by J. A. Dennam
Her loud sobs filled the room. The humiliation of Ethan witnessing her misery was just too much, but she didn’t have the strength to break away. Unable to hold it in any longer, she let go of several weeks’ pent-up frustration, sadness, and betrayal. As her tears soaked through his shirt, he held her in a tight grip while stroking her hair with quiet reverence. They stayed that way for a while, on the floor of her studio, surrounded by her hobbies, her achievements…, and now her failures.
When exhaustion took over and her sobs had died down, he rose to his feet with her in his arms. Brooke wondered how she could be so tired. Oh, yeah, she’d practically been awake for five whole days. Eyes swollen and scratchy, nose stuffed up and raw, she curled up against his chest and let him walk her downstairs and to the bedroom. On the verge of sleep, she heard a faraway curse and then felt herself being lowered to the couch instead. Then he draped a blanket over her shoulders. His voice came from somewhere in her dreams, telling someone that he wasn’t going back to work for a while.
And then everything faded to black.
When consciousness returned, Brooke was in her own bed, her face burrowed in soft pillows. They smelled lovely, fresh…as though they’d been pulled straight from the dryer. She inhaled and rolled over slightly to find somebody lying next to her. She blinked, lost focus and blinked some more. “Ethan?” she groaned.
The body moved and sat up a little. “Brooke, dear, it’s Mom.”
Her mother’s voice shocked her into a near heart attack. Brooke grabbed her eyeglasses. Once they were on, she looked at her mother with a mix of happiness and disappointment. Just how long had she been out?
“Mom?” she said in confusion. “Aren’t you in Texas?”
Brenna Monroe’s lean features bore, as usual, the mark of eternal patience. Her casual lemon-yellow slacks and patterned blouse were new and her light red hair was shorter than usual. Other than that, she looked like the same striking woman who’d occupied the corner office before Brooke had. She smiled and pulled Brooke’s hair away from her face. “Apparently not. How are you feeling?”
“I—I’m okay. What are you doing here?”
And where was Ethan?
“Your father and I were worried,” Brenna explained with a hint of tension. “You wouldn’t answer your phone or return our emails, so we decided to come down.”
Still in a state of confusion, Brooke sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The intense glow lighting the curtains from the sliding glass doors boasted an early afternoon hour. “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.”
Her mother got up and opened the curtains bathing the already bright room in painful sunshine. “Not according to the young man we found here when we arrived.”
“Is he still here?”
“No. But, before he left, he filled us in on what happened.”
Shit. Swinging her feet to the floor, Brooke adjusted to this bit of news quietly. “I should have been the one to tell you.”
The mattress dipped as Brenna sat beside her. She put a hand on Brooke’s knee. “It’s okay to let other people handle things once in a while. He seems to genuinely care for you.”
Brooke squeezed her mother’s hand, glad for the company. “If there was anything between us, it’s over,” she stated miserably.
“Are you sure?”
She straightened and gave her mother a smile. “You cut your hair. I like it.”
Brenna pulled at her shaped, chin-length ends. “Not too short?”
“Nope. How’s your heart? Are you taking care of yourself?”
With an airy laugh, the woman got up and helped Brooke to her feet. “Your father’s taking better care of me than I ever did.” She retrieved a pair of slippers and plopped them into position. “Now that we’re both retired, the man’s driving me insane.”
“Where is Dad, by the way?” Brooke asked as she slid her feet into the slippers.
“He went out shortly after your friend left. They talked for a while.”
A groan escaped. “About what?”
“I don’t know, I came in here and fell asleep beside you.” Brenna threw a sweater at her and headed out through the door toward the kitchen. “Come on, lazy bones, let’s get a snack.”
Feeling somewhat better, Brooke decided to face the rest of the day in complete denial. The fact that her parents were there now to act as blissful distractions had a lot to do with it. Brenna went about the kitchen as if she owned it, pampering her daughter just like Brooke knew she would. She felt like she was fifteen again, and she allowed herself to believe it for as long as she could.
Thoughts of Miranda, Ethan, and Monroe Graphics didn’t enter her head, despite the stark reminders that remained. She did, however, have distant recollections of strong arms wrapped around her…a welcome safety as his heartbeat thrummed against her back while she drifted in and out of sleep.
Wait a minute…had that been real?
As Brooke added honey to the mug of hot tea her mother had prepared, she sat at her kitchen island in thoughtful silence. Brenna was looking through the fridge. “After our snack we’ll go grocery shopping.” The door closed and she approached with an apple and some cheese. “There’s more space in your fridge than a Kmart parking lot.”
Brooke watched as she took out a knife and a wooden block and began to chop. “Sorry. I haven’t exactly been out.”
Her mother looked up from her task. “So tell me more about Ethan. He’s adorable.”
Thoroughly depressed, Brooke reached for a slice of apple. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Would you rather I speculate on my own?”
She chewed slowly, her focus blurred. “He’s the new vice president of Monroe Graphics. Needless to say, we didn’t get along very well.”
“That’s not the vibe I got earlier.”
What her mother didn’t understand was how thoroughly Brooke had screwed up. “That vibe you got was pity, mother. He hates me.”
“Oh, I don’t know about—”
“Mom, please.” Brooke held up a hand in a pleading effort to make it stop. “We were at each other’s throats from day one, and when we finally started trusting each other, I lied to him. I’m no better than Miranda in that respect, and he’ll never trust me again. So can we talk about something else?”
“No, we can’t.” Brenna put down the knife. “You’re miserable, darling, and I think it goes deeper than what happened with Miranda.”
It was always an open-book type of scenario with her mother. Brooke’s eyes began to tear up. “So, Ethan told you about her?”
She nodded with sadness. “Your father, especially, was pretty devastated.”
Of course he was. Those two had laughed together as much as she and Brooke had. “Do you think he’ll want to go after her?”
“Ethan sure wanted him to. He even offered to testify if it came down to that.”
Then again, he hadn’t been close to Miranda. Perhaps they needed an outsider to keep things real. “I think of all the times she came over,” Brooke said with sadness. “She was always so eager to help me with my problems or to just chill. I have to wonder how much of it was real and how much wasn’t. I’m so paranoid now that I don’t even know what to think of Amy. Will she be devastated too, or did she know about Miranda all along?”
Brenna sipped tea, her face full of sympathy. “It’s a tough call when you’ve been deceived by the people you love.”
Brooke swallowed back another wave of emotion. “Ethan told me I was too naïve to be senior manager, let alone vice president. Boy, was he right.”
“Trusting your friends doesn’t make you naïve, darling. It makes you human. He knows that.”
She sighed. “I hated him, Mom. I’m the one who started this fight between us because he was such a pompous jerk at the beginning. I guess a snake in the open is better than one in the grass, right?”
Brenna set the mug down and looked at her squarely. “You are so in love with that man you ca
n’t stand it.”
Yes, of course she was, but hearing it out loud only made her feel worse. “Look, Mom…I was thinking of getting out of here for a few weeks. Maybe go back to Texas with you and Dad.”
“Didn’t you just take a vacation?”
She watched her mother clean up. “If you haven’t heard, I’m kind of on another one.”
The front door opened and closed. Brooke turned on her stool to see her father stroll into the kitchen wearing the classic navy-blue slacks and buttoned-down shirt he liked to travel in. The colorful band of his Panama hat reflected the artsy side of him and also hid the thinning hair beneath it. When he saw her, he took it off, his face familiar and loving. Despite all that had happened, he was the blast of fresh air she needed at that moment. Brooke got up and let him enfold her in a warm bear hug.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she said against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his aftershave. “I shouldn’t have been so mad at you.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you. Maybe a lot of this could have been avoided.”
“You’re right about that.” She broke away and peered up at him. The man wore such a look of sorrow that it broke her heart. “Guess we both learned a lot, huh?”
He gave her a tired half-smile. “You’re a sponge, sweetheart. You’ve always had immeasurable talent and once this all settles, you’ll be alright. I promise.”
“She wants to come back to Texas with us for a while,” Brenna broke in.
Brooke gave them an encouraging nod. “Yes, for a visit. And, since I’ll be far away from here, I can find a job and stay in Texas permanently.”
Her father held her at arm’s length. “What in hell for?”
Her smile faded. “Why in hell not?”
“This is your home, Brooke. You love it here. Don’t run away from it because of what happened. You’re stronger than that.”
“You didn’t think so before,” she argued with a scowl.
“I was wrong,” he retorted with stern reprimand. “Let’s keep it that way.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.” Brenna came up to her and ran a loving hand down the length of her hair. “The first thing you need to do is get out of this townhouse for a few hours. You must have an awful case of cabin fever.”
Stanley took a piece of cheese from the plate. “Right. You can help us settle in at the house and then we’ll go to the yacht club for dinner. Maybe take the boat out for a sunset spin. The gulf air will get your wheels turning again.”
Remembering her vow not to wear shoes that day, Brooke’s shoulders slumped with dread. “But I don’t want—”
“Hey.” Brenna gave her a gentle shake. “You’ll do as you’re told, young lady.” Then she linked arms and steered her toward the bedroom. “Maybe we’ll see dolphins. Remember how you loved to watch the dolphins?”
With a sigh of surrender, Brooke gave a reluctant nod and let herself be guided. She did love seeing the dolphins keeping pace with their trawler as it navigated the choppy waves. As a child, when they’d go on weekend trips to Key West, she even used them to decide what she wanted to eat. If a dolphin appeared, she’d have a ham sandwich for lunch. If not, it would be tuna. When it came time to raid the cooler, she’d know exactly which sandwich to take.
Even if it wasn’t always the one she wanted.
24
ON THURSDAY AFTERNOON, THE SUN DOMINATED a cloudless blue sky. The temperature was cool enough to eat outside in Naples’s Fifth Avenue South shopping district. Royal palms lined the sidewalks, adding their lofty tropical sprays to the already colorful historic and modern architecture around her. Brooke loved to eat there and watch the tourists and locals lingering at the windows, their arms hooked through bags filled with lavish purchases.
Wearing a light sundress and sandals, her hair down and moving with the occasional breeze, Brooke reveled in her newly acquired positive attitude. She took her attention away from her laptop long enough to accept a refill of iced tea and the check. When the waiter left, a shadow fell over her table.
“You’re getting pretty good at avoiding the rain.”
While Ethan’s voice moved over her like a warm caress, Brooke ignored the skip of her heartbeat and kept her eyes trained on the computer screen. “Though it seems like a cloud just rolled in,” she replied with the barest hint of a smile. When he didn’t respond, she looked up through her prescription sunglasses and found him in full GQ mode, from the fitted lines of his three-piece suit to his sexy smolder. His sleek shades gave him movie star appeal, something that was clearly getting noticed by several young women on the sidewalk.
But he was here for her…and she didn’t have to imagine what was beneath that suit. She cocked her head. “How did you find me?”
“When you wouldn’t answer your cell, I called your father. He said you’d be here.”
Brooke sipped from her straw. “He gave you his number?”
Ethan flipped his car keys. “Not everyone thinks I’m a turd.”
The reminder made her smile. She leaned back, her voice soft. “When I called you that, you were a turd. But you’re not anymore.”
“Gee, thanks. May I?”
She watched him with a wry frown as he pulled out a chair without waiting for her answer. “Help yourself.”
“You look different from the last time I saw you,” he said. “Hell, you look different period.” The waiter came by and Ethan declined his offer for anything to drink.
“I feel better,” Brooke replied with a nod of appreciation.
His next words came out husky and full of meaning: “You look beautiful.”
Sensing his intense gaze from beneath the sunglasses, her face instantly warmed. “Thanks for everything you did last Friday.” She gave an embarrassed smile. “Tolerating my little breakdown and handling my parents.”
He nodded once. “I’m glad I was there.”
Though she wholeheartedly agreed, she refused to say it, at least not until she accurately deciphered his reason for seeking her out.
Ethan watched the busy scene around them from his chair. “Your father also said that you went for a boat ride and came back with a new career goal in mind. He made some comment about dolphins that I didn’t quite get.”
She smiled while flipping through a list of job prospects on her computer screen. “When I was younger, I sort of let them make decisions for me.” She found one that seemed promising and wrote it down on her notepad. “Of course, my problems were a little more mundane back then, but I figured I might as well give it a try. See what happens.”
Ethan leaned over and took a peek at her list. “How does that work exactly?”
“I told myself if I saw dolphins I’d stay here and find a new career. If I didn’t see dolphins, I’d move to Texas with my parents and stay with my old career.”
He snorted in disbelief. “You based a decision like that on dolphins?”
“Why not?”
The annoyance in his tone was palpable. “I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d put a little more heart into it.” She only shrugged and took another sip from her straw. Ethan scowled and pointed to the notepad. “Since those are local phone numbers, I guess that means you saw dolphins?”
Her pen scribbled across the page. “Nope, not a single one.” When she looked up, it was to find him fighting a smile.
“But you decided to stay anyway,” he concluded, relaxing back into the smug Ethan that she’d come to know so well.
“This is my home,” she said simply. “And despite having no formal degree, I figured I can try my luck with something in software.”
“That’s the only reason you wanted to stay?”
It was posed as a dare—a dare to tell the truth and admit her feelings for him. Brooke stared right back, unwilling to break first. “Are you ever going to get around to why you’re here?”
He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment and then said, “Ken
wants to see you.”
Her face fell a little. “What for?”
“No idea.”
But Brooke had a feeling she knew. Her shrimp salad began to rumble in her stomach. “Did you tell him about Miranda?”
“You know I did.”
She released a long, drawn-out breath. “I guess it’s best to get it over with.”
When they both stood up, Ethan asked, “What exactly do you think is going to happen?”
“Probably something that will require the presence of lawyers and henchmen,” she answered with a grimace.
“I don’t know. What if he wants you to come back?”
Brooke stopped halfway while closing her laptop. “Is that what he said?”
Ethan shrugged. “At this point, I’m speculating as much as you.”
She continued to pack up. “Then it’s doubtful. As VP, you would be privy to something like that.”
“Would you take your old job back?” he asked. “Even if it meant honoring the deal we made?”
A laugh escaped from her lips. “You mean as your secretary? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
His grin said it all. Rolling her eyes, Brooke put her laptop into the case. Then she noticed that Ethan was slipping money into the bill sleeve. She made a grab for it. “I can pay for my—”
“Just speeding things along, Monroe.” He put a hand under her elbow and directed her toward his parked car. “You can ride with me. I’ll bring you back here afterward.”
For the first time since that awful day, Brooke sat in her father’s old office feeling awkward in her sundress. The masculine combination of dark walls and wood surrounded her like a long-lost home, yet it was a place she never expected to see again. The fact that another man occupied it and had even fired her was an open wound that she never expected to heal, which is why she sat before Ken Stevens in a state of extreme confusion. “I don’t understand. This isn’t about Miranda?”
Ken propped a hip on the edge of his desk. “Your father and I are dealing with Miranda together,” he said, “but that’s an entirely separate issue. Brooke, I’d like you to come back.”
