Miss Match (4 page)

Brooke’s hand stilled on her wrap. Zoey was impulsive enough to do just about anything. Brooke eyed the bright pink highlights in Zoey’s hair. “Like what?”

Zoey shrugged. “I don’t know. It’ll depend on how drunk everyone is.”

“Zoey . . .”

She sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

“Please don’t do anything that’ll end up in the papers tomorrow. I can’t keep an eye on Luke and you.”

“He’s here,” someone shouted. Reporters rushed forward, converging on the black limousine that had pulled up to the curb. A door opened, but that was all Brooke could see with the reporters swarming. Not that it mattered. She knew it was Luke.

“Mr. Ryder! Mr. Ryder!”

“C’mon, let’s wait for him inside,” Brooke said.

Zoey followed. “You don’t want to walk in with him?”

Brooke shook her head. “Too many cameras.”

“Oh.” Zoey’s surprise evaporated into annoyance. “Antonio. Right.”

Brooke nodded her thanks to the doorman, and they escaped inside the hotel. The doors swung shut, and the shouts of reporters were replaced with
O Holy Night
playing quietly through hidden speakers. A twelve-foot Christmas tree, covered in gold and red decorations, sparkled underneath the chandelier in the center of the hotel foyer.

Brooke and Zoey handed their wraps over at the coat check, then showed their invitations and were let into the opulent grand ballroom. Poinsettias sat in alcoves and on tables, and evergreen wreaths with gold and red Christmas balls hung from every window. A string quartet played holiday music on a raised platform, and tuxedoed waiters wandered through the crowd with trays of food. A banner proclaiming “Happy 30th Anniversary, Ryder Communications!” with the company’s logo hung on the far wall. She hoped it wouldn’t set Luke off.

A warm hand settled on her waist, and Brooke recognized the touch immediately. She shivered as lips brushed her cheek. “You look beautiful,” Luke said, his voice husky. His breath smelled strongly of spearmint mouthwash—a sure sign he’d been drinking.

Brooke quickly moved away. He got extra flirty when drunk, something she’d discovered the past month. But when she turned around, her breath caught. He’d gelled his caramel hair into an organized mess, a look she adored, and the cerulean blue of his eyes popped underneath the chandelier light. He’d shaved away the three days of growth, showing off his strong jaw line. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Mitch was at Luke’s side. Despite being almost thirty, at these events he always resembled a high school kid borrowing his dad’s tux for prom. He was lanky, all limbs, and had a perpetually youthful face. Brooke doubted he could even grow facial hair. His dark chocolate skin was nearly the same shade as the black tux, and his lips were turned down in the slightest frown. Brooke watched Zoey grin flirtatiously. Mitch’s eyes widened and he gulped.

What was that about? Did Zoey like Mitch?

Luke grinned, holding out his hand to Zoey. “Thank you both for coming.”

Brooke frowned, her focus returning to Luke. “You’re in a good mood.”

He gestured grandly to the ballroom. “Well this party is just so
fabulous.
We have so much to celebrate.”

Brooke’s stomach clenched. “You’re drunk.”

“I had one Scotch before coming here. There’s a difference.”

“I know this is hard,” Mitch said. “Just hold it together for a few hours, okay?”

Luke grunted. Brooke hoped that meant he planned on giving the speech without complaint. “Let’s go say hi to Mom,” he said.

“Of course.” Brooke pointed. “She was over there a minute ago.”

Karen saw them heading toward her and smiled. Brooke saw the relief in her expression. No doubt Karen had been as worried as Brooke that Luke wouldn’t show. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, and Brooke saw the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I know this is hard for you.”

“Of course, Mom.” Luke’s voice was gruff as he hugged her back. “I’m here to support you.”

Karen released Luke and hugged Brooke. “And thank
you.
I know you’re probably the reason he’s here.”

Brooke opened her mouth to respond, but didn’t know what to say. “The party’s beautiful.”

Karen nodded. “Rick would’ve loved it.”

“Karen.” An older woman with a beehive hairdo slipped an arm around Karen’s shoulders. She was one of the board members, but Brooke couldn’t remember her name. “How are you doing, honey? I’ve been thinking about you.”

Luke took Brooke’s hand and tugged her away. Karen gave a small wave of acknowledgment as they left.

“I can’t be around board members right now,” Luke muttered. Brooke knew things had been tense since he’d been appointed CEO days after Rick’s death. “I’m not in the mood to listen to a lecture on how I’m failing the company.”

“Things will get better,” Brooke tried to soothe.
If you’ll start showing up at the office.

And that’s when Brooke saw her. Candi. She walked into the ballroom in six-inch stilettos, her arm wrapped tightly around none other than Nathan Kendall, CEO of Kendall Home Systems. Her gold dress was slit nearly to her naval, and a full, sheer skirt left little to the imagination. She looked like part of the decorations.

And she was headed right toward them.

What is that vixen playing at?

Mitch had managed to engage Luke in a conversation about basketball. Brooke caught Zoey’s eye and motioned discreetly toward Candi and Nathan. Zoey turned, then whipped back around to Brooke, eyes wide.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Zoey?”

Brooke’s heart thudded in her chest. She didn’t know which would be worse for Luke—seeing Candi or seeing Nathan. Had Candi been playing Luke? There was no way it was a coincidence she was here with the competition.
There’s no such thing as coincidence, especially where she’s concerned.

“I’m fine,” Zoey said. “I . . . saw a former client. He and his fiancée called off the wedding and it’s a little awkward.”

Brooke stole a glance at Candi and Nathan. Candi had wrapped her arms so tightly around his bicep that she looked like an accessory to his tux. They were stopped a few feet away, chatting with an actress. What was Candi up to? Brooke could tell by looking at Candi and Nathan that the couple—if that’s what they were—wouldn’t last. The way they clung to each other spoke of lust, not love. If they were clients at Toujour, she’d be looking for new matches for both of them in a month.

Brooke took Luke by the arm, doing her best to make the action appear casual. “I love
this song. Dance with me?” She pulled Luke toward the dance floor.

“Catch up with you later,” Zoey called. Brooke looked back over her shoulder and saw Mitch already headed toward the pair, Zoey close on his heels. Zoey brushed her hand down Mitch’s arm. Okay, something was definitely up with the two of them.

Luke’s mouth twitched, completely oblivious to what was going on. “Is this supposed to be a Christmas song? I’ve never heard it. What’s it called?”

Brooke blushed. Why couldn’t the quartet have played
Deck the Halls
or
White Christmas
or something everyone knew? “Okay, I don’t know
the song. But I love the way the cello sounds.” There was a cello in a string quartet, right?

Luke allowed Brooke to lead him onto the dance floor. “When did you become a music expert?” He pulled her into the classic dance pose—one hand at her waist, the other holding hers. As Luke turned her in a slow circle, Brooke caught a glimpse of Mitch and Zoey talking to Nathan and Candi in the far corner of the room. For the moment, the risk had passed.

“We’re getting dangerously close to violating Rule #2,” Brooke teased. “We’ve been like this for way more than three seconds.”

Luke pulled her close. “I beg to differ. If both my arms were around your waist and both your arms were around my neck, then
maybe
we could consider this a hug. But this?” He held up their clasped hands. “We’re just dancing. And I’m certain you haven’t made a rule against that.”

Brooke laughed. Once upon a time, back in high school, Luke had wanted more than friendship from her. But she’d turned him down. She’d seen how Luke was in relationships, and she wasn’t willing to sacrifice their friendship for a fling. And that’s all Luke ever had—flings. It reminded her too much of her father. Thankfully, his feelings seemed to have quickly faded to friendship, and he’d never pushed the issue.

A camera flashed, and Brooke flinched. “If that shows up in the papers tomorrow . . .”

The music blessedly ended then. Luke sighed and pulled back. “You and Antonio are still fighting about the tabloid.” It wasn’t a question.

“Can you blame him?”

Luke rubbed his eyes. “I need a drink.”

“Your speech is coming up soon.”

“I don’t know if I can give my speech.” Luke’s jaw worked back and forth as he blinked.

“Do it for your dad.”

“Check, check, check,” a low voice echoed around the room. A hotel employee stood on the stage, handing a microphone over to Reginald Darius, chairman of the board of directors.

Brooke squeezed Luke’s hand. “It’s time.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

CHAPTER FIVE

Luke’s stomach buzzed with nerves
, and he clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. It would be okay. His father had helped him craft the perfect speech. All he had to do was read from the teleprompter.

“Welcome, friends,” Darius said, his voice shaking with age. He was short and slight, with a full head of brilliantly white hair. “I am so pleased you could join us tonight to celebrate thirty years of a fantastic company, and to honor a dear friend of mine, Rick.”

Luke clapped unenthusiastically. Brooke gave him a sympathetic smile.

“We had all hoped Rick could attend tonight. Unfortunately, he lost his battle with lung cancer a short month ago. But he’s with us in spirit. Tonight, on our thirtieth anniversary, I’m pleased to announce the Richard L. Ryder Lung Cancer Foundation.” A banner unfurled behind Darius with the foundation name emblazoned across it and a photo of Dad to the side.

Luke’s mouth dropped open in horror. No. They were supposed to make the announcement at a press conference in a week or two. He had a different speech he’d been preparing for that event.

“Tonight we have the privilege of hearing our new CEO, Luke, speak on his father’s behalf. Let’s give Luke a big round of applause and welcome him to the stage.”

“The bastard,” Luke whispered.

The crowd turned toward them, polite smiles on their faces as they clapped and waited expectantly. His eyes met Brooke’s. Her mouth formed a surprised “o” and her eyebrows arched above her beautiful blue eyes.

He wanted to run and hide. But instead he let go of her hand and walked toward the front of the room. He would kill Darius. Why hadn’t he told him they were making the announcement tonight? Heat crept up the back of Luke’s neck as he made his way to the stage, dodging women in high heels and waiters carrying trays. He tried to remember the speech he’d been working on for the press conference, but drew a blank.

The crowd’s claps died down. The distance to the stage grew with every step. Luke felt hundreds of eyes burning holes into his soul. He passed a group of society matrons in glitzy dresses, gossiping loudly.

Just waiting for me to mess up.
Crowds like this were always
waiting for someone to make a fool of themselves.

A woman eyed him like a lion eyes its prey. Luke ground his teeth together. The speech his father had helped him so carefully craft was all about Ryder Communications’ humble beginnings. It didn’t seem to fit the announcement of the foundation.

Luke took the microphone from Darius with a tight smile. It felt cold and heavy in his hand. He blinked, trying not to squint at the stage lights. “I’d like to thank you all for coming here today,” he said.
Great opening. Your father would be proud.
He cleared his throat. Glanced at the teleprompter.

He couldn’t give that speech. Not now.

“Dad was a great businessman, and an even better father. My earliest memories are of watching him invent. When I was in high school, I jokingly suggested a home automation system. But Dad wouldn’t let the idea go.” Luke clenched the microphone, willing away the sting in his eyes. “And now, eight years after that idea, look at what he created.” Luke thrust an arm toward the room at large. “He brought this company from a single-man operation to an international corporation. It wasn’t right that he should die so young. He didn’t deserve lung cancer. No one does. And Dad wanted to make sure that even after he was gone, he could still help find a cure.”

A spattering of polite claps filled the room, with a few enthusiastic “hear, hear’s.” Luke tried to remember what else he’d planned on saying, but his mind drew a blank. The teleprompter was stalled on the first line of his original speech.

Luke looked for Brooke’s bright blue eyes and reassuring smile among the crowd. Instead, he found his mother, Karen. She stood in the front of the room, close enough he could see the tears sparkling in her eyes under the light of the chandeliers. She wore a conservative black dress—one he recognized from the last company event they’d attended. The one just before Dad’s death. He was sure the papers would notice and comment on it.