
She stared at the paper then sighed. “All right, you passed. You love Abby, and your grammar isn’t a train wreck. Whatever your plan is, I’m in.”
He glanced at his watch. They didn’t have much time. The gala was set to begin in a few hours. “We need to get going then. Do you get airsick easily?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I’m a travel writer. I’ve been in everything from jetliners to prop planes to hang gliders.”
He grinned. “How are you with helicopters?”
17
Abby
“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic?”
Abby nodded to Cadence and took a sip of wine—then another. She glanced around the ballroom where men in tuxes and women in expensive gowns lingered around the tables that showcased the Whitmore Gala Auction items as the gentle melody of Paganini’s Centone di Sonate floated through the cavernous room.
Cadence gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Abby nodded. Besides her cousin, Cadence was the only person who knew of her man fast friendship with Brennen. Thankfully, to the rest of Whitmore, he was only her community partnership volunteer.
They’d agreed to play it casually. It was the last day of her man fast, but pretending Brennen was just her friend felt wrong. He was so much more. Of course, she wanted him. What woman wouldn’t? But it went deeper. It wasn’t just his good looks and a body that could make angels weep. It was his mind. His sense of humor. His hand on the small of her back. His smile. And the way his gaze would soften when he looked her way.
Whatever it takes, I will always wait for you, Abby Rose.
She could hear his voice. Feel his breath, warm on the shell of her ear.
Over the last seventy-four days, she’d learned who she was. Between her father and Tyler, there was no room to discover that. She’d been a caregiver. A problem solver. A paycheck. A doormat. For years, her desires, hopes, and dreams had taken a backseat to the needs and whims of the men in her life. Teaching had been her only escape…until now.
Until Brennen.
With Brennen, it wasn’t all about him—not even close. He supported her choices. Followed her lead. He gave her the space to grow while at the same time standing by her side. He put her first. This man who had picked her up and carried her down a mountain, had kept her safe, had opened his heart. He’d shared his darkest parts with her, threw away the playboy façade, and found his calling helping others through his family’s foundation.
She knew in her heart how he felt, but something was off tonight.
She checked the ballroom’s grand entrance. “My cousin’s not here either.”
Cadence waved to a waiter serving hors d’oeuvres and plucked one off the tray.
“You need to eat.”
Abby glanced at the fussy bite of food. “What is it?”
Cadence shrugged, and the waiter frowned.
“It’s a caviar and crème fraîche tarte.”
“Ah! Just like Grandma used to make,” Cadence said, laying it on a little thick.
The waiter f
urrowed his brow and moved on as the women broke out into giggles.
“Like Grandma used to make?” Abby laughed.
“You know, brownies, apple pies.” She leaned in with a twinkle in her eye. “And of course, caviar and crème fraiche tarts.”
Abby shook her head.
“Now you have to eat it! You don’t want to disappoint Grandma.”
Abby gazed at the very lovely, slightly foreign, looking finger food. “All right.” She popped the bite into her mouth, swallowed hard, then took a giant gulp of wine.
Cadence chuckled and handed her a napkin. “There! All it took was a few fish eggs and some fancy cream whatever, and, Stella, you’ve got your groove back!”
Abby dabbed the corners of her mouth. “You’re right. I need to stop worrying. It’s just not like either one of them to be late.”
Cadence plucked another hors d’oeuvre from a tray and popped it into her mouth. “They each texted you, right?”
Abby glanced down at her clutch. The clasp had to be close to breaking. She’d opened and closed it at least twenty times, checking her phone for new messages.
“Yes, Brennen said he had something come up with the foundation, and my cousin said she was helping a friend.”
“There you go! Now relax. We’re part of the city’s upper crust tonight.”
Abby took a deep breath but froze when she saw Harriet and Raymond Bergen enter the ballroom accompanied by Brennen’s brother, Jasper. “Oh gosh! Brennen’s family just arrived.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Cadence asked.
Abby watched as the news crews covering the event clamored around them, illuminating them in bright lights and thrusting microphones their way.
“No, they’re wonderful people. I just figured Brennen was late because he was with them doing something for the foundation. But if they’re all here, where’s Brennen?”
Cadence’s usually easy-going demeanor morphed into a look of concern, but before she could answer, a voice rang out over the speakers.
“Excuse me. Excuse me, everyone.”
Man Fast: Bergen Brothers: Book One Page 20
