Tempting Brooke

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Tempting Brooke Page 8

by Kristen Proby


  Yet, here I am. Losing my cool.

  “Brody—”

  “I’m Mr. Chabot today,” I interrupt. “Apparently you all need to be reminded who signs your goddamn paychecks. This is my company, and I don’t care if I’m in Montana or Thailand, I can be back here in hours. I can be reached in seconds. Always. That hasn’t changed.”

  I glare at every single one of them, even those who had no idea about Brian’s fuck-up.

  “Mr. Chabot,” Brian says, his voice hard and his eyes full of resentment, “you were away on vacation, and this was a business decision that was easily dealt with without needing to consult you.”

  I stare at him for a long moment, rubbing my fingers over my lips. Brian’s been at my firm since the beginning, but he’s not a partner. He’s a senior employee.

  However, he’s always enjoyed throwing his weight around.

  “You’re fired,” I decide on the spot.

  “What the fuck!” He stands, his hands in fists, outraged. “You can’t fire me.”

  “Yes, I can,” I reply.

  “This company would be nothing without me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, and your biggest mistake. You actually believe that bullshit. You’ve brought a lot to this company over the past eight years, Brian, and I’m not excited to fire you, but you crossed a dangerous line, throwing away a lot of money with your ego. You’re done here. Go pack up your office and leave quietly, or I’ll call building security.”

  He glares, shoves his chair, and leaves the room without a word.

  “He’ll sue for wrongful termination,” Jay, another of my senior employees, says.

  “Let him try,” I mutter and take a deep breath. “Now, we’re going to get that client back, today. Jay, I want you on this one. You should have been from the beginning. Building this bridge in Tokyo is a big fucking deal, even if Brian would disagree.”

  We spend the next four hours poring over reports, plans, and ideas. By the time everyone goes to their offices, I lean back and rub my hand over my face in frustration.

  My phone beeps in my pocket.

  Just thinking about you. Love you.

  I grin and type a quick reply. Love you too. Call tonight. Promise.

  “You need to go home,” Van says as he walks into the empty conference room. He drops into a chair across from me. “You’re burning out.”

  “I’m busy. I was gone for a week.”

  He watches me impassively. “Go home,” he repeats.

  “I fired Brian.”

  “Oh, trust me, all of San Francisco knows. He hasn’t been quiet about it.”

  “I don’t care. I’m sick of him going over my head. Jesus, I am the head.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Did you know about this?”

  Van’s face doesn’t move. “If I’d known, you would have known, too.”

  “We’ll recover.”

  Van nods. “What do you need? Besides to go home?”

  “I don’t know.” I drag my hand down my face for about the thirtieth time today. Van’s right, I do need to go home, take a real shower, sleep for about four hours, and then get back to work. “I guess I’ll go home.”

  “I had the kitchen stocked,” he says and consults his phone. “You don’t have any appointments until ten tomorrow morning.”

  “You did that on purpose.”

  He just blinks. Van’s always been a stoic man.

  “See you at nine, then.”

  “Excellent.”

  I return to my office to gather my suitcase and get some paperwork in order, but it seems Van already did that when I was in my meeting.

  If I move to Montana, it would be best if Van moves too.

  Jesus, I’m a prick. How can I expect my assistant to move to a different state, just because I’m in love?

  That’s demanding a bit much.

  I shake my head and walk down to my car, which has a busted windshield, thanks to what looks like a baseball bat still sticking out of it.

  I pull my phone out and call Van.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call the cops. I’m not going home yet.”

  * * * *

  “Jesus,” I mutter in frustration. It’s been a month since I left Montana, and it seems like I’ll never be able to go back.

  Not for any significant amount of time.

  “I know you’re trying to get to Montana,” Van says, “but Mr. Tanaka only wants to talk to you.”

  “I can talk to him in Montana,” I reply. “They have internet there.”

  “But the team is here,” Van reminds me, watching me with cool gray eyes. He’s still stoic, but I’ve worked with him long enough to know that he’s frustrated with me.

  “You think this is ridiculous.”

  “No, I don’t. I think you’re head over heels for this woman, and wanting to be with her is normal. But could she move here?”

  “She has a business.”

  “So do you.”

  I shake my head. “Her business isn’t easy to move.”

  “Neither is yours.”

  “Fuck.” I take a sip of water, wishing it were something stronger. “So you’re saying this is hopeless. That I should break it off so I can appease Tanaka?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Van says.

  “Stop being so fucking diplomatic and tell me what you do think.”

  “I don’t know how you can have it both ways,” he admits. “Don’t deck me, but it’s a tough situation. You make a lot of money, Brody.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the money.”

  Van stares at me until I sigh, blowing out a deep breath.

  “Okay, I care about the money, but it’s not more important than her.”

  “What if you make this firm a partnership? That way, you can delegate more, and over time become more of a silent partner, commuting a couple of times a month.”

  I steeple my fingers, letting the suggestion roll around in my head.

  It’s a damn good one.

  “What do you think about moving to Montana?” I ask him, and smile when his eyes widen in surprise. “I work better when you’re around, and I would rather that didn’t change.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see Montana.”

  “Do you like snow?”

  He swallows hard. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if you’re up for it, you may find out.”

  Before he can reply, my phone rings. It’s Brooke, FaceTiming me.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  “Hi.” She smiles widely, then kisses the screen. “Thank you for these beautiful flowers. How did you manage to send me flowers without me knowing?”

  “I called Micah,” I reply. “He promised to keep it a secret.”

  “Well, he did a good job. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She bites her lip. I’m staring at the screen, soaking her in. God, I miss her.

  “Have you come any closer to having an idea on when you’ll be able to come back?” she asks.

  “Not yet,” I reply, and watch as the hope dies from her gorgeous brown eyes. “I’m sorry, babe, I’m trying to get this all figured out.”

  “I know.” Her voice is quieter now. “I’ll stop asking you.”

  “You can ask all the time,” I assure her. “Are we on for our phone date tonight?”

  She nods and offers me a brave smile before we end the call.

  “I have twenty fucking employees,” I say to Van as I toss the phone down in frustration. “They don’t need me to hold their hand. I like your idea of a partnership, and I’m going to talk to Jay right now.”

  “He’d be great at it,” Van affirms, and I nod.

  “It makes sense. Now, let’s get this wrapped up so I can go home.”

  Chapter Ten

  ~Brooke~

  The shop has been slow this week. With school starting, and the tourists leaving, the busy season is officially over.

  And I�
�m totally okay with that. It was exhausting this year. Of course, it didn’t help that as soon as Brody left, I completely saturated myself with work, staying at the shop late into the night and returning early the next morning, even when there was no need for me to be there that long.

  I’ve never been so caught up on the bookkeeping and inventory since I opened my doors three years ago.

  It’s a beautiful day outside. Our unbearably hot summer turned into a gorgeous Indian summer, so I have the front door propped open with a brick, letting in the breeze.

  “Go home,” Maisey says as she breezes into my shop. She’s been getting her new digs set up next door now that her busy wedding season is also finished. Once Brody decided to rent it to her, the process went incredibly fast.

  “I could say the same to you,” I reply as I open my laptop and wake it up. “When do I get to come and see what you’ve done over there?”

  “When it’s done,” she says with a grin.

  “You do realize that I can already see a lot of it from here.”

  “Stop peeking.” She glares at me, then busts out into a dance. “It’s so great, B. Also, I’ve decided on a name.”

  “Awesome, what is it?”

  “Cake Nation.” She giggles. “I know, it’s not super romantic, but I want it to be neutral, to attract men and women. And I don’t want people to think that it’s just wedding cakes.”

  “I think it’s a great name,” I assure her and give her a tight hug. “I can’t wait for you to get settled in, and then we can start to plan our joint events.”

  “It’s going to rock,” she agrees, then glances at the screen of my computer. “Why are you looking at real estate? That doesn’t look like here.”

  I sigh and return to the computer, paging through listing after listing of storefronts. “It’s in San Francisco.”

  She doesn’t say anything, so I glance up to find her scowling and leaning on my countertop.

  “What?”

  “We just talked about joint events.”

  “I know.”

  “How are we supposed to have joint events if you’ve moved to San Francisco?”

  “I don’t know.” I prop my head in my hands and rub my eyes until I see stars.

  “You wanted this shop,” she reminds me. Her voice is firm, but not unkind. “You asked Brody to stay so you could prove that this shop matters.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “If you were going to just leave and move to San Francisco, what was the point of any of that?”

  “I don’t want to move to California. Hell, I can’t afford to move there,” I reply and pace around the table. “I want to be here. I love my shop.”

  “I know you do,” she says softly. “He’s been gone a long time.”

  “Six weeks, two days, three hours,” I reply and hate myself a little because I could break it down to the minutes if she asked me to. “And I don’t think he’s coming back, Maise.”

  “Well, you’re wrong.”

  I jump at his voice and turn to find him leaning against the open doorjamb of my shop. I want to run over, jump on him, and kiss him until my lips are bruised.

  “Hey, Brody,” Maisey says.

  “Maisey.” He doesn’t look away from me. His arms are crossed over his chest, his muscles bulging deliciously against his blue T-shirt.

  He’s better looking now than the day he walked out of my house.

  “I’m just going to go back over to my new place,” Maisey says, her voice nonchalant and breezy, but she stops in front of Brody and sticks her finger in his chest. “Don’t be a dick.”

  She leaves and Brody comes inside, moves the brick, and closes the door behind him. We haven’t taken our eyes off of each other yet.

  It’s like we’re playing a super sexy version of chicken.

  “Why didn’t you believe that I was coming back?”

  “Took you awhile,” I reply when I can find my voice.

  “That’s not it,” he says, slowly approaching me. “We’ve never lied to each other, Brooke. Let’s not start now.”

  “Because you leave,” I blurt out. “That’s what you do. You left me before without a backwards glance, and I was starting to think that this time would be the same. That you’d get absorbed back into your life in California, and you’d—”

  “What? Forget you?”

  I nod, biting my lip to keep the tears at bay.

  “I told you I was coming back. We’ve talked as often as possible since I left.”

  “I know.” It’s a whisper. “And I didn’t think it was a lie.”

  “I had more to figure out than I anticipated,” he replies. “And I’m feeling like the dick Maisey warned me not to be for keeping you waiting so long without any answers. I had to work some magic with my business in the city, to make sure that I can spend a significant amount of time away without jeopardizing the whole thing. I have twenty employees, and they would be devastated if I had to shut down.”

  “I had no idea.” I wish he’d told me this weeks ago, then maybe I wouldn’t have been so worried, so constantly disappointed. “You never said your business was that big.”

  “It wasn’t a secret, we just never really talked about it.”

  “Because I was too busy worrying about keeping my own business open.”

  “Hey, that’s okay. I had a great week with you. I just had to make sure that everything was under control so I could spend many weeks with you here.”

  “I don’t think I can move to California.”

  He frowns. “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “I know, but it might be easier for you. It’s just, Brooke’s Blooms is finally way in the black, and it took me a long time to get it there.”

  “I know that. I’m not suggesting you move to California with me.”

  “So did you come here to break it off?”

  He stares at me for a long moment, then tips his head back and laughs.

  Laughs.

  “No, babe. I’m here. I have it figured out, and I’m here with you, if you still want me to be.”

  “Oh.” That’s all I can say as I blink at him, trying to soak his words in. “Really?”

  He nods. “Can I touch you now? Because I wouldn’t wish this kind of torture on my worst enemy.”

  I walk into his arms and hold on tight, relieved to finally have him home.

  “You’re staying with me,” I mumble into his chest. “Don’t rent a hotel room.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” I can feel him smile against my hair, and the next thing I know, he boosts me up onto my work table, steps between my legs, and cups my face, then lays the kiss of all kisses on me, making me tingle everywhere.

  “Missed you,” I whisper against his mouth.

  “Well, that’s about enough of that.”

  Epilogue

  One year later

  ~Brooke~

  It’s been a year since Brody walked through my door and my life changed.

  I wiggle my ass in time with Rhianna as she sings through my speakers. I’m in the shop, and it’s midnight, but I don’t care.

  I’m arranging my very own bridal bouquet. I’ve been fussing over it for two hours, adding roses, then taking them away again. I put greens in, then take them out.

  I don’t want too much green.

  I’m marrying the man of my dreams tomorrow. We’re supposed to spend tonight apart, according to tradition, and that means that I just can’t sleep. It’s hard to shut my brain down when Brody’s not next to me.

  I have no idea what he’s up to this evening, and that’s probably for the best. I trust him, and I know that he wouldn’t do anything to embarrass us, or hurt me. I hope he’s having fun.

  I had dinner with Maisey and a few of my other friends, making it an early night. I want to be well rested, so my mind is sharp tomorrow.

  The weatherman is calling for rain, but I defy Mother Nature to ruin my special day.

  She wouldn’t dare.r />
  I’ve rented the beautiful barn from Dean, and everything is in place and ready for our evening event tomorrow.

  Everything except this bouquet, because I just can’t get it exactly the way I want it.

  I’ve been mentally designing this since I was a kid. But I just can’t make it look the way it does in my head.

  “What are you doing here so late?”

  I jump, covering my heart and dropping the flowers at the same time, which means I’ll have to start over, and stare at my fiancé, who’s leaning in the doorway.

  I’m about to be his wife.

  “I’m trying to get this bouquet right, but it’s not coming together.”

  “I thought we were taking this week off?”

  I smile at him as I gather the flowers again and start over. “We are. This is for my bouquet.”

  “Oh.” He sighs, watching intently as I gather the blooms, then shakes his head. “No, I see the problem. You want this peony over here, by the rose. Not between the snapdragons.”

  I frown up at him. “Who’s the floral designer here?”

  “Hey, I learned from the best.”

  I smirk and shake my head, but when I really look at the flowers, he’s right. That’s exactly the problem.

  I switch the flowers, and then laugh as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

  “You were right.”

  “Can I get that in writing? So I can show it to you over the next eighty years or so?”

  I brush him aside and reach for the ribbon to tie it together. “You’re a funny, sexy man. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were ogling strippers or something.”

  “Are there strippers in Montana?”

  I stop to think about it. “Probably. Somewhere. Not here.”

  “Exactly. I was looking for you, but you weren’t at the house.”

  “Couldn’t sleep, and this needed to get finished. What’s up? We’re not supposed to sleep together tonight.”

  “Pity,” he says, kissing my temple. “I wanted to tell you in person. You have thirty days to vacate the building.”

  I turn to him, frowning in confusion. “This building?”

  “No.” His lips twitch up into a smile. “Your house. I just heard from the builder today. We can move into our house any time. The A/C is ready for you.”

 

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