She looked up, and their gazes met. But the heat he’d hoped to see wasn’t there. “Hi, Pres. Didn’t expect you.” She put a bag of bagels and smoked salmon on the table.
“Dear, dear. Put that on a platter. You’re ruining the look of the table.”
“Sorry, Nan. I wasn’t thinking.” She marched into the kitchen.
“You can stop drooling, Pres,” Ruth whispered.
“She looks…today…oh my God.” He spoke in a quiet voice, his eyes wide.
“Your day’ll come. Have faith.” Ruth poured a cup for the young woman and refreshed the other two. Brooke joined them, carrying a silver platter with the salmon, cream cheese, and bagels artfully displayed. “That’s better, dear.”
“Looks beautiful,” Pres said. His blue eyes tried to make contact with her green ones, but she kept her gaze on her coffee.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“How was your week?” Ruth asked.
“Shitty. Oops, sorry, Nan.”
“That’s okay. I’m no prig.”
“Well, then. Shitty. Double shitty. Triple shitty.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Of course, she doesn’t want to talk about her shitty week in front of me. I should leave. I don’t belong here. He stood up. “Time to go. Buddy,” he called. The pug responded, trotting into the dining room.
“Must you? You just got here.” Ruth’s brows knitted.
“I’m sure he has other dogs to walk, Nan. We shouldn’t keep him,” Brooke said, spreading cream cheese on half a bagel.
“Actually, Ruth’s are the only dogs I walk…” Pres said.
“Hope your business picks up.”
He shrugged and sighed. She’s not listening. Why do I bother? She’ll never notice me. A heaviness lodged in his legs, but he forced them to move. Ruth accompanied him to the door. He stopped for a second to watch Brooke. She was standing at the window, munching on her food. His gaze roamed over her body. At six two, he preferred taller women, like Brooke. He guessed her to be about five foot seven or eight. Short girls made him feel like he was dating a little kid.
Her dress bunched slightly around her breasts. His fingertips tingled when he looked at them. He gauged they’d be a good fit in his hands. The neckline revealed a little cleavage, making his groin tighten even more. She leaned slightly, raising her hem. Long, lean legs. Perfect. And a rear end that wasn’t too small or too big. He sighed. Making love to her would be a dream come true.
As if she sensed his stare, she turned and shot a small smile his way. He could feel a blush steal into his cheeks. Being caught gawking at her like a teenager with a boner. Smooth, Preston, real smooth. He lifted his hand in a feeble wave before he headed for the elevator with Buddy in tow.
* * * *
Brooke bit into her bagel slathered with cream cheese and topped with salmon. Finishing her story to Nan had raised her appetite. She’d had to edit carefully, so as not to shock her grandmother. Still, she’d got the gist across.
“Caught fooling around in the office by a client? Wow, Brooke,” Nan said.
Brooke choked on a small bite, coughing it up, her face heated.
“Thought you could fool me with all that crap…that round-about explanation? Honey, I’m no stranger to sex. How do you think your mother got here?”
“TMI, Nan.” Brooke took a drink of coffee.
“Don’t give me any bullshit. Tell it straight. I’m too old for all that nicey-nicey garbage. Nothing but the facts.”
“Okay. Yeah. Lloyd was getting…frisky.”
“Why should your client care? It was after hours. You’re both single. You two are dating…unless, she’s got a thing for him. Though I don’t know how that could be.” Nan cut her half bagel in half again.
“No editorializing. I know you don’t like Lloyd. That’s okay. But I do.”
“Such poor taste for a Quincy,” Nan muttered.
“He’s so…so…”
“So what? So not good enough for you. And you turn your nose up at Pres Carpenter.”
“He’s nice. He’s cute. But he’s a dog walker, Nan. Lloyd has ambition, a future.”
“So does Pres. He’s not a dog walker. He just does that for me. He’s a writer. And he made a significant sale on a movie script, too.”
“Did he? Then when’s the movie coming out?”
“He didn’t say. But it was a six figure sale.”
“Lloyd makes six figures every year. He’s a management supervisor and maybe, someday, president of the agency.”
“Well, la-di-da! President of a company that does something with no value in this world—create advertising! What a waste of time, Brooke. At least Pres is creative. He writes. Lloyd is a bloodsucker, like all advertising people.”
“Like me? I’m in advertising.”
“Not like you. Your career in advertising is simply a temporary lapse in judgment.”
“Temporary? I’ve been at it for four years.”
“Temporary, yes. You’ll come to your senses.”
“Will I? I intend to make a success of it. Not like my parents, who could barely scrape together the money for rent and food.”
“At least they did something worth doing. They helped people.”
“Yeah? They were real responsible. They smoked pot. Smoked pot and drove. That’s real responsible.”
“That was a long time ago. Brooke, you have to forgive them.”
“Forgive them? They’re not here when I need them. They haven’t been here for eighteen years. You think it’s been easy, having no parents?”
“You had me.”
“I know. I don’t mean to put you down. But when everyone else had a mom and dad, I didn’t. I needed them. And they were selfish and careless, so they died. I miss them every day.” As her voice rose, tears clouded Brooke’s eyes. She pushed away from the table. Freddy and Ginger barked. Brooke went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
When she returned, Ruth was finishing her coffee. Brooke took a deep breath and sat down. “I’m sorry, Nan.”
Ruth squeezed Brooke’s hand. “Don’t apologize. I understand. They made a mistake. But you must forgive them. Look at what they’re missing—all these wonderful years with you. At least you’re still here. You can make a difference in the world. Do the things they didn’t have time to do.”
“I’m going to. I’m going to be responsible and earn a bucket of money. I’m going to be a success in the corporate world.”
“Ack! That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m going to take after Grandpa.”
“Grandpa wasn’t a very nice person, Brooke. He squeezed people, made money at the expense of his humanity.”
“And look at this place. What he provided for you. You should be grateful.”
“I am. I love my home. But I wish he could’ve done it by being a nicer person. I think he could have. He got sucked into the power thing.”
“You married him, Nan.”
“He wasn’t like that when we first started dating. He was the most idealistic man.” She sighed as a small smile played on her lips.
“So what happened?”
“He was going to run for office, make a difference that way. After deciding he’d raise the money himself so he wouldn’t be beholden to backers, he got carried away with the money-making part and forgot about the politics.”
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“I didn’t want to trash him to you, sweetie. He was good to me, but not to others.”
“I’m not going to be mean. Smart, instead. I’m going to be so good at what I do, no one can afford to fire me.”
Ruth smiled at her granddaughter. “I only want you to be happy.”
“I will.” Brooke fingered the cotton fabric of her skirt. “I love this dress. I think it’s my favorite of Mom’s.”
“It’s perfect on you. You look like her.” Ruth cupped her cheek.
“Except for the Felson nose.”
Ruth laughed. “I know you dress like this for me. It does make me happy to see you wear Mary Lou’s things.”
“They remind me of Mom, too.”
“You’re a beautiful girl, Brooke. You don’t need that sleazy Lloyd.”
“I want him. He’s okay. You’ll see.”
Ruth sighed. “Go your own way, then. I wish you luck.”
They finished their meal. Brooke stowed the leftover food in the fridge and leashed the dogs “Shall I take them for a walk?”
Ruth checked her watch. “That’d be grand. Mary’s coming over to watch Mr. Lucky with me. They never watch Cary Grant movies at the senior center, and her roommate is napping. Thank you, dear.”
Brooke kissed Nan’s cheek and headed for the lobby. The sun had warmed the day, so she opened her jacket and took a deep breath.
“You had a long walk this morning with Buddy, so I’m not going to take you to The Great Lawn again, okay?” The pugs turned to look at her with raised brows. She steered them toward the park as she plotted a route in her head.
Suddenly, Freddy bolted, yanking the leash out of her hand. He went tearing around behind a huge boulder. Brooke called his name, but the dog paid no attention. She tightened her hold on Ginger and ran after him.
As she rounded the corner, she ran smack into something hard and bounced off, landing on her rear end on the grass. Ginger screeched to a halt and barked, jumping up on the leg of the person who had blocked Brooke. She looked up into the sky blue eyes of a tall, brown-haired man in tight jeans and T-shirt.
Chapter Two
“Pres?”
“Looking for this?” He had Freddy tucked under his arm. The wiggly, runaway pug lunged for his face, managing to plant a few licks before Pres put him down. “Are you okay?”
He offered her his hand and pulled her up. Strong grip for a girl.
“Fine. Thanks.” She brushed the loose grass off her skirt. “Freddy, naughty boy,” she scolded.
“I think he wanted to play with Buddy. They can smell each other.” The two male dogs were nose to nose, wagging their tails. Pres inched closer to her, and Brooke didn’t move away. When his fingers brushed under her chin, she glanced up at him. “You look beautiful, today. Not that you don’t every day, but…” She put her forefinger on his lips, quieting him.
“I get it. Thanks.” Pres circled her waist, drawing her into his chest. Brooke held his gaze, creating heat in him. She softened against him and dropped Ginger’s leash to rest her hand on his pecs. At her touch, his insides melted, stirring his groin. The pug barked. Does she feel it, or is it just me?
“Are these your dogs, miss?” The deep, official-sounding voice broke through their reverie.
“Dogs?” She turned to face a police officer.
“They’re supposed to be on the leash, ma’am.” His mouth was set in a frown.
“They are. I dropped it for a moment. I—” Pres heard confusion in her voice and smiled to himself.
“What you two do is your business, but you’ve got to have those dogs leashed, with the leash in your hand. I’ll let you off with a warning this time. Hey, spring fever is going around.” He winked at Pres. “But don’t let it happen again. It’s a two-hundred-and-fifty dollar fine, per pooch.”
“Thank you, officer,” Brooke said, lowering her eyes. Pres sensed his face color as red as the geraniums by The Boathouse. She gazed at him and chuckled behind her hand. The patrolman tipped his hat, smiled, and went on his way.
“Wasn’t that lucky,” Pres said. “We missed a damn expensive ticket for doing nothing.”
“Nan said you sold a screenplay.” Brooke stepped back, putting some distance between them.
“That’s right.”
“Congratulations.” Their warm moment vanished, and Brooke’s polite mask returned.
“Thanks.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“When’s it coming out?”
“I don’t know. Just sold it two months ago.”
“I hope it does well. You deserve success.”
“Nice of you to say so. Why, exactly?” He bristled at her cavalier attitude. She’s buttering me up and for what? She doesn’t even like me.
She raised her eyebrows. “Because you work hard? Maybe because you’re a good person?”
“You don’t even know me. How do I qualify as a good person?” He strolled toward the park exit.
She followed. “You walk Nan’s dogs whenever she wants for no money.”
“Doing her a favor makes me a good person?” Don’t get brushed off, for once.
“Doesn’t it usually?” She stopped while the dogs sniffed a tree.
“How do you measure success, anyway?”
“I think a nice, juicy check, like you got for your movie, would scream success at me.”
“Is money the only measure of success?” That’s warmed her up to me?
“In the advertising world, it’s money and power.”
“Are you comfortable with that?” He lowered his head to meet her gaze.
She looked away. “Why the third degree?”
“Answer the question.”
“Okay, so maybe there are other kinds of success, too.”
“For instance?”
“Getting married and raising well-adjusted kids.”
“And…?”
“Doing a job well.”
“Any job?”
“Yeah, any job.”
“So, the janitor at school who works hard and keeps the building in great condition, would you consider him successful?”
She hesitated. “I guess. Yes, I would. But even if he’s great at being a janitor, doesn’t mean I’d want to go out with him.”
“I didn’t ask you about that. Stop anticipating my next question.” He smiled.
“And that is?” Her gaze met his.
“What does a guy have to do to get a date with you?” There. I’ve said it. Whew.
“I’m seeing someone. He’d have to wait until I was unattached.”
“And then?” He moved closer to her.
“Maybe if he asked, that might be the best way.” She grinned, shooting a flirtatious glance at him.
Pres burst out laughing, breaking the tension. Brooke joined him. He walked alongside her as they strolled toward Ruth’s building. So, it’s possible. Fantastic!
They reached the building. Rocky moved away, giving them a moment of privacy.
“Who is this guy you’re seeing?”
“My boss. Lloyd.”
“Your boss. Isn’t that risky?”
She shook her head. “I trust him. We’re…uh…close.”
“Ah, I see. Sleeping with the boss. That can be dangerous.”
“You think?” She turned worried eyes to him.
“What happens if you stop sleeping with him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is he an older guy?”
“He’s thirty-two. Sometimes people in that situation get married.”
“Do you want to marry him?”
“I don’t know.”
It could be worse. “Is he good to you?”
“Could be better. We’ve got a client who wants me off the her account. I think Lloyd is going to cave.”
“Where does that leave you?” The dogs sat patiently waiting, their tongues lolling.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned her back to him.
Pres rested a hand on her shoulder. “Any time you want to, I’m here.”
She faced him, her eyes full.
He eased her into his shoulder and rubbed her back. “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens,” he whispered.
She rested her head against him and snaked her arms around his waist. He kissed her hair. The touch of his lips snapped her to attention. She pushed away from him.
“I shouldn’t be doing that.”
“I won’t tell.” He grinned.
; “I don’t do that. I don’t cheat.”
“Nice to hear.” Her eyes met his. Time stopped as he lost himself in the emerald green pools. He wanted to kiss her so badly. Wait. My turn will come. Don’t blow it. She stepped back and lowered her gaze, her black lashes fanned out on her cheek making her almost irresistible. He tightened his control.
“Thanks for being there,” she said.
“Anytime.”
A German shepherd walked by, setting off Freddy, who began to bark, straining at his harness. Ginger and Buddy joined in.
“I’d better get them inside.”
Rocky opened the door for her.
“Take care.” Pres moved away, pulling Buddy from his friends.
* * * *
Brooke dressed with extra care. She wore a dark green, silk suit with a white, short-sleeved, silk-knit sweater. The neckline was scooped, but not too low. She applied her makeup with care and splashed on Lloyd’s favorite perfume. Standing in front of the mirror, she nodded. Just the right image. Pretty, but professional. I’m the best at my job. This is about work. It’s not personal. I must prevail and stay on that piece of business.
As she boarded the subway, her confidence began to wane. All these other people…all dressed for work. They deserve the best, too, right? I’m not better than any of them. Do I have a right to demand anything? Will Lloyd fire me? Would it be so terrible to take another position in the agency? Better than being unemployed.
She chewed a nail as she rode the elevator to the thirtieth floor of the building in midtown Manhattan where Gibbon & Walters had their offices. The receptionist greeted her in the usual way. Brooke opened her email and discovered a message from Lloyd.
Please stop by as soon as you come in.
She grabbed two cups of coffee from the small company kitchen and headed for Lloyd’s office. Her pulse was racing. He was sitting at his desk. Brooke put the paper cup down in front of him. Two sugars, one cream, as always. He picked it up and took a sip.
“Thanks.” He smiled, but it didn’t make it all the way to his eyes.
Shine Your Love on Me Page 2
