by Jayne Rylon
“No! Brad! No!”
And when he plunged her into complete darkness, flipping off the living room light, deserting her in her own personal hell—probably to fuck his new girlfriend—her shouts turned to screams.
Brielle slumped with her shoulders leaning against the wall as she perched, wide-awake, in bed. Cold sweat saturated her cotton nightgown. The air mattress she slept on didn’t exactly have a headboard. Or a frame at all, for that matter. But the pile of pillows she’d collected from garage sales did the trick. She could make mounds out of them to help steady herself without feeling trapped.
All the lights blazed in her apartment after the nightmare that had wrenched her from slumber. The closet. That fucking closet—her sanctuary turned hell on earth. Had her father even had to steal that from her? And Brad… What a disaster. After seven years together, she’d thought she might be ready to open up about the root of her issues. Had hoped maybe exploring her fantasies would help them grow together instead of drifting apart.
How wrong she’d been.
She couldn’t afford any more bad decisions when it came to the men in her life. This time she might not survive.
Brielle stared at the business card propped against the lamp on the floor beside her bed. Blue and gold, it shone. The weakest part of her yearned to dial the number printed across the bottom.
Luke.
But the strongest fragment knew if she was truly to heal, the courage to change had to originate from within.
A quick flick of her fingers flipped the card over so she wouldn’t be tempted to use the crutch he’d so graciously given her. Especially not at two in the morning. Or three. Or four, because she’d probably still be awake then too. Instead, she hugged one of her pillows to her chest and rocked while repeating the chant he’d taught her. “I’m okay. I’m not trapped. I’m safe. No one can hurt me here. I’m okay.”
Maybe if she said it often enough, it might start to be real.
Tuesday afternoon, Brielle stared out the open segment of her cubicle. If she put her chair on its highest setting and strained, she could peek out the window across the aisle to the parking lot. Denying she craned her neck every time she heard the roar of a motor would be futile. But it didn’t seem like Dr. Malone had any intention of ending his boycott of State Street in this century.
Hell, maybe he had twice as many reasons to avoid the area now.
So busy spying, she didn’t register the logo on the delivery truck that had parked out front. Until her phone rang.
She jumped. No one called her. Email did the trick for the lazier employees in her office. Everyone else simply walked over or shouted for her to come to them.
“H-hello?”
“This is In Bloom. I have a delivery for a Ms. Brielle Kelly Norris.”
“That’s me.” She resisted the urge to pull the phone away from her ear and gawk at it. No one had ever sent her anything. It wasn’t even her birthday.
And only one man would use the middle name she’d practically stuttered when her nerves and his influence had overwhelmed her.
“The front door requires an access card for entry, ma’am. Would you mind meeting me there?” He grunted. “I can follow you in. This is a heavy one.”
“Um, that’s fine.” She barely remembered to say thank you before hanging up.
Flying past the stairs in the hallway, she thought back to her descent from Luke’s office. How could she miss a man she’d only known for a few hours?
Absorbed in her thoughts, she nearly collided with a woman who’d just turned the corner from the stairs, heading toward the Science Department instead of out into the sunshine.
“Oh crap!” They dodged and ended up grasping each other’s forearms to stabilize themselves.
“Brielle?” Fiery red hair, which the woman calling her name possessed, could only belong to one woman in the building.
“Becca.” What were the odds?
“Hey, sorry about that. I was actually coming to see if you wanted to go for a walk with me so we could discuss a few things away from prying ears. I’m not sure if you get breaks at all.” Becca paused, tilting her head. “Were you in a hurry?”
“Actually, yes. I was letting someone in.” She blushed.
From the shadows, where she hadn’t noticed him, Kurt raised his chin in their direction. “I’ve got it, ladies. You chat.”
Brielle sighed and relaxed a little.
“Does my husband make you nervous?” Becca smiled. “Please don’t let him. He’s all bark and no bite. A complete softy inside.”
“I find that hard to believe. He’s so…no-nonsense. Even the way he walks, without wasting any effort. Direct. Brusque. Efficient. Yeah, I guess you could say he intimidates me a tad.”
“Here, this should help.” Becca pointed in the direction he’d disappeared.
They faced the original Dr. Foster together. He held an enormous vase of flowers to the side of his chest, trying to peer around them. Becca was right. The mental image of Kurt completely buried in Gerbera daisies would go a long way toward taking the edge off his bearing.
The women chuckled together.
“Oh sure, keep laughing. Luke is going to love this story. He probably paid extra to set me up. Figures that asshole would send the biggest arrangement in the universe.” Kurt shook his head. “How am I going to top this?”
“They’re gorgeous, but I already have everything I want.” Becca avoided most of the flowers to peck her husband’s cheek.
“How do you know they’re from Luke?” Brielle stammered. Not that anyone else would be sending her an enormous bouquet.
“Besides the fact that he’s texted me about nine million times this morning asking if the delivery truck has been by yet?” Kurt rolled his eyes.
And the spell was broken. Brielle officially voided her initial hard-ass impression.
“Oh.” She couldn’t help the smile tipping up the corners of her mouth. At least Luke had been thinking about her maybe half as much as she’d obsessed over him.
“Yeah.” Becca scooted over so her husband could pass them in the narrow hall. “Why don’t you go put those on Brielle’s desk so we can hash a few details out?”
“You got it.” He sniffled, then turned his head as an enormous sneeze echoed through the stairwell. “Good luck with these, Brielle.”
“Thank you.” She hoped he understood the flower delivery service was the least of what she appreciated. Luke’s friends were treating her like one of their gang. Not some broken, battered woman. It made all the difference in the world.
“So…” Becca plopped onto the stairs, patting the spot beside her. “I hope you don’t mind. I love wearing high heels. Sometimes they aren’t ideal for a full day of standing and walking though.”
“I can see that.” The stiletto platforms were amazing and deadly. “I’d break my neck if I ever attempted those.”
“You get used to them.” She smiled kindly. “Plus Kurt appreciates them so it’s worth the sacrifice. It’s crazy the things you’ll do for the right person. Speaking of… Luke told me about your case.”
“Ah yeah. Hopeless, right?” The laugh she attempted sounded fake, even to herself.
“Not at all.” Becca put her hand on Brielle’s knee. “We can talk about that stuff later. How does Saturday around ten sound?”
“That’d be fine. Are you sure it’s not imposing? You don’t usually work weekends, do you?” Brielle measured Becca’s reaction.
“I don’t, no. But Kurt and I would do just about anything for Luke. He’s part of our family.” She winked. “And a friend of his is a friend of ours. He said he was pretty straightforward with you. How does that make you feel about me?”
“You really are a shrink, aren’t you?” Brielle winced.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Becca squirmed a little in her skirted suit. “I guess I’m asking if you’re sure you’re comfortable sharing intimate details of your life with me, knowing I’ve sl
ept with Luke.”
“Based on the way he described it, yes.” She nodded. “I appreciate you both being candid with me. I guess I have the same to ask of you, though. Are you going to be able to separate your past with Luke from any future he and I might have together? Will anything come in the way? I’ve got to tell you, I asked for help for a reason. I need it. And I don’t want to waste time or get derailed because of some bizarre tangle of unrelated nonsense.”
“Believe me, I’d be thrilled if Luke could find a hint of the happiness Kurt and I have. If you bring that to his life, I’ll be grateful.”
“Then it’s settled.” Brielle nodded.
“But aren’t you even the teensiest bit jealous? I mean, I have had insanely good sex with him and my husband. At the same time.” She might as well have buffed her bright red nails on her blouse along with the claim.
“Enough.” Brielle stuck her fingers in her ears. “I’m trying to be polite, but I have my limits. I don’t think your husband would appreciate a catfight at his practice. I will pull your hair and scratch your eyes out if I have to.”
“Thank God. I was afraid maybe you didn’t feel the same way about Luke as he does about you.”
“You’re testing me?” Brielle bristled.
“I told you, he’s more than just a buddy of my husband.”
“Don’t worry. I can’t think about much other than him. It’s infuriating.”
“Great. In that case, would you please call the man?” Becca lowered her face into her hands. “He’s going bananas waiting to hear from you. I’m not sure what kind of spell you put on him. Good job, though. He’s completely smitten. And afraid to chase you if you need room. Why haven’t you reached out?”
“Do you think he’s only interested because of some weird pity thing?” Brielle hated that she voiced her concerns. Still, if anyone would know, Becca would.
“Are you kidding?” The doctor looked more her age when she wrinkled her nose. “No way in hell. In our line of work, we see people every day that we empathize with. Never, and I mean never, has he sought more with a patient. You have no idea how irregular this is for him. Talk to him.”
“I will.” She nodded when the lump in her throat prevented her from admitting she’d been afraid to dream so big.
“Soon.” Becca stood as Kurt’s footsteps clicked toward them. “He wants to invite you to a function we have to attend tomorrow night. It’d be lovely to have you with us.”
“What? Another date?” Brielle wasn’t sure which of the revelations to process first. “What kind of event is it?”
“Becca was awarded top honors for most influential researcher of the year. Across all disciplines at the university.” Pride oozed from Kurt’s every pore when he mounted the stairs and hugged his wife from behind.
“Don’t listen to him. We’re both receiving the accolade. It was his invention that made it possible. I was just along for the ride. His subject.” A blush stained her cheeks.
“And don’t you forget it.” He laughed when she turned to smack his stomach, which didn’t flex a bit. What was it with these doctors and their commitment to being ultrafit? Damn.
“So you’ll come?” Becca seemed eager for her answer. “With Luke?”
“Let the woman talk to him directly, matchmaker. Break time is over, Dr. Foster.” Kurt tickled his wife. When she squealed, he scooped her into his arms and toted her easily up the rest of the stairs. He called down from above, “Fair warning, Brielle, I took a picture of your desk phone, with the extension showing, and texted it to Luke. You might as well call him before he caves. Save him a little face, would you?”
“I left his number at home.” She couldn’t risk temptation that strong.
“I jotted it on your blotter. So you’ll always have it.” He chuckled when Becca reached up to lay a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“You sentimental fool,” she murmured, barely loud enough for Brielle to catch it. “I love you.”
“Love you too, baby.” He stared at her with pure adoration until Brielle felt like the proverbial fly on the wall.
“See you tomorrow.” Becca called over Kurt’s shoulder when he rushed them to their office and ducked inside.
Brielle raced through the hall and to her desk. Flowers blossomed everywhere. Spring and the scent of happiness filled the air, covering the slight musk of her space. Two women popped in within seconds. “Those are gorgeous. Who sent them? Do you have a boyfriend?”
They hadn’t spoken to her beyond a polite hello in the seven and a half weeks she’d worked there, but the moment flowers showed up, every woman in the place turned to mush. How would she stand a chance of holding her own with Luke?
He was obviously an expert in a game she’d never played before.
It took five minutes to bring herself to snatch the card from between the jewel-toned petals. Inside were two brief lines.
I miss talking with you, and the sound of your voice.
Call me, please.
Doodling hearts around his phone number didn’t help Brielle convince herself she could muster any sort of poise. She’d practically reverted to high school. Except back then she hadn’t been able to experience the carefree crushes of a typical girl.
Sometime around the fourth attempt she made to muster some bravado, practicing what she intended to say, her phone rang. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.
On the third buzz, she answered. No sound would pass her lips.
“Brielle?” Luke’s voice mesmerized her. She hadn’t imagined the smooth, rich texture of his tone. “Hello?”
Oh, right. She actually had to talk instead of sitting there wrestling the butterflies in her stomach. He completely scrambled her brain. “Hi.”
“Three days and that’s all I get?” His smile was evident even through the phone lines.
“Thank you for the flowers. They’re stunning.” She laughed softly. “You’re making my coworkers jealous.”
“As they should be,” he teased. “You’re by far the prettiest, sweetest and most irresistible of them all.”
“How would you know?” A thought crossed her mind. “Have you gone out with someone in my department? Or stayed in with someone in my department?”
“You’re the only woman on the first floor of the Franklin Building who’s ever caught my eye.”
She snorted, clapping a hand over the receiver so he wouldn’t catch her indignity.
“Complex. For sure,” she muttered.
“I missed you too.” He didn’t sound like he was joking. “In fact, I was wondering if I could see you again.”
“For the award ceremony tomorrow?” She still couldn’t believe it.
“Ah, you ran into Becca then?”
“Yep. Just a few minutes ago. We bumped into each other, literally, in the hall.” She twirled her pen absently on the desk. “We also set up an appointment for Saturday at ten. I hope that works for you, if you’re still interested…”
“That’s great. I’m putting you in my calendar right now.” He paused. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I’d appreciate you holding my hand, yes.” Relief flooded her.
“Then it’s settled. So, how about tomorrow? Will you keep me company through all the dull stuff up until Kurt and Becca’s award presentation? Bland chicken, cheap wine, probably even some dry cake… Come on, you know it sounds fabulous.” She could picture his eyes sparkling.
“Honestly, it does. Spending time with people who care enough to endure that to cheer each other on... Well, that’s a big deal to me.” She sighed. “I’m just not sure I have anything to wear. It sounds fancy schmancy.”
Luke laughed. “If it wasn’t such an enormous milestone in their careers, I’d bail and lure you somewhere fun instead. Somewhere dress code doesn’t matter. Maybe to my house, where you don’t have to wear anything at all if you prefer.”
“Complex.” She shook her head.
Then she seriously considered it for a na
nosecond.
She’d never been somewhere proper. This event would surpass her experience, even if the dry chicken didn’t meet his high standards. What fork should she use? What would she wear? Surely, her sundresses wouldn’t be formal enough, especially not paired with the old lady sweater she used to camouflage the fact that she’d never owned a strapless bra either. Going without certainly didn’t seem classy enough for his date. “Luke, I really appreciate the invitation. If I could, I’d love to. It’s just not possible.”
“Okay, Brielle, I understand. I guess I’ll see you Saturday then.” Disappointment reverberated in his voice.
She could relate. Suddenly, she felt like Cinderella longing to attend the ball. Except she already knew that’s where her prince would be. In his world. A million miles from hers. And he deserved a princess on his arm.
“Right.” A week had never seemed so long.
“Will you call me before then?” He seemed uncertain for the first time.
Damn, she was screwing this all up. “I didn’t want to bother you with my drama.”
“Brielle.” The steel in his tone melted almost instantly with the hiss of air he exhaled. “I’m not your ex. Or your father. I’m interested in you. All of you. If you want to call and talk about nothing, that’s great. If you need to talk about something, I’d be honored if you picked me to listen.”
“You’re going to be sorry you said that at two in the morning.” She dropped her head to her forearm on her desk, cradling the phone between her neck and ear.
“Having trouble sleeping?” His concern caressed her through the phone.
“I can fall asleep. I just can’t stay that way.” She lowered her voice so no one would overhear her weakness. “Nightmares. But I’ve been using the technique you taught me to calm myself afterward. It works. Most times I can squeeze in a nap before my alarm goes off.”
“Damn, Brielle.” He muttered something she couldn’t understand. “You shouldn’t have to go through that alone. You have my number. Use it. Let me help.”
