Miss Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “He provoked me, Brooke,” Luke said as she helped him into the waiting limo.

  Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I doubt the media will care.” She slammed the door shut and turned to face Mitch. “How bad is it going to be?”

  Mitch sighed. “Hopefully Nathan doesn’t change his mind about pressing charges. The press heard him decline so I doubt he’ll flip. I’ve already got people on damage control. All we can do is wait and see.”

  Brooke leaned against the car. “When is he going to come back?” she asked. “I miss Luke.”

  Mitch awkwardly patted Brooke on the shoulder. “He’ll bounce back soon.”

  “If I don’t kill him first. My fiancé is going to lose it when he finds out about this.” Brooke took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m going home.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Brooke tossed and turned all night before finally giving up and going for a run. The trees in the park reached toward the sky like skeletons, and the cool air hurt her lungs. She ran a few laps around the paved trail, enjoying the stillness of the park. The sky was beginning to light, and she heard a few birds chirping nearby.

  Her phone buzzed in her armband, knocking her out of her thoughts. Who would call this early?

  Brooke slowed to a jog and slid a finger across the screen of her cell. I’m sorry. It was a text from Luke.

  Brooke angrily shoved her phone back in her armband and picked up her pace. He should be sorry. His behavior last night had been out of line.

  And now she’d get to explain the whole debacle to Antonio.

  Brooke ducked her head and increased her pace even more, her feet pounding against the asphalt. She and Antonio were a perfect match, or practically perfect at least. When Brooke had approached Charlotte two years ago about signing as a client with Toujour, she’d expected Charlotte to insist a matchmaker couldn’t also be matched. But Charlotte had been excited to help Brooke find true love, and agreed to let her join. It took only two okay dates before she was matched with Antonio. His Italian family was ultra-traditional, and his parents had met on their wedding day through a matchmaker. They wanted their son to find happiness the same way. Brooke and Antonio had a seventy-one percent compatibility rating, which was excellent.

  It only took three dates for them to decide to be exclusive. They’d been together ever since.

  Her phone buzzed again. Brooke ignored it and kept running. The sky was now a dusty pink, and the trail was starting to fill with other runners. One more lap, then she’d get ready to pick up Antonio.

  She was unlocking her apartment door when she received another text. Brooke sighed and pulled her phone out. Both texts were from Luke.

  I’ll explain what happened to Antonio if it’ll help.

  Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry.

  Brooke closed her phone without replying. She’d decide how to respond after gauging how upset Antonio was.

  Brooke took her time getting ready. She curled her hair into loose beach waves, the way Antonio preferred, and put on a little more makeup than usual. Then she paired her favorite jeans with stylish boots and left for the airport.

  Traffic was a nightmare, but she still arrived at the airport early. She parked in the short-term lot and headed inside. Maybe the story hasn’t hit the newsstands yet. And maybe Antonio hadn’t been online.

  Curse Luke Ryder. She’d looked forward to Antonio’s return since he left ten days ago, and now because of Luke she dreaded it.

  Three car rental counters advertised various savings, but thankfully didn’t have any newspapers with Luke’s face on display. Maybe not enough time had passed for the story to be in print. Brooke found baggage claim and four more newsstands, but none of them had a front page photo of Luke either.

  Brooke closed her eyes and wished she could rewind last night. What could she have done differently? Maybe she should’ve told Mrs. Darius to bring her grandson to the bar. Maybe she should’ve made Luke go with her. Maybe she should’ve refused to leave his side. Maybe she should create a rule to avoid ever being in this situation again.

  Maybe Luke should grow up and stop acting like a child.

  Last year at the company party, Luke had joked and charmed everyone in the room. Brooke’s only concern had been making sure things didn’t get too awkward between him and Antonio. Now Brooke felt more like a babysitter than best friend.

  A small gift shop stood in one corner of the baggage claim area. Brooke looked at her watch. She still had at least thirty minutes to kill. She wandered into the shop. Santa Baby played on the overhead, and Christmas ornaments were prominently displayed on the front counter.

  “Hi,” the store clerk said. “How can I help you?”

  “Do you sell newspapers or magazines?” Brooke asked.

  The woman popped her gum. “Sure do. They’re on the back wall.”

  “Thanks.” Brooke headed to the back of the store. None of the newspapers or magazines showed a picture of Luke on the cover. She let out a sigh of relief.

  “Next up, Luke Ryder in a jealous rage.”

  Brooke’s head jerked up. She zeroed in on the television in the corner, showing E! News. A picture flashed of Nathan Kendall, blood spurting out of his nose.

  “Last night, Luke Ryder punched Nathan Kendall in the face,” the reporter said. He motioned to the picture behind him.

  “You’ve gotta feel bad for the guy,” the female reporter said. “His dad just died, and now he’s CEO of a billion-dollar corporation that isn’t doing so hot. And the competition is moving in on his old girlfriend.”

  “He’s already having an affair with an engaged woman,” the male reporter said. “Does he need to add another one to his list?”

  “Kendall didn’t press charges, so he’s coming out of this looking like a hero,” the female reporter said. “Looks like Luke won’t get either woman to break up with her significant other anytime soon.”

  Brooke looked away in disgust. They hadn’t even mentioned the purpose of the gala, or the announcement of the lung cancer foundation. The two positives had been overshadowed by the one negative.

  “Delta Flight 435 from Atlanta, Georgia has now landed,” the airport announcer said over the intercom system. Antonio’s connecting flight.

  Brooke checked the time on her cell phone. The flight was nearly thirty minutes early. Her stomach clenched. She turned away from the television and wandered over to wait by the security exit. Soon she and Antonio would be reunited after ten long days apart. The tabloids—and Luke—better not ruin this.

  She had missed Antonio so much. Had longed for him to come home. All she wanted was to finish planning their wedding, say “I do,” move into an apartment together, and start their married lives. I’m so mad at you, Luke. He always seemed to be the wedge in her relationship with Antonio. She’d created the rules in high school to avoid this exact situation. She wanted Luke and Antonio to be friends, not enemies.

  Brooke heard a tap and glanced to her side. An elderly woman with a cane stood beside her. The woman caught Brooke’s gaze, and Brooke gave a tentative smile.

  “Waiting for someone important?” the woman asked.

  “My fiancé. He’s been visiting family in Italy for almost two weeks.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh my. That’s a long time to be apart.”

  Brooke had wanted to go to Italy with Antonio, and had even talked to Charlotte about taking time off. It wasn’t like Toujour was busy at the moment. But when she’d mentioned it to Antonio, he’d said it made more sense for her to stay home and save up her vacation time for their honeymoon. “I’ve missed him very much.”

  The woman smiled kindly. “You must be excited to see him.”

  Brooke faked a smile. I was. Thanks again, Luke. She would find every bottle of Scotch in his penthouse and pour it down the kitchen sink. If she ever decided to speak to him again.

  “I am excited,” Brooke said. As long as the drive home didn’t revolve arou
nd Luke.

  “When’s the wedding?” the woman asked.

  “September fifth.” This time Brooke smiled for real.

  “Young people have such long engagements these days.” The woman leaned forward conspiratorially. “My husband and I were engaged on Thanksgiving and married on New Year’s Day. We thought it was very romantic. A new beginning and all that.”

  “That’s so sweet. Is that who you’re waiting for—your husband?”

  “No, my dear Harold passed on three years ago, may he rest in peace.” The woman quickly crossed herself. “We were never apart for more than a day in all our fifty-one years together.”

  Tears pricked Brooke’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know I’ll see him again. Today I’m waiting for my grandchildren.” The woman’s voice brimmed with joy. “My daughter and her family are moving home after fifteen years away. The last three years have been lonely, and I’m glad to have family close again. Oh, here come some people now.” Weary travelers wandered into baggage claim. “I wish you and your fiancé a lifetime of happiness, dear.”

  “Thank you. And I’m glad your family is moving home.”

  The woman nodded, her attention focused on the crowd. Brooke scanned the passengers for Antonio.

  “Grandma!” A girl with bouncing brown curls broke away from the crowd and ran into the woman’s arms. A few moments later, she was swarmed by two more children and two adults. They laughed and hugged each other.

  Brooke smiled. She was glad she’d talked to her. She and Antonio could be like that woman and her husband with a little work. Brooke and Antonio had their fair share of problems, but they loved each other, and she was committed to their relationship.

  Even if it means giving up Luke? a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. She shook it aside. Antonio wasn’t a fan of Luke’s, true. But he knew how much their friendship meant to her, and would never ask her to give that up completely.

  She searched the crowd, looking for Antonio’s shaggy locks and flirtatious smile. He was only five foot ten, and easily hidden in a crowd by all the taller men. Businessmen in black suits with stern expressions entered baggage claim. A mother alone with three young children. A group of what looked like high school students with a few tired looking chaperones.

  And then she saw him. He had his trademark five o’clock shadow, a dark gray winter scarf nearly obscuring it. His curls were even more unruly than usual, and he reached up with one of his strong hands to brush them out of his eyes. She could just make out flecks of paint on the back of his hand.

  Her heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Antonio!” She raised on tiptoes and waved.

  He looked up and saw her. His mouth turned up, and he hitched his carry-on bag higher on his shoulder and jogged over to her, a portfolio case in his other hand. “Mia dolcezza,” he exclaimed, dropping the portfolio case and bag and catching her in his arms. His lips quickly found hers, and she let her hands weave into his hair as he kissed her breathless. Several long moments later, he pulled back, their foreheads still touching. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  Brooke kissed him again. “I’m glad you’re home. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He released her, reaching down to pick up his bag and portfolio. “Let me grab my bag from the carousel.”

  “Here, let me.” Brooke took his portfolio and carry-on, and waited while he picked up his bag.

  “Let’s go home,” Antonio said. “I’m exhausted.”

  Brooke made a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat. “Long flight, or long trip?”

  “Both.”

  Brooke breathed easier now. He hadn’t brought up the gala. All I have to do is keep him away from any form of media for the next week or so, and we’ll be golden. She mentally kicked herself. Yeah, right.

  “How did the last few art deals go?” Brooke asked as they loaded his luggage into the back of her little VW Bug.

  “I ended up selling all but three pieces at the show last night, and was commissioned for twelve more. And I signed an exclusive contract with a gallery for my landscapes.”

  “Antonio, that’s fantastic.”

  “I know. And the money is fantastic. Enough that I could buy you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. He opened it and handed it to Brooke.

  She gasped. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” A white gold chain held a gemstone-encrusted pendant—a painter’s palette and brush. He took the necklace from the box, and she lifted her hair so he could clasp it around her neck.

  “Now we’ll never be parted again,” he whispered into her ear, then leaned down to kiss her neck.

  She shivered, and turned around to kiss him on the lips. “Thank you. I love it.”

  “I knew you would. Now let’s go home.”

  Brooke nodded, getting in the passenger side of her car. Antonio always drove when they were together. “Tell me more about your trip. How’s your family?”

  Antonio started the car and pulled out of the parking space. “Doing well. They miss me, and are anxious to meet you in September.” He paid the attendant at the booth, then pulled out of the parking garage. “What I really want to talk about, mia dolcezza, is how, just days after our conversation, you managed to end up plastered across the Internet.”

  Brooke’s mouth fell open. Shoot. And she thought she was doing so well. “How did you find out?”

  “Twitter. ‘Nathan Kendall is Thankful for Health Insurance After Luke Ryder Punches Him at a Charity Gala.’ Nice headline. I especially loved the photos of you in the article.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brooke said. Maybe if she downplayed the situation, he wouldn’t get too mad. “Everything was going so well, and then …” She sighed.

  “I’m not interested in what went wrong. What I’m interested in is why you were in the middle of it. Again. I understand supporting your best friend, but this is getting ridiculous.”

  “I wasn’t in the middle of it. I was trying to keep Luke from getting arrested. He punched Nathan while I was off talking to some guy who didn’t want to hire me as a matchmaker.”

  Antonio glanced over. “I’m not even going to ask about that. What I am going to ask is why my fiancée can’t respect even the simplest of my wishes.”

  Brooke clenched her teeth together. He was right. She knew her relationship with Luke was unusual, and Antonio was more understanding than most men would be. He had asked one thing of her—one simple request—and she had failed. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help out a friend. Rule #9 and all that. You know Luke’s going through a hard time.”

  “And it seems like our relationship is always what suffers.” Antonio shook his head, causing curls to wave around his face. “It’s like Luke is your fiancé, and I’m your best friend.”

  “You know that’s not true.” Brooke’s voice shook. “It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I plan on spending the rest of my life with.”

  “Yes. With Luke always in the wings.”

  “He’s only affecting our relationship because you make such a big deal over our friendship. Luke kept me sane during my parents’ divorce. He’s been there for me every time I needed him the past eight years. I’m trying to return the favor.”

  “I need you now, Brooklyn. I need you to put me before him.” His words were sharp, angry.

  Brooke drew back, stunned. “I do.”

  “Then why do you keep doing exactly what I ask you not to?”

  Brooke put a weary hand to her forehead. He hadn’t even been home an hour, and already they were fighting. It was the same conversation they’d had a thousand times before, and she was sick of it. Luke never attacked her about her relationship with Antonio. Sure, he wasn’t a fan of the engagement. But he didn’t make demands of her like this.

  Just put Antonio first, a voice in her head insisted. Then this will all go away.

  I do put Antonio first. But Luke needs me right now. I’m all he
has.

  He has his mother.

  That’s not the same.

  “I’m sorry.” Brooke put a hand on Antonio’s arm. “I’ll do better. Please, let’s not fight anymore. You just got home and I’ve missed you.”

  Antonio kissed the top of her head,. “I’ve missed you too. I love you, Brooke. I don’t want something as trivial as a friend to come between us.”

  But he’s not trivial. He’s my best friend. Brooke squeezed Antonio’s arm and didn’t say a word.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Brooke didn’t sleep well. She rarely did at Antonio’s, with his hard-as-a-rock mattress and the ceiling that made her feel claustrophobic. Antonio’s apartment was a studio, with the bedroom as a loft. When sleeping, the ceiling was only four feet above her head. She spent a lot of the night staring at Antonio, wishing there was an easy solution to Luke constantly driving a wedge between them. Eventually she gave up on sleep and got ready for the day before climbing back up the ladder to the loft. Antonio still lay sprawled across the bed in his boxers, the sheets only half covering him. She lifted his arm and slipped underneath it, cuddling against him.

  Antonio stirred. “Mia dolcezza,” he said, smiling sleepily.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Brooke said. “You’re right, I need to set better boundaries with Luke. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

  “Me either.” Antonio caressed her lips with his own, and Brooke wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

  “Let’s go to the beach,” Brooke said. “We can eat brunch at that café we like and do some shopping. Maybe catch a movie.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Antonio said. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  Brooke made the bed and tidied Antonio’s apartment while he got ready to leave. Her phone buzzed. Luke. She rejected the call.

  Antonio walked out of the tiny bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. “I’ll be ready to leave as soon as I get dressed,” he said.