Miss Match (24 page)

“How did you know?”

“I can just tell. You don’t act
like a single man. You’re emotionally married to someone already.” Michelle paused, her fork playing designs in the whipped cream of her trifle. “Is it Brooke? She shows up in the papers with you a lot.”

Luke rubbed his eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t breathe a word.” They were quiet for a few minutes as they ate. “I hope you get her.”

“What?”

“Brooke. I hope you win her over.”

“It’s complicated.”

“How complicated?”

Luke smiled grimly. “You really must not read the papers. She’s engaged.”

“Oh. That does make things more difficult. But not impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

The waiter brought the check then, and Luke paid the bill. He wanted to resume the conversation, but waited until they were walking to the theater parking lot before repeating his question.

“I’ve waited my whole life to fall in love,” Michelle said. “I know I’m not exactly a spinster, but it still feels like I’ve been waiting forever. If I felt about a man the way I can see you feel about Brooke, I would never let him go.”

They paused in front of a car that was obviously Michelle’s. An elementary school decal was in the back window, and her steering wheel cover looked like crayons. Michelle toyed with the keys in her hand.

“What would you do to keep him around?” Luke asked.

Michelle grinned. “Whatever it takes.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“Exactly.”

Luke leaned forward and hugged Michelle, feeling genuinely grateful to be on this date for the first time all night. “Thanks. I had a great time.”

“Me too.” Michelle unlocked the car, and he held the door open for her. “Fight for her, Luke. Don’t let her get away.”

Luke stood in the parking lot, watching until Michelle’s tail lights disappeared around the corner. Michelle was absolutely right. He needed to fight for Brooke.

He just wasn’t sure how.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Brooke leaned back in her office chair
, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out. She focused on the sound of Zoey typing away, trying to time a breath with every third or fourth click.

Ten minutes and Luke would be here to discuss his Friday night date.

Her stomach twisted, and her breaths grew shaky instead of steady.

The weekend had been filled with pointed comments from Antonio about Italy’s many virtues. On Saturday, they’d visited the vineyard where the wedding would take place. As they talked over table placement and ceremony space with the wedding planner, Brooke found herself wondering if she even wanted the wedding to happen. It left her feeling confused and guilty, and trying overly hard to be upbeat and enthusiastic.

Antonio was exactly the kind of guy she needed. He had a solid family life. He valued commitment and loyalty. They were compatible in all the ways they needed to be. And she really, truly loved him.

But Luke . . .

“Are you going to be okay?”

Brooke slowly opened her eyes and focused on Zoey. Her brow was scrunched over heavily made up eyes, and her arms were folded across her chest. “I’ll be fine,” Brooke said.

Zoey raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Brooke, it shouldn’t be this hard.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you really wanted to spend the rest of your life with Antonio, it wouldn’t matter what Luke did or said.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brooke said quickly.

Zoey let out a harrumph.

“You shouldn’t be talking about this. Luke will be here any moment,” Brooke said. She glanced around to make sure he hadn’t sneaked up behind her. But all that was behind her was another cubicle wall and the gentle murmur of co-workers chatting.

“I could talk until I was blue in the face, but it’s pointless. You’re too stubborn.” Zoey stood, grabbing her laptop. “I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?”

“I know. Thanks, Zo.”

Zoey nodded and left for one of the parlours. Despite Christmas being only two days away, the phone lines still buzzed on Lianna’s desk, and the chatter of matchmakers and clients alike filled all corners of the building. Luke’s celebrity status was still helping bring business in. That was something, at least.

Brooke took one last deep breath, then grabbed her own laptop and headed for a parlour. She shut the door behind her, blocking out the noise of Toujour. The sudden silence was welcoming. She wanted to kick off her shoes, sink into one of the arm chairs, and sleep away the disaster that was her life.

If only it were that easy.

She settled into a chair, shoes still firmly on her feet, and brought up Luke’s file. What would he say about his date with Michelle? Brooke had selected her carefully. Her gentle personality would complement Luke’s. And she definitely wasn’t the type to get hung up on his celebrity status.

There was a tap on the door.

Brooke’s stomach was suddenly in her throat. She set her laptop on the coffee table and opened the door. Luke looked like an ad for menswear, with his suit hugging him in all the right places and the five o’clock shadow across his strong jaw, and he smelled like spearmint toothpaste. Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to look away.

“Right on time,” she said, shutting the door. “I’ve got your file all pulled up—”

He crushed her to him in a hug, knocking the wind out of her. She didn’t mind, though. Not even a little bit. Instead she melted against him, without consciously giving herself permission to do so.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

Brooke stiffened, pushing him away. “You can’t keep saying that.”

“It’s true. I’ll keep saying it every time I see you, whether you like it or not.”

Brooke swallowed, her brain jumping from outrage to jittery happiness quickly enough to make her nauseous. She couldn’t even think clearly enough to pick out which rule he was violating. The best course of action was probably to ignore him.

She sat down, pulling her laptop toward her. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, how would you rate your physical attraction to Michelle?”

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

Brooke curled her fingers against the keyboard. “Please, I’m working right now. Just answer the question.”

“A three.”

“A three?” Brooke stared at him in disbelief. She had worked hard to find a good match for Luke, despite her growing misgivings. “Michelle is beautiful
.
She’s cultured and well-educated.”

“I agree.”

“She’s perfect relationship material.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then why aren’t you attracted to her?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

She gritted her teeth. He was impossible. “Stop it. You don’t get to do this right now.”

“When would be a better time for you?”

Never.
She’d just keep ignoring him. Maybe he’d get the hint eventually. “Okay, you were only attracted to her on a three. Next question—what do you feel was the best part of your date?”

“The part where she told me she hoped I could win you over, and if she loved someone as much as I clearly love you, she’d fight for that person.”

Brooke slammed the lid closed on her laptop. “You talked to Michelle about me?” Her hands trembled as she set her laptop on the coffee table. She was worried she’d throw it across the parlour if she didn’t. “What if the press finds out about that? I could get fired. Toujour could be ruined.”

“We were discreet, and the conversation only lasted a minute at most.”

“You’re undermining my efforts to save the company.”

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Her foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace.

“I will do anything to convince you we’re meant to be together.”

“We aren’t meant to be together. I’m meant to be with Antonio.” The suspicious earring flashed into her mind, but she pushed it aside.

“I believe you love Antonio. But he can’t live up to the eight years of history we’ve had together. He wasn’t there for your graduation from high school, or college. He didn’t take you to the winter formal or senior prom. You didn’t spend spring break in Miami Beach with him. He wasn’t the one who comforted you after your parents’ divorce and at your grandpa’s funeral. A relationship, a life together, is made up of memories. And we have a thousand of those.”

Brooke wanted to put a shoe through the pewter gray wall. “Yeah, we have those memories. But I have a lot of other memories, Luke. Memories of the women I found you with when I stopped by with donuts on Saturday mornings in college. Memories of finding you necking in the corner of some club. Memories of you flirting with me, and making me feel like the only girl in the world, only to turn around and do the exact same thing with someone you’d just met.” Brooke lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “If you love me so much, why have you spent most of the last eight years sleeping with other women?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by that question. “I . . .”

“You can’t answer that, can you? I love you, Luke. I do. And our friendship means everything to me. But I can’t love you like that.”

“I haven’t been with another woman in months. I’m changing.”

“Prove it.” She stood and grabbed her laptop. “This meeting is over. With Christmas, it’ll be a week or so before I can find you another date. I’ll let you know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

She was on a beach with Luke.
He looked glorious in his swim trunks. A wave crashed into his legs, and Brooke laughed as he grimaced at the shock of cold. His bronzed skin glistened in the sun, and rivulets of water ran down his well-defined abs.

“Come in,” he called, motioning to her.

Brooke shrank against her beach towel, warm from the sun. “No way.”

“Don’t make me come get you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He sloshed through the water, making his way back to shore. Brooke shrieked and leapt up, running away. Luke caught her around the waist and she laughed. He threw her over his shoulder and headed toward the ocean while she giggled and protested the whole way.

“
Buon natale
,
mia dolcezza.
” Warm lips caressed her cheek.

Brooke’s eyes popped open. Antonio leaned over her, smiling. His curls were messy and matted down on one side, evidence that he’d just woken up himself. The plum colored sheets were soft underneath her skin, the beige walls familiar.

She wasn’t on a beach with Luke. She was in her own bedroom with Antonio. Her cheeks heated as she recalled the dream. What was wrong with her?

It’s just a stupid dream,
she told herself. It meant nothing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. “Merry Christmas.”

“I made you breakfast,” he said. “An American breakfast, even. Cinnamon rolls.”

“Sounds delicious.” Her heart pricked with guilt. Antonio was perfect. So why was she pining over Luke?

They spent a leisurely morning together, just the two of them. Zoey had gone home to San Diego for a few days, and so they had the apartment to themselves. After breakfast they sat around the small Christmas tree and opened presents, then they called their families. Brooke’s mom had elected to go to Mexico with a recently widowed friend, and Brooke wasn’t ready to spend a major holiday with her dad.

After they hung up with Antonio’s family in Italy, they settled down to watch Christmas movies. When the third one
was over, Brooke rose and stretched. She’d been sitting too long. She grabbed the bowl of popcorn and headed to the kitchen.

Antonio followed with their glasses. “Have you had a good Christmas?” he asked.

“I have.” Brooke gave him a quick kiss, then opened the dishwasher and put the bowl and glasses inside. “Have you?”

“
Sì.
”

Brooke smiled and started the dishwasher. She rinsed out a rag and started wiping down the counters.

“The gallery’s pushing for an answer. They want me in Rome by March first.”

Brooke tossed the rag in the sink and stared at Antonio. “I thought they were willing to wait until after the wedding.”

He looked away. “This is my career we’re talking about. I’ve worked my whole life for this type of opportunity.”

“And I’ve worked my whole life for my career. A career that brought you and me together, I might add.”

Antonio leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “That’s not fair. Charlotte’s already offered to transfer you to Rome. If I stay here, I’ll never be the gallery’s top seller. They’ll find another artist, one who’s close by and easier to work with, and start promoting him. I won’t make it if we stay.”

But I won’t be happy if we move.