His laugh was deep and rich and sent her spine tingling. “Please let me come over and watch it with you. I had a run-in with Candi and I’m in a sucky mood.”
“Okay, that needs details.”
“Not many to give. She’s playing her usual mind games. At first I thought Kendall was behind it, but now I’m pretty sure it’s just her.”
“Do you think she was hoping the press would get a photo?”
“No. That’d be hard to explain to her boyfriend. Now can I come over or what?”
That little tramp. “Only if you bring donuts and hot chocolate.”
“Have you eaten anything real for dinner?”
“Donuts are a real dinner.” She shifted, and her knee landed on the corner of the invitation box. She looked down at the save the dates, suddenly remembering what she was doing. “Oh.”
“You already have plans.”
“Well, Antonio and I were supposed to address save the dates.”
Silence. “Maybe another night. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Antonio couldn’t come. He just bailed.” She bit her lip, debating what to do next. She could put the invitations away and do them another night. But she really should send them out in the next week or two. “You could help me.”
“I am your man of honor.”
Brooke laughed, relieved he wasn’t going to be weird about this. “True.”
“I’m coming right over. Be there in ten.”
Eight minutes later, a knock came at her door. Brooke grinned, pushing herself to her feet and going to answer it. Luke wore an old pair of jeans that were worn in all the right places and a T-shirt she recognized from college. “That was quick,” Brooke said. “Where are my donuts and hot chocolate?”
“I sent the driver to get them. He’ll be back soon.” Luke came inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Sometimes being rich has its benefits,” Brooke teased.
Luke smirked. “I guess you could say that. Where’s Zoey?”
“Another date with a guy who’s totally wrong for her. I think she and Mitch like each other, but neither seems willing to do anything about it.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “High-strung Mitch and chaotic Zoey?”
“I bet if I put them in the database, they’d be a match.”
Luke took off his jacket and laid it on the back of the couch. “I don’t see it. So it’s just you and me tonight then, eh?”
“And an all-night marathon of Model at the Top.”
“I should’ve brought the score cards.” Luke sat down on the floor, motioning to the piles of invitation materials. “So what am I doing?”
“You’re stuffing the envelopes while I address them. I’ll show you.”
“There’s a wrong way to put things in an envelope?”
“There is when it’s for a wedding.” Brooke grabbed a save the date and showed him which direction to put it in the envelope. “Then you put this envelope into this envelope—”
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re sending your save the dates in two envelopes?”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. That’s how it’s done.”
“Why?”
“So that when the outer envelope gets dirty in the mail, the inner one still looks nice.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Why would I joke about this?”
Luke sighed. “Good thing Model at the Top is on. This is going to be a long night.”
“You’re not the one addressing five hundred invitations.”
The driver delivered the donuts and hot chocolate, and they enjoyed their treat before getting to work. Luke stuffed envelopes and offered unsolicited commentary on the show while Brooke wrote addresses on envelopes. She couldn’t help the glow in her heart as she listened to Luke talk. This was the most he had sounded like the old Luke in months.
“So what’s the deal with Antonio being AWOL anyway?” Luke asked during a commercial break. He held up a save the date. “Seems like the kind of thing the groom should help with.”
Brooke sighed, setting down her calligraphy pen and stretching out her fingers. “His muse hit, so he’s home painting.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”
“Painting is his job. He’s really stressed about this new contract with the gallery in Italy. He wants the first landscape he sends them to be absolutely perfect.”
“You’d think he’d want his wedding to be perfect.”
“I didn’t think men generally cared about that sort of thing.”
“Perfect wedding equals happy bride. Happy bride equals happy groom.”
“You speak wisdom.” Brooke bowed her head dramatically and Luke snorted, stuffing another envelope. She should get back to addressing, but her fingers were seriously cramping and the thought of holding that calligraphy pen had them screaming in protest.
“Are you happy, Brooke?” Luke asked.
She stopped stretching her fingers. “Why would you ask that?”
He dropped the filled envelope, scrubbing a hand over his face. “My feelings about Antonio aren’t exactly a secret.”
Brooke pushed the filled invitations aside and scooted closer to Luke. “Just give him a chance. You both are so important to me.” She swallowed hard. “Can’t you at least try to get along?”
“He’s such a douche.”
“Lu-uke.” She drew the word out into two syllables.
He picked up one of the save the dates, holding it out to her. “This is really what you see when you picture your future?”
Brooke took the save the date, really studying it for Luke’s sake. He would know if she brushed off the question. The photo was black and white and had been taken in downtown LA. Brooke and Antonio both stood in front of a graffiti covered wall, holding hands with solemn expressions on their faces. The filter the photographer used made the whole thing look grainy, and it was hard to make out facial features in the photo. They could be any couple. The only pop of color was their names and the date and location of the wedding. The save the date was much more artistic than what Brooke would’ve chosen, but Antonio had a photographer friend who’d given them a great discount on the photos and design so she hadn’t said anything.
Brooke put the photo back. “Antonio loves me. He’s always there for me.”
Luke drew back, a mask covering his face. “You mean like he was here for you tonight?”
“That’s not fair.”
“I’m here for you, Brooke.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she jumped to her feet. “Don’t.”
He stood, grabbing her arm. “I love you.”
She shrugged his hand off. “Stop it.”
“I know I haven’t exactly been a model citizen in the past. But I’m changing. I’m trying to deserve you. You don’t have to question me.”
“You’re breaking like every single rule I’ve ever created.” She ran her fingers through her hair. Her hands felt clammy and cold.
“There isn’t a rule that forbids me from declaring my love. And if there was, I’d break it anyway.”
“You can’t do this, Luke. I’m getting married. To Antonio.”
Luke stepped close again. She could smell his laundry detergent and cologne, and it made her dizzy. “Give us a chance.”
“We’ll never work.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’ve never had a serious relationship.” Brooke paced back and forth, waving her hands as she spoke.
“An eight year friendship is pretty serious.”
“Because if we tried, and things didn’t work out, our friendship would be ruined. And I can’t live with that.”
He took a step toward her. “It would work out. And you don’t think marrying Antonio will change our friendship?”
“Sometimes you’re too much like my dad. Flitting from woman to woman, not really caring if their feelings get hurt.”
“That
’s not fair. I might not have serious relationships, but I haven’t abandoned three separate wives and four children either.”
“You and I aren’t compatible in that way. Not like me and Antonio.”
Luke snorted. “I dare you to run our compatibility in Toujour’s database. I bet we’d blow your and Antonio’s seventy-one percent out of the water.”
Brooke held up her hands as though to ward him off, still pacing. “It doesn’t matter. I’m marrying Antonio. I love him. That alone is reason enough why we wouldn’t work.”
Luke shook his head. “No good. You love me too.” He stepped in her path, forcing her to stop pacing. He took her face in his hands and gently caressed it. “What are you afraid of?”
Brooke closed her eyes and her breath hitched. She wrenched herself from him. “I’m not afraid of anything. I just know we wouldn’t last. Where is all this coming from?” Her hands shook. “You haven’t mentioned dating since high school.”
“Only because every time I got up the courage, you started dating someone else. You turned me down pretty hard in eleventh grade and made it abundantly clear multiple times we were just friends. But that’s not enough for me anymore.”
Brooke’s breath quickened. For eight years he’d felt this way. And he’d waited until now to say something?
“He’s all wrong for you, Brooklyn, and you know it. But us …” He leaned down, his lips hovering above hers.
Her hand struck his cheek before she even knew what she was doing. He drew back, stunned. His hand went to his cheek. Brooke’s chest heaved as tears obscured her vision.
“I scared you. Too much too soon.” He nodded. “I can understand that.”
“We’re going to forget this ever happened. Tomorrow things will go back to normal. The wedding has me on edge, and you’re struggling with your father’s death. We’re friends. Best friends. And you will always be my best friend. But Antonio’s the man I’m going to marry.”
“No. It doesn’t get to be that easy for you. I’m telling you right here, right now, that I’m throwing my hat in the ring. Because this” —he motioned between them— “is worth fighting for. You might not be willing to risk it. I was too scared to take a chance for a really long time. But now, the only thing I’m scared of is losing the possibility of us. So get ready for the fight of your life, Brooke. I’ll see you later.” He strode out the door without another word.
Brooke stared after him in shock, then mechanically closed the door. A hand caught and held it. She looked up into Zoey’s concerned eyes. “How long have you been standing there?” Brooke asked.
“Long enough. What are you going to do?”
Brooke shook her head and began to cry.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Luke walked away from Brooke’s apartment door and down the hallway, toward the elevator. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to stop them from trembling.
There was no going back now. He’d laid it all on the line. He’d either made the best decision of his life, or the worst.
I have to win her. Antonio isn’t right for Brooke.
But how was he supposed to “win” Brooke? If eight years hadn’t been enough to convince her they were meant to be together, then what could he do?
Luke pushed the chipped button for down on the elevator. He walked on shaky legs to the limousine and climbed in.
The partition lowered. “Where to, Mr. Ryder?” the driver asked, watching Luke through the rearview mirror.
“Mitch’s,” Luke said. Even his words sounded shaky. “No, my place. Call Mitch and tell him to meet me there. It’s urgent.”
“Of course, Mr. Ryder.” The partition slid back up, and the limo purred to life.
Luke’s cheek still stung from the force of Brooke’s slap. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He had no idea what to expect going forward. Breaking rules in the past had resulted in anything from snippy remarks to the silent treatment, and he’d gone way over the line this time.
I told her I’ll fight, and I will. But hot chocolate and donuts weren’t exactly an amazing start.
“Stop it.” He couldn’t get the image of Brooke screaming at him, shaking off his hand as though that would shake off his declaration of love.
She loved him. He knew she did.
Didn’t she?
Luke scooted across the bench seat to the mini cabinet in one corner of the limo. He fumbled for the bottle of Scotch and unstopped the top, sloshing it into a tumbler. He swallowed it in one drink and quickly poured another.
“We’re going to forget this happened. Tomorrow things will go back to normal.”
Luke slammed a fist against the window. She can’t do this to me. His feelings mattered, too.
During the fifteen minute drive, Luke’s fingers itched for a basketball or weight bar, desperate for the relief exercise brought. He jumped out of the limo as soon as it came to a stop and hurried into the building, ignoring the camera flash from someone hiding in the bushes. The elevator doors immediately opened. Luke stepped inside and the elevator attendant entered the penthouse key code.
“Welcome home, Luke,” Talia said in greeting. “Mitch is in the living room.” Luke barely registered that she hadn’t glitched on Mitch’s name, a positive sign that the overhaul was working. They’d been testing the updates in his penthouse, as well as at Ryder Communications.
“Thanks,” Luke muttered. Mitch’s apartment was only five minutes away, so he wasn’t surprised.
Mitch met him in the foyer. “What happened?” he asked, grabbing Luke’s arm. “The driver said you were with Brooke, then came out looking rattled.”
Luke shrugged off the hand and headed into the kitchen, grabbing a tumbler and filling it with Scotch.
“How many have you had?” Mitch asked, following him.
“This will be my third,” Luke said. He threw back the Scotch and reached to refill the glass.
Mitch’s hand landed on top of his. “Okay, calm down. I think you’ve had enough to drink. Do some yoga breaths.”
Luke didn’t know what a yoga breath was, but he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. If Brooke saw you now, she’d be more convinced than ever you aren’t the one.
Mitch took the bottle and put it back. “Let’s go sit down. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Luke followed Mitch into the living room and sank into the arm chair. “I told her.”
“Told her what?”
Luke closed his eyes, but all he saw was Brooke’s horrified expression. “That I love her.”
“What did she say?”
“She slapped me. She told me we were going to forget it ever happened and go back to normal.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “How can things ever be normal again? I told her I love her. Love her.”
Mitch cursed, but his eyes were full of sympathy. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “You sure know how to take a bad situation and make it worse. In less than a month, we have to relaunch Talia. If we can’t do it successfully, Nathan will steal all our clients and we will be well on our way to working ourselves out of a job. That is what we should focus on. Not Brooke.”
“Do you know why I went over there tonight? To help her stuff envelopes with save the dates. For her wedding to Antonio. It’s really happening, unless I do something to stop it.”
“And we’re really going to be out of a job, if we don’t do something about that.”
Luke swore. “This is Brooke we’re talking about.”
“I know Antonio’s kind of annoying, but I think she really does love him. I’m sorry.”
Luke grabbed a candy dish off the coffee table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, M&M’s and shards of glass dropping to the carpeted floor. “She loves me. We’re meant to be together.” He picked up a vase of fresh flowers—pink Gerber daisies, Brooke’s favorite—and threw it at the wall too.
Mitch grabbed Luke’s arm. “You need to calm down. Breathe.”
Luke sucked in a huge, gulping br
eath. Tremors shook his body as the adrenaline surged through it. “You have to help me. You have to help me convince her.”
“You want me to help you break up Brooke’s wedding.”
“Yes.”
Mitch sighed. “This doesn’t seem right, man.”
“Please.”
“Okay, okay. But we’ve got to balance this with keeping Ryder Communications afloat, and keeping our jobs. Now how are we going to convince Brooke you’re the one?”
*
“I can’t believe he said he loves you,” Zoey said. She shifted on the couch, causing Brooke to sink toward the middle.
Brooke sniffed, throwing another tissue in the general direction of the trash can. Their normally tidy living room was starting to resemble the disaster zone that was Zoey’s bedroom. Tissues overflowed and spilled onto the beige carpet, and a few had even landed perilously close to the save the dates that were still spread across the floor. “How am I supposed to see him tomorrow and keep matching him up with these women and pretend that all of this is normal?”
Zoey rubbed small circles on Brooke’s back. “Maybe you don’t.”
“What?”
“Brooke, this is Luke. He’s here and he loves you and you love him. It’s perfect.”
“Zoey, I’m engaged.” She motioned to the living room floor. “I’m addressing save the dates. I love Antonio.”
“I know. But you love Luke too, and you’re lying to yourself if you deny it. The two of you fit. You’re different around Luke. Less uptight. More fun. Lighter. He brings out the happiness in you. With Antonio, you act more moody and stressed.”
Brooke shook her head before Zoey finished speaking. “The stress is because of the wedding, not Antonio. I will not be Luke’s first real relationship. I won’t be the girl he makes all the rookie mistakes with. Our friendship—”
“Don’t give me that crap. You tell your clients all the time that a deep friendship is a great foundation for a lasting romantic relationship. And eight years is a pretty solid foundation.”
“Luke is a fantastic best friend. But that’s all we’ll ever be. I have a fiancé that I really do love.” Brooke held up a hand. “I know you don’t understand it or agree with it, but I do love Antonio. Yeah, he’s kind of oblivious at times. And yeah, he has some old fashioned ideas about gender roles. But he’s sweet and kind and he loves me. He’s a responsible adult who knows how to be in a relationship. We’re seventy-one percent compatible.” She let her hands drop to her side. “I’m not gambling my happiness on Luke. My chips are solidly on Antonio’s number.”
Miss Match Page 15
