Miss Match (23 page)

Brooke picked apart his argument, looking for a flaw. He could be lying. This could be the forgotten earring of some scarlet woman with whom he’d had a torrid affair.

Or he could be telling the truth. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d met with contacts in his room on business, and he wasn’t exactly possessive of his personal property. It sounded like something he’d do. She’d blown the whole thing out of proportion.

Of course he’s telling the truth. What am I doing? Mom is wrong. Antonio isn’t a cheater.

Please let him be telling the truth.

Her voice shook. “You swear on your life that’s what happened?”

“Yes.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I love you, Brooke. Why would I need anyone else? You are the woman I want to marry.”

Brooke sank into Antonio’s embrace, burying her face against his strong chest. Her shoulders shook.
Get out of my head, Mom. You’re wrong. Not all men are like Dad.
Had she really almost thrown away their future over a simple misunderstanding? She needed to stop self-sabotaging. She knew Antonio. He wasn’t a cheater. He loved her, and she loved him.

Brooke took a deep breath and whispered, “I’m sorry. I saw that earring and suddenly my mother was in my head. I could hear all the fights she and my dad had before the divorce and . . .” She shuddered. “And now he’s doing it again.”

“Shhh.” Antonio stroked Brooke’s head. “If this is going to work, you have to trust me, Brooke.”

“I do.”
I want to.

“And I trust you, so let’s put it behind us.”

“Okay.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Luke waited near the box office
where he’d picked up the tickets, hands clasped so he didn’t fidget with his tie. People wandered into the theater in everything from jeans to evening wear. Just inside the glass doors, Luke could see a lobby with chandeliers and velvet settees.

He nodded as a group of women passed. He wondered if Michelle would be the type to wear jeans or a dress to a Broadway play. Brooke would definitely have worn a dress, something comfortable but still dressy. How different things would be if he was seeing the musical with her. If they went as a date, and not as friends. If the stupid rules weren’t in place.

A woman broke away from the crowd. “Luke?” Her voice was timid, and she was taller than he’d expected—at least five foot ten inches. Her hair was nearly the same chestnut color as Brooke’s, but her eyes wider set and hazel instead of blue. Her lips were thinner too, her cheekbones not quite as high.

Stop comparing her.
Step one to attaining Brooke was making sure Toujour succeeded and she didn’t move to Italy. Which meant paying attention to his date.

Luke reached forward for a brief awkward hug. He saw a camera flash, but this time the paparazzi were being discreet.
Maybe because it’s a more formal location. They don’t want to get thrown out.
“It’s nice to meet you, Michelle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” They both stood there for a moment. Luke hated this part of first dates—the part where he didn’t know what to say or how to behave.

“Shall we go inside?” Luke asked, gesturing toward the doors.

Michelle nodded. Luke showed the usher at the door their tickets. He didn’t touch Michelle, but unlike his date with Tamera, he didn’t feel like she expected him to hold her hand. They made their way past the velvet settees and grand piano that filled the room with music. At the correct door, another usher took their ticket stubs. Michelle looked around in awe as they walked down the aisle to their seats on the mezzanine floor.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. She pointed to the ornate crown molding painted gold. “I’ve always loved that style.”

“It’s great,” Luke agreed, although he hadn’t really paid attention until she pointed it out. He found the correct row and stepped aside to let Michelle enter first.

“These are fantastic seats,” she said. “I can’t believe Toujour got such great tickets at such late notice. I wonder how they do that.”

“I’m not sure. Brooke always takes care of it.”

“Well, this is fabulous. I’ve been dying to see
The Lion King
. When I told my second graders that I was going tonight, they were so jealous. I promised them I’d memorize the important details and tell them all about it.”

That’s right—she taught school. “That’s really cool,” Luke said lamely.

“We’re doing a unit on animals right now, and we just finished studying the lion. We’ve learned all about their habitats and lives. We went on a field trip to the zoo today to celebrate the end of the term.”

Michelle prattled on about her job as a teacher, and Luke tried to respond appropriately. But his mind kept wandering to Brooke. If she were here, she’d point out the couple a few rows ahead who were clearly having a fight, or admire the African designs in a brilliant gold on the stage curtain, or laugh at the usher who was trying to help a confused elderly couple find their seats. He was grateful when the lights dimmed and the production began so he could sit back and not have to try to keep up a conversation with Michelle.

An hour and a half later, the lights went up again for intermission. “Wow,” Michelle said, fanning herself with the playbill. “This is awesome.”

“They’re doing a great job,” Luke agreed. But the truth was, the production was kind of boring. Broadway wasn’t really his thing.

You wouldn’t be bored if you were here with Brooke.

He brushed the thought aside. He and Brooke were . . . well, whatever. Right now his priority was making sure Michelle had a good time, and that nothing happened the press would consider headline news. At least, not the bad kind.

“Excuse me,” a voice called from the aisle. A camera flash nearly blinded Luke. The woman dropped the camera, held around her neck by a strap. “Samantha Hamilton,
California Globe.
Can I get a statement from you two?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Would fooling the press ever get easier? “Of course,” he said. “As long as my date doesn’t mind.”

Michelle gave a tight smile. “Not a problem.”

Samantha nodded, pressing a switch on her hand-held recorder and holding it toward them. “Can I get your name for the article?”

“Michelle.”

Samantha frowned. “Last name?”

Michelle’s expression didn’t change. “Just Michelle.”

Samantha grunted. “What do you think of the cast’s production of
The Lion King
?”

“It’s great,” Luke said. “I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Michelle agreed.

Samantha frowned, as though they were patients being difficult during a medical exam. “What can you tell us about yourself? America is dying to know who Luke Ryder is dating now.”

“I’m a second grade teacher.” Michelle shrugged, as though there was nothing more to tell.

“Uh-huh. And how’s the date going?” Samantha asked.

Luke wished a hole would open up in the floor and swallow him. Pretending was exhausting. “I can’t speak for my date, but I’m enjoying myself. Michelle is a great girl.”

“Yeah, Luke’s great,” Michelle echoed.

Go away,
Luke telepathically told Samantha. But of course it didn’t work.

The theater lights flashed on and off, a signal the musical would begin again in five minutes. “One last question, and then I’ll let you get back to the show,” Samantha said. “This is the one America is dying to have answered. Luke Ryder, will you end this date with a kiss, or will you end it with another drunken brawl?”

Luke’s hands curled around the playbill, and he wished he could smack Samantha with it. “We really should get back to the show,” he said.

“Are you deliberately avoiding my question?”

Luke glanced over at Michelle. “You’re making my date uncomfortable, Ms. Hamilton.”

An usher appeared then, his face pulled into a scowl. “Miss, you can’t use cameras in here. I’ll need to hold on to that until after the show is over.”

“I’m not giving you my camera,” Samantha said.

“Intermission’s over. If you want to argue, you’ll have to step into the hallway with me. Otherwise, hand over the camera.”

“Where is your manager?” Samantha demanded. “I want to speak with him immediately.”

The usher’s scowl deepened. “Right this way.”

Samantha angrily stomped after him.

Luke laughed uncomfortably. “Sorry about that.”

Michelle’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Are they always so invasive?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

The lights dimmed. “I’m glad I’m not you then,” she whispered as the curtains opened.

The rest of the play was just as good as the first half, but all Luke wanted was to go home. To cuddle up next to Brooke and watch a movie. After the final number, the audience gave the cast a standing ovation. Then the lights flicked on and the auditorium started to empty. Michelle and Luke followed the crowd outside. The cool December air was a welcome relief after the stuffy building.

“I have reservations at a dessert café down the street if you’re interested,” Luke said.
Please say you’re tired or too busy or need to wash your hair and get home.

“That sounds great,” Michelle said, buttoning her coat against the chill.

“Do you mind walking? It’s only a block away.”

“Sure.”

They headed in the direction opposite the parking lot. The street was calm and peaceful, but the silence made Luke uncomfortable.

“Did you enjoy the musical?” he asked. There had to be something they could talk about. How long would dessert take? If they ordered right away and he asked for the check with the meal, they could probably be in and out in thirty minutes.

“I did. I wish my class could’ve seen it. But alas, public schools don’t have the budget for that kind of field trip. Getting them to let me take the kids to the zoo was like pulling teeth.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. I love my job, but I don’t love the funding issues and parent complaints and politics that come with it. I’ll miss the kids, but when the time comes to quit I won’t miss anything else.”

Luke shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re planning on quitting soon?”

Michelle blushed. “Well, no. Not until I get married and have a baby at least. But when I do have kids, I’d like to stay home with them.”

And now they were talking about marriage.
Brooke, the things I do for you.
“That’s rare these days. That a woman wants to stay home with her children, I mean.”

“I’m old fashioned, I suppose.”

“I think it’s refreshing. My mom stayed home while raising me.” Luke held the door open for Michelle. The restaurant wasn’t what he’d expected. The maître d’ stood at a rustic podium. Luke squinted. A plaque on the front read
made from recycled barn wood.

“Just two?” the maître d’ asked.

Luke nodded, and they were soon seated at a table, also made from recycled materials. Luke perused the menu and was pleased to see the options weren’t too weird. This seemed like the type of place that would serve wheat grass shakes.

“This looks great,” Luke said. “Order anything you’d like.”

Michelle smiled. “What are you going to have?”

“I think a slice of pecan pie. What about you?”

Michelle scanned the menu. “Wow, they have so many vegan options.”

Suddenly the restaurant made sense. “That’s right, Brooke mentioned you’re vegan.”

“Yeah, for three years now. When I found out how the animals we use for nourishment are treated, I couldn’t stomach the thought of animal products anymore.”

“Uh-huh.”

The waiter appeared then, and they both placed their orders. Luke was already out of things to say.

Michelle smiled, and her eyes were warm and understanding. “You can quit trying.”

Luke’s heart stopped beating, then thrummed loudly in his chest. “Excuse me?”

“I know there isn’t going to be a second date. This . . .” She motioned between them. “There’s no chemistry.”

Luke glanced around, but there were no paparazzi in sight. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly.

“Don’t be. I couldn’t handle this anyway.” She waved a hand vaguely in his direction.

He winced. “Ouch. Thanks.”

She laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just couldn’t handle being in the spotlight all the time. The fame.” She shrugged. “It’s not for me. And I know if most girls in America heard me saying that right now, they would freak out and call me crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy. I appreciate your candor, in fact. Now we can enjoy our dessert without the pressure.”

As though the waiter had heard them, he appeared with their food right then. Luke dug into the pie. Fantastic.

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” Michelle asked.

Luke blinked. “Excuse me?”

“There’s another girl.”