Miss Match (29 page)

Brooke looked down. “And if they aren’t the real thing, what will happen when they break up? For Toujour, I mean.”

“Nothing. Couples get together. They break up.” She leaned forward. “And this is strictly between the two of us, but I have another celebrity who has approached me all on his own about signing with Toujour. This guy really wants to find someone.” Charlotte straightened her pencils on her desk. “If you were to date Luke, Brooke, I wouldn’t be overly worried about the effect it would have on Toujour.”

Brooke’s head whipped up. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve been a matchmaker for twenty-one years. I know what love looks like.”

Brooke opened her mouth to protest, but Charlotte waved a hand. “I’ve got work I can’t put off any longer. And if you change your mind, the promotion here is still on the table.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Brooke glanced around the conference room
at Toujour. It teemed with employees, all laughing and talking as they drank wine and enjoyed finger foods. A banner reading “congratulations” hung on one wall with balloons underneath it. But the focal point of the room was the cover of
Allure
magazine. A picture of Charlotte graced the front, with the headline, “Matchmaker Revolutionizes Love with Toujour.”

A national magazine. And Toujour was in it. This on the heels of a popular movie star signing with the company, all of his own accord. Andi and Luke’s relationship was still going strong in the press, but the actor’s signing had started to draw the spotlight away from them. Brooke had a feeling that if they did break up, things would be okay.

But would they break up?

She glanced over at Luke, standing in the corner of the room with Andi. Their heads were close together, both of them laughing. They seemed to be getting along really well.

Charlotte came over to Brooke, a satisfied smile on her face. “The party is great. Thanks for taking care of it. What’s that saying? This party is the best thing since sliced cake.”

Brooke hid a smile. “I was happy to do it. I’m so relieved Toujour won’t have to close.”

“You and me both.” Charlotte let out a sigh. “I wish I could persuade you to stay.”

Brooke swallowed hard. The Rome office would be so different from here—nearly fifty matchmakers instead of ten, not to mention the culture shock she’d be experiencing. “I need to go,” she said.

“Where’s your fiancé? I would think Antonio would want to celebrate this with you.”

“He’s painting. He’s falling behind on his deadline.” And they’d had a huge argument last night about some stupid wedding detail. She frowned. Ever since he returned from Italy, they’d never seemed to get back in sync with each other.

Charlotte gave Brooke a sideways glance. “That’s too bad. Well, I’d better get this party started.” She walked to the head of the conference table and tapped on her wine glass.

Zoey sidled up next to Brooke. “Looks like we’ll make rent next month after all,” she whispered.

“Thank you all for being here today,” Charlotte said in her heavily accented French. “Two months ago, I thought something like this would be impossible. We owe it all to Brooke and Luke.” She lifted her glass, her gaze meaningful. “To Brooke and Luke.”

Brooke and Luke.
Brooke forced a smile and raised her own glass, taking a small sip along with everyone else. Their names had always been linked together. It was never Brooke and Antonio. It was Brooke and Luke.

“Speech,” Zoey called. Brooke swatted her.

“Yes, we should have a speech.” Charlotte turned to Luke. “The ceiling is yours.”

“The floor,” Lianna corrected, and everyone laughed.

Luke stepped away from Andi and took Charlotte’s spot. He cleared his throat. “What can I say? If not for Toujour, I wouldn’t be standing in this room right now, with the love of my life.” His eyes locked onto Brooke’s, drawing her in. “Toujour gave me my life back. It gave me a reason to fight, a reason to become a better man. For that I will always be grateful.” He raised his glass. “To love.”

“To love,” everyone echoed. Luke walked back to Andi, who offered him a smile. And that’s when Brooke saw it—friendship. She saw what she would’ve seen a long time ago, if she hadn’t been so close to the situation.

There was no love for Luke in Andi’s eyes, or in his for her. Only friendship and a mutual respect. Luke really wasn’t into Andi.

And I really love Luke.

Zoey playfully shoved Brooke. “Your turn,” she said.

Brooke nodded, walking to the front of the room. She glanced out over the crowd. “I want to thank Charlotte for going along with my crazy idea, and Luke for agreeing to it.” Through the glass of the conference room wall, she could just make out the corner of the cork board in the front lobby, covered in wedding invitations.
I don’t want to go to Italy,
she realized.
I want to stay right here, forever.
Luke smiled at Brooke, and her heart melted.
I want to give Luke a chance. I believe in our eighty-three percent.

The realization took her breath away.

Zoey nodded her head encouragingly. Brooke cleared her throat. “I believe in matchmaking, and I believe it works. I’m glad we’re finally proving that to everyone. Ten couples have put their files on hold this week after finding love. If not for Luke, those couples never would’ve met each other.” She lifted her glass. “To many happy years, and many happy couples.”

“Hear, hear!” one of the other matchmakers cheered. The room broke up into pleasant chatter, and Brooke made her way back to Luke.

He reached forward and gave her a hug. She savored the feel of his arms around her, melting into him. “I’m glad it worked,” he said.

“Me too.” Brooke pulled away, focusing on Andi. “And thank you, Andi. You’re a big part of this too.”

Andi smiled. She glanced around, then leaned forward so only Luke and Brooke could hear. “I’m ready for the charade to be over.” She gave Luke a teasing wink. “Think we can break up soon?”

Brooke blinked. Was Andi joking or serious?

“Sure,” Luke said. He nudged Andi with his shoulder. “I was kind of getting sick of you anyway.”

Brooke had refused to see it for weeks. She could move to Italy with Antonio. They could get married. And they would be happy, mostly. But it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to stay here with Luke, in California. She wanted to be head of the Los Angeles office.

She wanted him.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yes,” Brooke gasped. She shook her head as though to clear it. She’d been such an idiot all these years. Luke wasn’t her father. He was worth the risk.

She had to break up with Antonio. She couldn’t believe she was even considering it. But it wasn’t fair to either of them. She loved Antonio. But she loved Luke more.

“I have to go,” Brooke murmured.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Looks like the party might continue for a while still.”

“I know. Can I come over later tonight?” She swallowed. “We can talk.”

“Sure,” Luke said, his eyes softening with hope. “Can I . . . help you with anything?”

“No, thanks. There’s something I need to do, and I’ve gotta do it on my own.”

She gave Zoey a reassuring wave and left the room, her footsteps determined. She wasn’t being fair to anyone by continuing to force something that wasn’t right. It was time to give Antonio back his ring, and take a risk with Luke.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Brooke trudged up the stairs
to Antonio’s top floor apartment for the last time. She paused at his door, staring at it for a long moment. Their entire relationship flashed through her mind—meeting him in the club on their first official date, where they’d danced the night away and he’d made her feel like an Italian princess. Shyly admitting to him she was ready to put her file with Toujour on hold and be exclusive. The proposal. All the million little moments, both good and bad, that together added up to a life. A relationship. A future that would never be. There would be so much to do after she walked out of that apartment—a venue to cancel, gifts to return, a wedding dress to sell. Was it worth it? Was Luke worth it?

She remembered his teasing grin the first day they’d met. The easy way he’d accepted her ridiculous rules for their friendship. Lying on the hood of his truck, looking at stars on warm summer nights. The way her skin burst into flame when he casually brushed his fingers over her arm. The sting of her hand as she slapped his cheek, realizing he’d loved her for years. The blinding fear that something would happen, and she’d lose him for good. The heat in his gaze when he locked eyes with her, trying to reassure her he was in it for the long haul.

Was Luke worth this risk?
Yes.

She took a deep breath. “Just get it over with,” she whispered, and knocked. She waited for the patter of Antonio’s feet, but heard nothing but silence inside. Brooke knocked again.

Nothing.

Maybe he’s out on a walk. Or is in the restroom.
She stood there for a moment, debating what to do. She should leave and come back later.

But then she might lose her nerve. Breaking Antonio’s heart wouldn’t be easy.

Brooke raised her hand and knocked again. She heard a few footsteps, then the door opened. “Brooke.” Antonio was dressed in paint-splattered jeans and a white T-shirt, lifted to expose a strip of his belly.

“Hey,” Brooke said. She shifted from foot to foot. He looked adorable, with his mussed hair and sleepy eyes. “Did I wake you?”

“Just taking a quick nap.” He didn’t open the door to invite her in. “What’s wrong? I thought you were at the party.”

Brooke took a deep breath. Maybe it would be easier to do it here, do it now. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Her eyes stung with tears, and she looked down, blinking quickly.

You can still back out. You don’t have to do this.

But she did.

“Antonio, I can’t marry you.”

He let out a strangled growl. “What?”

“Antonio?” The voice came from inside the apartment, and was definitely feminine.

Antonio’s eyes grew wide with panic. He glanced inside the apartment.

Something clicked in Brooke’s head. The midday sleepy eyes. The door he’d kept half-closed since opening it.

“Do you have a woman in there?” Brooke whispered.

Antonio’s eyes flew back to hers. “Just a model. For a painting.”

Brooke pushed Antonio aside, entering the apartment. Sunlight streamed through the windows, setting the place aglow. There, in the middle of the room surrounded by drop cloths, stood an easel. And on the easel set a painting. But not a landscape.

A portrait of a nude woman. Lying on his couch. Antonio’s favorite gray scarf draped over her legs but covering nothing.

Brooke whirled on Antonio. “Who is she?
Where
is she?”
When did he start doing nudes?
She felt sick. Violated.

“Antonio?” the sleepy voice asked again. It came from above. The loft. A blonde head appeared at the top of the ladder. She was completely naked. The woman let out a shriek and stepped back.

Brooke stood there, taking it all in. The woman had been in his bed.

He’s cheating on me.
She couldn’t absorb it.
He’s cheating on me!
And she had worried about feeling things for Luke. Meanwhile, Antonio was sleeping with someone else.

Brooke picked up the red stiletto near her foot and threw it at Antonio.

“It’s not what you think,” he said.

“You’re cheating on me,” Brooke said. She let out a disbelieving gasp. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

The woman appeared at the top of the ladder, this time dressed. “I thought she was at a party,” the woman spat.

“Jeanette, I think you should go.” Antonio reached for Brooke, his eyes desperate.

She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Jeanette scampered past, sending both of them a heated glare. The door shut with a bang.

“It isn’t what you think—” Antonio began again.

Brooke folded her arms, the sting of betrayal slicing across her heart. “And what do you think I think?”

He sighed. “Jeanette’s a model. I’ve been painting her.”

“Yeah, I saw.”

“For the gallery, Brooke. She came over for a session early this morning. I was still upset about our fight. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He reached for her again, but Brooke swatted his hand away.

“No. You can’t talk your way out of this one.” She held a hand to her forehead, cheeks heating in humiliation. “I’m such an idiot. The earring was hers, wasn’t it? You were with her in San Diego.” She leaned over, heaving. She was going to be sick.

“I met her in San Diego. But I swear, nothing happened until today. I felt you pulling away and panicked.”

Brooke looked deep into his eyes—the eyes she had planned on spending the rest of her life with. Bile rose in her throat, and she struggled to keep it down. “I came here to call off the wedding. To tell you that Luke . . .” She swallowed. “I haven’t been completely upfront with you. He wants to see if we can make it work. But I’ve been putting him off. Because of you. Because of my commitment to us. And then today, I realized that I do
love him, and I’m not being fair to you. And I came here, before I allowed anything to happen with Luke. How could you do this to me?”