by J. P. Hansen
©2012 J. P. Hansen. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Products and business establishments mentioned in the story are owned by their respective copyright and trademark holders.
ISBN: 978-0-9840934-4-1 (Kindle)
Published in the United States of America
Design and production: Concierge Marketing Inc.
Prologue
Charlotte, North Carolina
If it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved before, why did she feel so empty? Brooke Hart savored the Sweet Violet one last time, then stood and smoothed her hair. Now the tough part.
While rubbing the clinging soil off her fingers, she trudged toward Tanner’s grave. He had left an indelible mark—one that she just couldn’t wipe away. But, today she would try. A swirling breeze pulled emerald leaves from the majestic oak tree’s grip. June 21st had crept up once again.
Brooke paused, hoping to stifle the humidity and her tightened chest. She plunked down and removed her bag’s contents. Her eyes fluttered as tears merged with droplets of perspiration, falling onto his picture. Brooke stared at the photo of the strongest man she ever met, “Why did you quit?”
Holding the letter in trembling hands, she sensed his presence.
My Dearest Brooke…
Her stomach churned.
Brooke slid the ring up the rose’s stem and carefully positioned it on his stone. She closed her eyes and pictured the magical day on the beach when he dropped to one knee and changed her life forever. Brooke drew a deep breath. A sudden breeze soothed her overheated skin.
She ran her hand across the paper as if it was Tanner’s chest. Her ring finger found the tiny watermark she imagined was from his last tear. She inhaled slowly to capture his fragrance on the paper. And as always, she raised her closed eyes to the heavens; but this time, she didn’t see his face. She lifted his picture from her lap and proclaimed for the first time, “I forgive you…and I forgive me.”
Chapter 1
Durham, North Carolina
What am I doing here? Brooke had been asking herself that question for the past six weeks. The thirty-three year old vice president seemed to have it all; yet, to her it felt like her career ladder and life had crashed. Hoping to move on, relocating to the new company had officially backfired. All the blind dates set up by her well-meaning inner circle—her father, Melissa, Shane, and Todd—had fizzled before hors d’oeuvres. Online dating turned into: mis-matched.com. Damn Tanner.
Feeling claustrophobic in this stuffy room, the corporate strangers eyed her like a piñata and they were clenching bats. The stiff dress code mirrored the culture and both felt about as comfy as tweed pajamas.
Suddenly, the boardroom hushed. All eyes pointed to the entryway like canines at obedience training graduation. Except for Brooke, whose back faced the door. She craned her neck; a whisk of air drew her to the opposite direction, followed by a masculine scent of sandalwood and cedar. Seductive.
Mr. Smellgood looked striking from the side. His physique matched his fragrance. He set his fancy briefcase on the head of the table—mahogany on mahogany. As if revealing a game show prize, he slid off his navy suit coat. Brooke’s eyes widened as he draped it over the high back leather chair. He had a rugged build you’d expect to see on a mountain climber or surfer, but not an executive for a drug company. Brooke’s instant attraction surprised her.
Without uttering a word, he headed to the refreshment area. Brooke figured he was either the president or CEO; she hadn’t met either one yet. Quite a departure from the GenSense days that had faded like a winter sunset. As he stopped to pour a coffee, his backside didn’t look too bad either. She straightened her posture, preparing for his return trip.
“Chase can’t start a meeting without his coffee.” The voice startled Brooke. She hoped the power tie next to her wasn’t psychic.
Brooke uttered a half-hearted “Ah” and nodded like a bobble head. She grimaced as she surveyed the unfamiliar faces. All of her previous coworkers she called friends had parachuted out after the acquisition. Now, she felt deserted. Times like these made her question herself, something she rarely did, even after abandoning her early dreams of becoming a child psychologist for the more stable career in business.
She figured Mr. Caffeinated Smellgood had to be CEO Chase Allman, but he looked too young, and much more attractive than the wooden puppet behind the podium of the “merger” announcement. Brooke recalled his bio: 41, yet he appeared her age—quite young to be running a multi-national company. Impressive. The only knock on him—Duke undergrad, then JD/MBA. To a North Carolina girl, usually a triple dukie meant three strikes against you, but this guy didn’t have the look or attitude she’d despised. And too sexy for clothes.
On his return walk, he even exuded poise while balancing a full cup of coffee on a saucer. His monogrammed lavender shirt looked as if it was painted on all the way down to the cuff links. An expensive tie dangled at the belt line of his navy pinstriped slacks. But the clincher for Brooke: the shoes. She loved well-shined shoes—especially Gucci. This guy’s look screamed success. He belonged on a cover of an expensive men’s catalogue. A heat flash kindled as she pondered him without his shirt.
“Damn,” she caught the glistening band on his finger. Brooke’s shoulders slumped, figures.
Brooke loathed formal meetings or maybe the concept of a boardroom—it didn’t matter. This place felt pompous and sterile with its flamboyant furnishings and subdued culture. Though the buyout brought her riches, she felt like rags. Listening to the incessant chit chat, her stomach churned again.
Chase perched at the head of the table and all chatter ended. He had an alluring charisma, highlighted by piercing brown eyes with gold flecks. Flashing a smile that could melt a diamond, he said, “Good morning.” Brooke was mesmerized by his combination radio announcer voice and TV host good looks. Everyone else muttered, “Good morning,” but Brooke just gazed with puppy love eyes. The last person to create such a stir inside her was Tanner.
“Let’s get started. We have a full agenda today. Thank you all for being here, especially the new members of our team. For those of you who haven’t met me, I’m Chase Allman.” This drew laughter from everyone but Brooke—making her feel even more alien. “Why don’t we begin by having each new person briefly introduce him or herself.” He stared at Brooke. She flinched, looking like she was just tasered.
Big gulp. “I’m Brooke Hart…let’s see…I’m originally from Charlotte, graduated from UNC, then lived in Charlotte for a while, but moved back to Chapel Hill for the past few years…I’m happy to be here with y’all.” She released a flutter of blinks—did I just say y’all?
Brooke fidgeted in her chair as twenty-two frowns descended on her. Pharmical Solutions was located just outside downtown Durham, North Carolina, one of the vertices of “Research Triangle” which also included Chapel Hill, and Raleigh. So named in 1959 with the creation of Research Triangle Park, it was the southeast’s Silicon Valley. To residents of Durham and Raleigh, Chapel Hill was considered the weak link in the triangle. Sensing there weren’t many Tar Heels in the room—Duke country now—she felt as welcome as a Red Sox jersey in
Yankee Stadium.
David Greenberg, general counsel, vice president of Human Resources—and Brooke’s new boss—though she rarely saw him, chimed in, “Brooke comes to us from GenSense and is vice president of our new Integrated Client Services department.” Brooke thought, yeah sounds impressive, but in reality, I’m an overpaid telemarketing babysitter—reporting to this android. Integrated Client Services even sounded robotic.
Chase said, “Welcome to Pharmical Solutions, Brooke. I look forward to seeing great things out of ICS. Glad to have you.”
“Thank you sir, nice to be here.” She felt relieved that she avoided another y’all and stifled the blinking. She stared as Chase mouthed the next introduction. She loved the way his lips moved. Stop it, don’t go there, no, not any further, she told herself—he’s married and I work for him, he’s forbidden fruit.
Staring out the expansive windows and suppressing yawns as the new employees spoke, Brooke kept peeking at the man at the head of the table. As the final newbie, a vice president of something-or-other, rambled on about his background, Brooke noticed Chase staring at her. His swift glance away confirmed it.
I shouldn’t have worn this dress. It felt tight, too low cut…I’m leaving the wrong impression.
Brooke adjusted her posture, and returned her gaze back to the wall of windows. Cumulus clouds battled the Carolina blue-sky backdrop. She recalled the GenSense days and how different it now seemed. The most impressive room at the start-up had been her cubicle. With no view. They didn’t need fancy clothes or offices, let alone bored-rooms with refreshment stations. She felt akin to her old company like her sorority. She missed it.
Brooke remembered the feeling of elation when GenSense issued the IPO. Overnight, she was worth one point two million. On paper. At least for a few weeks—until the stock market tumbled, cutting her stock value nearly in half. Still not bad. And since the estate settlement, money had never been a concern. It seemed like once she quit worrying about cash, it poured in. She still would trade it all for what she once had.
Brooke realized the toll work extracted from her personal life. She had worn so many hats—sales, marketing, finance, operations, and even decorator. Now, she was in charge of only one function and, for the first time in her life, boredom had set in.
Brooke sensed she needed change. For some strange reason, she got a second chance at life. But the recent changes only caused anxiety. She thought, I have to be patient and give this place time. There has to be something more for me in life.
A wave of unease churned inside—Brooke desired another man and didn’t even think about Tanner.
***
The next few days passed like a rollercoaster. Brooke needed to decompress. The drive back home always did the trick. Brooke loved her Lexus HS Hybrid. She remembered the day she bought it. Brooke had applied her decision analysis course by first, doing the research, then test driving all the luxury hybrids—BMW, Audi, Acura, and Mercedes. She made the mistake of consulting Weston Ingram, a brilliant trial lawyer and good father to her—most of the time—but on this one, he treated Brooke like she was twelve years old. His main objection that hybrids were an overpriced fad was a misnomer. She realized his true rationale stemmed from Pearl Harbor. If it were up to him, she would drive a Buick.
Lexus won hands down. In rare defiance, she ignored her father’s calls, and with no regrets. Beyond having the best fuel economy and the quietest ride, it had a killer sound system. Once she closed the door, it was like her own cocoon. Today, she felt fidgety—even in the comfortable leather seat that engulfed her like a security blanket. Brooke thought, this isn’t the company for me. I should have heeded everyone’s warnings. Aside from Chase, nobody impresses me. And, my interest in Chase isn’t professional.
Instead of losing herself in her music, she pressed speed dial one on her cell.
“Hello Brooke,” he said in his usual peppy voice. Surprised to catch her life coach live instead of voicemail, she drew a blank.
“You talked me into this high rise hellhole, now talk me down off the roof.”
Shane sighed, “Uh oh. I know you well enough to know you’ve had a setback.”
Why does he always say setback? It’s irritating.
“Setback? I’m walking with the living dead here.”
“Well, that sounds like it qualifies as a setback. What’s wrong now? You’ve only been there a month.” Setback again. Argh.
“Six weeks.”
“Semantics.”
“Well, it feels like six years.”
Shane Gallagher, Ph.D., had been Brooke’s life coach for the past three years. Though she had only met with him in person once—at his Boston office—most sessions were on the fly from her cell phone. Brooke marveled at how well he understood her. The majority of his advice had focused on personal growth and rarely on career—until he urged her to join Pharmical Solutions. Since then she had lost her playfulness he so loved. Shane clicked into therapist mode.
“What happened?”
“In a nutshell, this place sucks.” Brooke rubbed the back of her neck.
“How so?”
“It’s more sterile than a hospital and with more stiffs than a morgue.”
Shane chuckled, louder than usual. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor…”
“Seriously, my boss is up for Anal Manager of the Year and it seems like everyone else is battling for runner-up. Aside from their CEO, there’s nobody I can even talk to.”
“Well, you met the CEO…that’s good.”
“I wouldn’t say met. I propped my eyes open during a meeting he ran. Or tried to run. It was scheduled for four hours but lasted the entire day.” She suppressed her true perceptions.
“You just miss GenSense.” Shane had an uncanny directness in an east coast way. A little too quick at times, but precise, decisive.
“You can say that again. I miss everything from GenSense’s wear-whatever-you-please dress code to the I-make-a-difference attitude.”
“It’s natural. You miss the challenge. At GenSense, you guys created something you were passionate about. Plus, you were running practically everything there. Now, you’re in the ocean instead of a pond.”
“More like drying up on the scorched sand. I’d like to leapfrog back to the pond before I rot away.”
“How much of this anxiety is Tanner-related?”
There he goes again. Uncanny. “I don’t know…”
“I’ve been thinking about you the last few days. Did you make your visit on the 21st?”
“You know I did. I’m both a creature of habit and a glutton for punishment.”
“Well,” he inhaled a deep and audible gasp, “talk to me.”
“This time you’ll be proud of me.” Brooke paused, but Shane remained quiet. She continued, “I finally followed your advice.”
“What do you mean?”
“For the first time, I was able to forgive Tanner—and myself.”
“Congratulations. That’s the greatest accomplishment you could have achieved. And, you certainly have an impressive resume.” Comforting warmth enveloped Brooke. She had a familial respect for him: Shane was like a father to her—she craved his approval, but he treated her with compassion and empathy.
“You’ve been on me to move on, but you know me, it has to be on my own terms. I realize it’s taken me too long, but I finally feel like I’m on the right path…on that, at least.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s perfectly natural to grieve—actually, it’s healthy. What’s unhealthy is prolonged grieving. Only you can determine when you’re ready to move on. And, only you determine your happiness.”
“Well, I’m nowhere near happy at work.”
“Again, ease up on yourself. The perfectionist inside is gonna strangle you. My advice is to meditate, find that place of peacefulness—your inner hammock—and put things in perspective.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“When’s the l
ast time you meditated?”
Uh oh, here he goes again.
“You got me…um, it’s been awhile,” she said.
“Meditate right after we hang up. Find your center. You’ve only been at Pharmical a matter of days. Practice patience—and focus on what you like instead of what irritates you.”
Brooke blushed as the dreamy CEO popped into her head. And seeing him shirtless. Time stood still for a few moments and her agonizing memories of Tanner disappeared. She said, “I will,” with a flurry of blinks.
“How’s the blinking?” Sheesh, this guy’s good—does he have me on a camera?
“Fine,” she rubbed her nose.
“Good. Give it time. In six months, you’re gonna be happy you did. I’m proud of you.”
As Brooke hung up, she wondered what Shane would be like as her father. She loved her own daddy but Shane’s fatherly advice always resonated inside. At times, the lawyer in Weston Ingram, Esq. smothered her. Once again, Brooke sensed Shane was correct. But she wondered if she could last six days, let alone six months. Why do life coaches always piece life into six-month quadrants? Do they manage their own lives in half-year increments? I wonder if he drives his wife nuts?
Discussing Tanner usually stung inside. But not today.
Chapter 2
Chase drifted into a dreamy state, recalling the moment he noticed Brooke. His heart raced again as he visualized her luscious lips and mesmerizing big blue eyes, framed by long flowing blonde hair. And her body…her body could stop a freight train. A real-life doll—and with a brain. She had an alluring, yet carefree air about her. He wanted her to stand up and turn around as he introduced her.
After the meeting ended, he pretended to have to speak to one of his managers so he could catch her figure as she sauntered out the door.
He prided himself on his level-headedness—the proverbial voice of reason at the company he ran. Today, however, his equilibrium felt like a full moon fever on steroids. Throughout the meeting, he had a difficult time concentrating, unable to keep his eyes off her. He kept thinking, why couldn’t I find someone like Brooke? My life would be so different.
