Miss Match (25 page)

The realization hit like a ton of bricks.
I’m an idiot.
She had thought her hesitation was due to Toujour and the unexpected timing. But the reason she wouldn’t be happy in Italy would be because Luke wouldn’t be there.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Luke, who claimed to be in love with her. Luke, who had put forth his best foot on every Toujour date. Who was working twelve hour days to try to revive Ryder Communications. Who, now that she thought about it, didn’t drink anymore.

He’s changing.

“Brooke?”

She blinked, bringing Antonio and the black IKEA cabinets he stood in front of back into focus. “Do we have to talk about this today? It’s Christmas.”

“Time’s running out.”

She blew out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s talk about it.” She walked around the counter and to the square dining room table, with its four mismatched chairs. Eclectic, Zoey called them.

Brooke pulled back a chair, and Antonio did the same. She pushed the table centerpiece aside—a square glass vase with artificial lilies—so that it didn’t obstruct his face.

“Why don’t you want to move?” Antonio asked.

“Toujour is doing great right now. Our clientele is growing like crazy, and Charlotte said we’re finally in the black. How can I turn down my dream promotion to move to Italy? I might wait years before I can become head of the office there.” She felt like a liar for not admitting her true reservations. But not wanting to move away from Luke didn’t mean she wanted a relationship with him beyond what they already had.

“How can I tell the gallery I’m staying in Los Angeles for my wife’s job?”

The words were a sucker punch to the gut. “My job isn’t as important as yours,” Brooke said.

He fiddled with the flower arrangement. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“You said if I let you do this thing with Luke, you would consider Italy.”

Brooke spread her fingers wide on the table, pressing them into the smooth wood. Trying to keep herself from screaming. “Yeah,
consider
it. And I have. But my life is here. My parents. My half-siblings.”

“Luke.”

Brooke sucked in a breath and held it. “Yeah. And Luke.”

Antonio stood with a curse. “Once again you are putting your friendship with him first.”

“It’s not just him. It’s everything.” Brooke ran a hand through her hair. “You sprung this on me without warning. We had plans I was counting on. You can’t move up our timeline five years and expect me to grin and say ‘let’s do it.’ This is my home.”

“And Italy is mine.” He sat back down, this time next to her. “Just like your family is here, my family is there. My
genitori
. My
nonni
and
fratelli.
And now my job is there.” He rubbed the back of her neck with one hand.

She leaned forward, resting her head on the table. She closed her eyes as he slowly worked out the knots at the base of her skull. Seventy-one percent compatible. Luke was messing with her head, and she couldn’t let him. She and Antonio were meant for each other.

“The only thing not in Italy is you,” Antonio said.

His words sank in, and Brooke didn’t like what her head told her she must do. Antonio seemed to sense she was at the breaking point, because he kept talking.

“You will love Rome. We can do all the things we talked about . . . visit the sites, eat gelato. The studio will help us find housing and get settled. You can still work for Toujour. You’d probably even like it better there—Italians love a good matchmaker.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Brooke let out an involuntary laugh. “I probably even have cousins who would want to sign on as clients.”

“What about the wedding?”

He kissed her temple. “I’ve already promised we can get married here, in California. Planning will be more difficult from Italy, but not impossible. And we can take our honeymoon in Paris instead of Mexico.”

“That’s not fair.” Brooke gave him a teasing kiss. “You shouldn’t get to bribe me with Parisian honeymoons.”

“I want us to be happy. And I know we can be happy in Italy.”

Brooke played with Antonio’s hands, tracing the flecks of paint there. “I thought we were happy here.”

He flipped his hands so they were holding hers and squeezed. “We
are
happy,
mia dolcezza.
But we’ll be even happier there.”

“When do they want an answer by?”

“New Year’s.”

Brooke’s stomach tightened. “That’s only a week away.”

“I know. I can probably hold them off another week past that.”

She closed her eyes, trying to get used to the idea. Italy. She pictured a small apartment over a bakery. Holding hands as they perused a produce stand. Having Antonio’s parents over for Christmas Eve dinner. It was a nice picture, one she could get used to. Except Luke wouldn’t be there. No more seeing each other almost daily. Lives lived apart.

Antonio or Luke. She was going to have to pick one or the other.

Antonio brushed a curl out of his eyes, a grin touching the corners of his mouth. “C’mon, let’s watch another movie.”

She hoped she could live with her choice.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Brooke rubbed her eyes,
feeling the sting from staring too long at a computer screen.

Four first dates. In the last week, Luke had been on four first dates and no second dates. The press was eating it up, but they had started to speculate the reason Luke hadn’t made it to date number two was because of Brooke.

Brooke scrolled through the database again, trying to block out the noise of Lianna’s incessantly ringing phone at reception. She had to find someone Luke would like. She prayed she wouldn’t. Things were such a jumbled mess. She wanted to rewind time to before Luke confessed his love, before Rick’s cancer and death, when things had been easy and simple.

Do you want to rewind before Antonio, too?

No. Despite how hard Luke had tried to convince her otherwise, she was grateful to have Antonio in her life.

Zoey sank into her desk chair, a big grin on her face. “Lianna said she just entered forty new clients into the database.”

“Forty more this morning?”

Zoey nodded. “You’re a genius, Brooke. Our numbers are up nearly eight hundred percent since November. And it’s all thanks to your brilliant idea and Luke’s willingness to play along.”

Brooke rubbed her temples. “Great,” she said, voice flat.

Zoey frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Luke is what’s wrong. Again.” Brooke motioned to the computer screen. “Over three hundred women, and I can’t find one I think Luke will go on a second date with. If he doesn’t stick with one for a while soon, the press is going to think Toujour doesn’t work.”

“Run his profile against yours. I bet you’re a perfect match.”

Brooke glared. “Not funny.”

“Hit refresh.” Zoey spun around to face her own computer. “Maybe one of the new girls will be his fake match.”

“Haha.” But Brooke did as Zoey suggested and started going through the list of new women.

And that’s when she saw her. Andi, a socialite with wealthy parents and a law degree. She was beautiful, with dark blonde hair and tanned skin. Brooke clicked, opening up her hobbies. Tennis, spin classes, and old movies. There wasn’t a lot to go on yet, since Andi hadn’t completed the intake appointment and therefore hadn’t filled out her complete profile. But she looked promising.

“Looks like she’s been assigned to me,” Zoey said. Her face practically rested on Brooke’s shoulder.

Brooke jumped, putting a hand to her chest. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” Zoey looked unrepentant. Her arms were folded across her chest and she still peered over Brooke’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Yeah, she is your client,” Brooke said. “Looks like you have your first appointment scheduled with her today.”

“Want me to see if she’s interested in a date with Luke?”

No.
“Feel her out to see if she’d be a good match first, since we don’t have much to go on yet. But yeah.” Brooke’s gut told her Andi and Luke would get along very well.

“I’ll make sure to let her know it’s strictly for show and Luke is off limits.”

“Zoey!”

“What? He is. At least until you figure out what you’re going to do.”

“I’ve already figured out what I’m going to do,” Brooke said. “Talk to Andi.”

* * *

“I don’t know if I can do it, Mitch.” Luke ran the miniature rake through his tabletop Zen garden, creating abstract designs in the sand.

Mitch clapped Luke on the back in sympathy. “Another blind date?”

“Yeah.” Luke dropped the rake and ran a hand through his hair. “These dates are killing me.” Christmas had been bad enough, with uncharacteristically impersonal gifts exchanged between him and Brooke. And it had been a hard day without his father. He’d been on four first dates since the holidays, bringing his total up to six. Four dates in a week. It had been exhausting. The women had been nice enough, but none of them were Brooke.

“Who’s up this time?” Mitch asked. He grabbed two sodas from the mini fridge and slid one across the desk to Luke. The sunlight streaming in from the window glinted off the aluminum can, momentarily blinding him.

Luke popped the top and took a swig, blinking to clear his vision. “Her name’s Andi. She’s a lawyer from a socialite family. Brooke seems confident.” His shoulders hunched. He didn’t want Brooke to be confident. He wanted her to set him up with horrible women she knew he would hate and never want a relationship with.

But it hadn’t happened. There was nothing really wrong with any of the girls. They just weren’t the girl for him.

“Where’s the date this time?” Mitch asked.

Luke made a face. “Ice skating. It’s supposed to be romantic or some crap like that.” He motioned to the stack of blueprints in front of him. “Tell the Talia Team I’ve signed off on these and they can get to work running the final test cycles tomorrow. We’re already a week behind schedule, and we can’t delay the relaunch any longer.”

Mitch nodded, making a note on his tablet. “I’ll do that before I leave tonight.”

“Thanks.” Luke rose, slipping into his coat. “I still need to go home and change. If I don’t leave now I’ll be late, and Brooke will hate that.”

Ice skating. Honestly, what was Brooke thinking? The whole thing was a little too romantic.

“See if you can beat your last date record of two hours,” Mitch said with a smirk. “I’ve got ice cold sodas at my place and the game if you can.”

“You got it.”

An hour later, Luke parked his car and walked into the skating rink. The temperature dropped ten degrees as soon as he walked inside, and he buttoned his coat to ward off the chill. He should’ve brought gloves. The smell of nachos wafted over from the snack stand, and he inhaled sharply. They’d definitely need to get some of those tonight.

The floor squeaked as his soles rubbed across it with each step. It was a strange plastic material with raised dots, probably so you could safely walk on it in ice skates.

His eyes swept past the skate rental counter and snack bar, searching for Andi. He found her leaning against the white ticket counter in the center of the room. The nicely tanned skin and honey blonde hair unmistakably matched the picture Brooke had shown him. A red scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck. The man behind the desk was grinning as Andi laughed.

So she was a natural flirt. Then why wasn’t she already in a relationship? Luke pulled out his phone and checked the picture again, just to make sure. Yup, it was her.

Andi looked up as though sensing his presence. She grinned, said something to the man, and walked toward Luke.

“Hi,” she said, her voice still bubbling with laughter. She stuck out a hand in an oddly formal gesture. “I’m Andi.”

Luke took the hand uncertainly. “Luke.” He motioned to the counter. “Shall we get our tickets and skates?”

“Sure.” Andi fell into step beside him. “I really hate first dates, don’t you?”

Luke’s eyebrow hitched. This was new.

The man behind the counter glared at Luke, seeming to realize Andi was there for him.

“Two tickets,” Luke said. The jilted employee quickly completed the transaction, stamping their hands so they’d be admitted to the rink.

“First dates are so awkward and uncomfortable,” Andi continued as soon as they moved away from the ticket counter. “Agonizingly painful experiences, and you’ve had some real doozies lately. At least according to the press. I was thinking, let’s pretend we’re not on a date. Let’s pretend we’re friends. Sound good?”

“Sounds great, actually,” Luke said. But he couldn’t stop the suspicion from crowding in on him.

They picked up their ice skates and found an unoccupied bench. They sat down and unlaced their shoes.

“So what brings you to Toujour?” Luke asked. It had become his standard question when the conversation lagged.