Sweet in Love (9 page)

“I see.”

“She asked me about your age, and I told her you were three years younger, then she said that was really equal to five years younger because men are supposedly less mature than women.” Brooke’s voice gained a bit of volume and heat.

“Whatever.” Pete made some soothing noises, unsure exactly what had gotten her so agitated. She’d been saying all along that their age difference, along with the fact that he was Amandine’s brother, was a problem.

“I hated it that she said that,” Brooke continued. “How would she know you’re a typical guy? How does she even know what a typical guy is? The old prune probably never even dated anyone except her husband.”

“I thought my age was one of the issues for you,” he said carefully.

“It’s not the same thing. She has no right to talk about you that way. You’re a hell of a lot more mature than any of my exes, and none of them were younger than me.”

Warmth spread from his heart all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. “So you …defended me?”

“Hell yeah. I put the Korean bitch-slap on her.”

“That’s hot.” He gazed at her with new appreciation. “Oh, and thanks.”

“Aaaaahhhhh.” She made fists with her hands on the table and rested her forehead on them. “Now I can never go back to church,” she said into her placemat.

“The Brooke I know wouldn’t be this upset about speaking her mind.”

“The Brooke you know is not the Brooke who goes to church. It’s a cultural thing. You can’t talk back to your elders, you know what I’m saying? It makes my parents look bad, and my dad being a widower and all, people will say he’s raised me all wrong.” She sighed. “He’ll be so disappointed if he hears about it from one of the uncles.”

Their beers showed up, and Pete took a draught. “You might be surprised,” he said. “He’s not totally immersed in the super conservative Korean culture, right? I mean, he’s not even Korean.”

She said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“If that lady is as bad as you say, she’d probably find a way to bring you down no matter who you date. But who cares? She’s not your mom, and you don’t have to see her ever again.”

She raised her head and looked at the table. “You ordered two beers?”

“No. This one’s yours.”

“Oh.” She took a tentative sip. “Hey, this isn’t bad.”

“‘Not bad’? It’s
great
.”

“I’m not much of a beer drinker. But I like this one.” Suddenly her brow creased. “I don’t even remember ordering this.”

“Uh, you ordered the same thing I did…”

“Oh crap.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll like it.” He smiled. “I happen to have great taste.” Especially in women. And he was lucky the one he adored seemed to like him back.

Defended him against the Lead Hag.

Maybe that meant she no longer cared about their age difference. Okay, so she was still a bit worried about how Amandine might react to their relationship, but he was optimistic about that as well—his sister was an incurable romantic at heart, and wouldn’t stand in their way.

He might not have worried after all. How could Brooke not reciprocate at least a little bit when his heart felt like it would explode with love every time he thought of her, looked at her, heard her voice or felt her touch?

It wasn’t a charitable thought, but he was glad Amandine and Gavin had experienced marital troubles. Without their relationship teetering on the edge, he might not have gotten the push he needed to go for it. He’d kept telling himself
a little more time
,
a little more time
. Hell, he’d been planning to wait another year before asking Brooke out. What a colossal waste that would have been.

After lunch, he dropped her off at her apartment—she insisted on changing out of the funereal black—and drove to Amandine’s place. Gavin was out of town this weekend to have yet another meeting with his brother Ethan about the family business, which still seemed to be in a bit of trouble.

Luna took him to Amandine’s studio. Normally she’d be perched on her stool, but the humble wooden seat was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was half-buried in a plushy armchair in front of a still-in-progress painting, her work shirt and shorts covered with old paint stains that nothing could remove.

Amandine’s face lit up, and she waved. “Hey.”

“Hey, you. How’s my nephew?”

Her free hand flew to her belly. “He’s doing great, thanks. My work stool’s behind those canvases.” She gestured to his right. “Take it.”

He pulled it out and sat. It had little butt support and nothing for the back. No wonder she wasn’t using it anymore. She could spend hours and hours in the studio, working.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, putting down her brush.

“What, I can’t visit my sister just because?”

“You’re busy, and I know you’re currently seeing someone.”

“You do?” Had Brooke broken the news already?

“Yeah. You have that look that says you’re romancing somebody right now.”

“Ha.”

“You’re my brother. It’s not that difficult to tell.”

“Well…as it happens, you’re right.”

“I knew it! Okay, who? Tell me about her.”

“Brooke.”

Amandine’s facial muscles slowly slackened. “Brooke? You mean, my Brooke?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god.” Amandine stared at him for a few moments, blinking. “I thought she seemed distracted, but I figured it was the extra work she had to do for the nursery. How…? When…?”

“It goes all the way back to high school.”

“You’ve been dating since
high school!?
”

“Well, no. But, uh, there was this one time…” Pete took her through the story.

“Oh my god, my baby brother.” Amandine’s eyes widened as she connected the dots. “So
that’s
why you were so worried about leaving L.A.”

“Yeah,” Pete said, resisting the impulse to hang his head. “Sorry I was so selfish. But I couldn’t think of anything except the fact that all my plans would be ruined.” He hooked his feet on the stool’s rungs. “I was going to grow up, become a successful man who could provide for her, then ask her out and sweep her off her feet. My nine-year plan.”

“Why nine?”

“I didn’t think I could do it in eight, and a decade just seemed like too long.”

She laughed. “Okay. So when you thought I was divorcing Gavin and you might lose your job over it, you panicked.”

“Basically. But it wasn’t anybody’s fault but my own that I was in the situation. I should’ve been confident enough to make my move earlier.”

“Well…maybe you were overcompensating.”

“Overcompensating? For what?”

“Um…Dad?” Amandine cleared her throat. “I’ve thought about what you said. And you were right.”

Pete raised a surprised eyebrow. His older sister was a firm believer of their father’s good intentions. If nothing else, it was true that he’d loved his wife, so that made his irresponsible ways forgivable.

“If he’d wanted to own his love for us, he would’ve tried harder to provide for the family, instead of relying on in-law charity. Saying ‘I love you’ was great, but it wasn’t enough.”

Pete nodded, absorbing this, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Then he said, “Brooke’s kind of worried about your reaction.”

“To what?”

“The whole ‘us dating’ thing.”

She frowned. “What? Why?”

“Well, you know. It’s a little awkward for her, what with me being her best friend’s younger brother and all.”

“Oh, whatever. It’s none of my business, but if you guys care about how I feel, I say go for it. Who am I to judge so long as it’s what you want?”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Just be careful, Pete. Brooke doesn’t do long-term dating.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that impression. I’m working on it.”

* * *

Brooke and Pete arrived a little late to the dinner, thanks to a minor fender-bender that had congested the road. Seriously, people who drove without paying attention shouldn’t be allowed on the streets, Brooke thought. It made life harder for everyone.

Sandy’s house had several cars parked out in front. All the lights on the first level were on.

Brooke and Pete went in. Sandy popped her head out of the kitchen and said, “Hi, guys. Brooke, can you help me in here?”

“Sure. Just let me introduce Pete to everyone.”

Brooke took him to the living room where her father and his friends sat on two big, worn sofas. Sandy’s toddler girl was with the guests, flirting outrageously with them for attention. Her dad was in the center of the group, his arms spread along the back of the sofa. Gray highlighted his short, cropped hair, but the festive mood erased years from him. Brooke went over and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Dad.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“You remember Pete? Amandine’s brother?” she said.

“’Course I remember! Long time, no see,” he said, sticking his hand out.

Pete took it firmly. “Good to see you again, sir.”

Her father moved over, making some room. “Grab something to drink and come sit down. We’ve got beer and wine. If you want, there’s some Coke too, I think.”

Brooke left Pete and went into the kitchen. Sandy glanced over the counter at the men and said, “Looks like everything’s fine out there.”

“Yeah.” Brooke looked at the mountain of food. White plates covered every inch of the kitchen table, each one holding a different type of Korean or Italian dish. One had a pile of her father’s favorite soft green rice cakes; each one, she knew, was filled with sweet honey that would ooze out after the first bite. Another had glass noodles, the spicy garlic aroma making her mouth water. Still another held barbecue marinated beef; another had some sort of twisty pasta.

“Wow. Did you make all this?”

“Are you high? I catered the whole thing except for the pasta,” Sandy said. “No time to cook a bunch of stuff—you know how things are with the business. I needed a new bookkeeper like two months ago, but can’t find anybody decent.”

“What about Eugene?”

Sandy snorted. “He’s even worse at it than I am. So I’m stuck until I can hire somebody new.

Brooke and Sandy laid everything out on the dining room table, including a birthday cake. Everyone abandoned the couches for the dining room. Brooke looked at her father’s face over the lit candles. He was already sixty-four.

He’d spent over fifteen years alone as a widower, never having had time to meet somebody new after his wife had passed away. He’d been too busy working and providing for his two daughters. And never once in all those years had he complained about being lonely or tired of his responsibilities or anything. He’d taken on the burden of dealing with Sandy and Brooke’s grief over losing their mother. Their grandmother had helped out, but Brooke knew how much her dad had sacrificed for them.

When the song ended, he blew out the candles. Everyone clapped. Brooke followed suit, blinking away sudden tears.

Dad
,
I love you
.

Everyone started eating and serving food, including the cake. The older generation didn’t believe in saving sweets for last.

“When you’re my age, you know you better take what you want when you want it,” her father said, helping himself to another serving of beef and cake while shunning the vegetables. “Clock’s a-tickin’.”

“So Pete, what do you do?” one of the men asked.

“I’m an investment manager.” When he got a slightly puzzled look, he said, “I invest for other people and manage their money.”

“Retirement funds?”

“That’s one of my areas.”

The older folks leaned closer. “Go on,” Brooke’s father said, when Pete didn’t elaborate.

“Dad, I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk about work on a Sunday,” Brooke said.

“It’s okay.” Pete said. “Basically, there are things that we…”

While Pete spoke about his job, Brooke and Sandy finished their food and started taking the dirty plates to the dishwasher.

“Let them grill Pete for a bit,” Sandy said. “I’m sure they’re interested in what he has to say about investment options and whatnot. They’re anxious about their retirements.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t bring him here for that.”

“He’ll let you know if he wants you to rescue him.” Sandy glanced up from wiping the counter. “It looks like he’s enjoying himself. He seems to fit right in.”

Brooke nodded. The older men didn’t treat Pete like a kid, even though her father had known him since he was a high school boy.

It was surprising how right Pete’s presence felt in her life. With her exes, it had felt wrong, like trying to wear someone else’s glasses.

“By the way, I’m sorry about the scene at the church. I hope things don’t get awkward for you,” Brooke said.

“Ha. Don’t. I don’t believe in mouthing off, but that old bat deserved it. Every time I see her, I feel like there’s this big” —she made a fist— “suffocating lump stuck in my chest. But after you put her in her place, it vanished. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers and grinned. “It felt great.”

“So this is where you two are hiding.”

Brooke turned around and smiled. “Dad.”

“Hey, little girl.” He came into the kitchen and hugged her. “You’re so quiet today. Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Happy birthday.”

“Think I’m gonna go out for a smoke. Wanna join me?” he asked.

“Uh… I didn’t know you’d started back again,” Brooke said uncertainly.

“Come on anyway.”

They went out to the deck together. The sky was now deep purple. Her father reached into his pants pocket and pulled out an old and wrinkled pack of cigarettes. He looked down and fingered the lone stick. “I saved this after your mother died.”

Brooke looked at him with surprise.

“She wanted me to quit, said it was bad for my health. But I didn’t, not until after the accident. I wish I’d done it sooner, so she could know while she was still alive.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. She was right, but it seemed too much of a change. Besides, what if I wanted to cheat, you know? Smoke when I felt stressed… I liked things the way they were. Just didn’t want the bother.”

“Even if it would’ve been better for you?”