by Amber Scott
“Elliott?”
His eyes met hers. Her with his name on her lips—she’d remembered it. Her face. Glowing. A flit of revelation there—more than revelation. Expectancy? Every last articulate thought escaped his head.
Chapter Six
Talk about exactly perfect timing! Millie’s luck was finally changing! She’d have clapped her hands and hopped for joy except Brooke and Jason might raise an eyebrow or four. She settled for a little pivoting and shoe examining instead. Oh, if AJ could see her now. She’d unveiled Brooke not five minutes before they’d stepped out into the mall. And right smack into Jason’s path. She didn’t know how AJ had swung it but, man, she owed him. Huge time.
Plus, Brooke looked capital A amazing. Carlos, the genius, had shaped her hair to frame her heart face, bangs to shorten her forehead. Chloe, too, with those rose hues on Brooke’s eyes. They brought the muddy brown pop to a sweet brandy amber. Unshaved legs? Like Jason would notice with the scooped line of the dress begging the eyes to rove over her collarbone. Jason was standing too close, anyway. Soon to be sitting across from Brooke in a romantic, dimly lit restaurant, his previous plans vetoed.
Plans forgotten might be too much to hope for. But changed? Completely doable. AJ hadn’t gotten much info, but he’d been certain, Jason’s dinner looked like business. A lawyer. Not a female lawyer, either. At most, an old chums dinner; at least, a business meeting. The way Millie figured, Jason would either ask Brooke to join them or ditch the lawyer altogether.
She’d bet Kiki’s favorite Prada bag on the latter. Brooke looked that good.
Just to be safe, AJ had already secured Millie and Brooke a reservation within two tables of Jason’s. But this, this, was beautiful luck. Rather than making her excuses and leaving at dinner, Millie could just hand Brooke over and be home in time for True Hollywood Story.
Jason was totally tongue-tied, too. Excellent. He should be. Mental note, leave huge tip for salon staff. Jason shouldn’t need to be re-smitten but, hey, the past was the past. Given such superb circumstances, Millie was positive she could get these two back together. Back to the place they were in that photo. No. Better. Closer. More in love than either ever thought possible. Hollywood stuff, at its best.
Millie nearly patted her own back right there. One night, candles, music, love. She could almost see Brooke dressed in white. That smile back on her face. Millie finally rid of one of her cupid’s handcuffs.
“Elliott?” Brooke half gasped.
Millie’s wedding waltz screeched a beat. Elliott? Millie rose to her tiptoes to see past Jason’s broad chest. But the guy was too f-ing tall. Elliott who? What had Brooke’s attention just pirouetted to?
Jason stepped out of the way. A twenty-something guy stood staring at Brooke. Looking struck, like the world had sucked off into outer space. Millie’s spirits crashed mid-soar. Who the hell was he? Better yet, why the hell was Brooke agog, grasping for words?
Oh no. Brooke wasn’t the only one grasping. Jason seemed at a loss for words, too. Spectacular. Millie choked down the urge to knock him over the head and order him to do something.
“So, Jason.” Millie clapped his shoulder, perhaps a tad too roughly. “It’s so nice to finally, officially meet you. I’m Millie.”
“Sure,” Jason said, his gaze staggering to hers. “Yes. Nice to meet you.”
Please let her be imagining this. Jason offered Millie his hand but his gaze ping-ponged between his ex-wife and this Elliott person. Did he sense it, too? This guy thieving their moment?
“Brooke?” the guy said.
Brooke flushed with color, apparently remembering how to speak. “What are you doing here?” Not so much her audience, though.
He shrugged and stepped closer. His mouth made an “oh”, but no sound came out. Panic burned up Millie’s throat. This was not part of the plan. Whoever this guy was, he was mutilating one very carefully orchestrated strategy. Timing meant everything. Jason had been about to fall splendidly back in love with his ex-wife.
Elliott had to go. Now.
Millie crossed the circle their four bodies made. “Hi there.”
Elliott unhinged his stare from Brooke and looked at Millie. “Hello,” he said, his voice strange sounding. Like he hadn’t noticed her there. Or Jason. Or anyone else in the friggin’ place, for that matter.
Ridiculous.
So, he knew Brooke. And Brooke knew him. No biggie. Right?
“I’m Millie.” She jutted her hand out. “Elliott, is it?”
He hesitated then shook her hand. “Good to meet you.”
Millie lowered her lashes and leaned in. “You look really familiar,” she said, brushing a thread from his shoulder. “Where do I know you from?”
She didn’t need to look to know Jason had seen his opportunity. Millie could feel him turn, interrupting Brooke’s line of sight to Elliott. Good boy. Now all Millie had to do was keep it that way. Interrupted.
Elliott cocked his head a little oddly. “I don’t know. U.N.R. , maybe?”
Okay. So Millie wasn’t five-eight and traffic-stopping anymore. She wasn’t about to give up. “Hmmm. That’s weird. I wonder why you seem familiar. We haven’t met and Brooke has never mentioned you.” She paused, one ear trained on Brooke behind them. If Jason would just say something.
Elliott stiffened. His hands sank deeper into his pockets. “No?”
“And I’m pretty certain she’d tell me about someone like you.”
He shrugged one shoulder but she could see she’d gotten to him.
“Maybe she’s been keeping you secret. Everybody has secrets, I suppose, though.” Her favorite line from back in the day. Men had been a cinch as Kiki. She tilted her head and drew closer. “Don’t you?”
Maybe the wrong line or the wrong guy. Elliott narrowed his gaze on her, suspicion bright. That line had brought millionaires—married, single, even gay—to their knees. Elliott only walked past her and she didn’t have to see to know that Jason—if he could make it any worse—backed out of the way. He actually moved out of Elliott’s way! It didn’t take a body language expert to tell her Jason’s spark for his former flame had just been snuffed out.
Millie suppressed a scream. She should have brought AJ. One chemically enhanced concoction from AJ in the right direction and lust would ooze into Jason’s every pore. Smack into Brooke. He’d be cock-blocking anything testosterone within a twenty foot radius. That’s what Millie got for determining she could handle this on her own. For thinking her over-dependency on him was the reason none of these stupid bracelets had fallen off.
Crap.
Nothing else to do. She couldn’t risk attempting a potion of her own. Not after Tucson. Millie moved after Elliott. Some man barreled past and knocked Millie off her feet. With a small shriek, she landed smack onto her ass.
“Oh, no!” The man stopped, horror contorting his features as he bent to help her up, unaware of her three companions now peering over his shoulder. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. I swear, I’m like a bull in a china shop sometimes.”
“I’m fine,” Millie gritted out, accepting his outstretched hand.
He helped her up, his eyes begging for reassurance. She wasn’t about to give it. Scurry along now, shop away, or whatever men did in a mall. He wasn’t tall but he could stock a shipyard with those shoulders. No wonder she’d landed on her butt.
“Are you alright, Millie?” Brooke sounded relieved but also distracted. Not good. The reason for her distraction peered down, right next to Brooke.
“I’m fine. Accidents happen. Right?” Millie tried her coldest eyebrow arch. He just stood there, hands out like she might fall again. “Thanks, but I’m alright. Goodbye now.”
He nodded. But his body turned, followed rather than walked.
“Gordon,” Elliott said to him. “There you are.”
“Gordon?” Jason said as well.
Mr. Clumsy smiled. “Jason. Hi.”
Wait a minute. Jason knew thi
s ox? Great. Just flipping great. Another distraction to ruin sparks and magic and all that mojo love junk.
Millie’s mind raced. Jason knew the ox who knew Elliott who knew Brooke. What the…? “You two know each other?” Millie really needed AJ right now. If only she could snap her fingers to have him appear. Getting Brooke to go through with something like this was a one time shot. Millie wouldn’t get another.
An awkward silence spread over the group. And everyone seemed in on some secret. Some happy little secret that had each of them fidgeting, shifting weight and avoiding eye contact.
“Yes,” said Jason, while Gordon nodded, while Elliott glanced to Brooke, who was staring at him.
What was going on here? Better yet, how did she get in on it and back to her excellent plan?
“Small world! How, exactly?” Millie said, forcing a smile to her lips despite how thin it felt. She only cared about Brooke’s answer, but at this point, anyone’s would do.
“Jason is my realtor,” Gordon said but it sounded like a question.
“That’s right. I am.” Jason offered Gordon a rather relieved smile.
“And Gordon is my cousin,” Elliott said after no one else spoke for a moment.
“Really?” Jason asked and immediately shook Elliott’s hand. “Great to meet you. I think I’ve heard all about you. Elliott, is it?”
“Yes.” Gordon and Elliott in unison.
Why weren’t Elliott and Gordon going on their way? Millie wanted to shout out, “Wrap it up, gentlemen. I’ve got a lady to parade here.” Instead Millie cleared her throat and sent Brooke a meaningful look. Brooke however, only appeared confused. Nervous as hell, too, face splotching up and all.
Abort! Abort! “Well, don’t let us keep any of you,” Millie said at last and hooked arms with Brooke. “We have places to be.”
One thing about men, they like the upper hand. Two decent looking women walking away would prick any ego, wouldn’t it? Just let it prick the right ego. Three paces. By five, Jason had better be trying to get Brooke’s attention back. The other two could pound sand for all she cared. Come on now. Last ditch. Not any one of them?
Not a single word.
If this ploy didn’t work, she was back to the drawing board. The only other idea on the drawing board was operation surprise party. A long shot. Brooke would hate it. Really and truly. Brooke would walk in, and run for the bathroom. Might even pee herself.
So, onward they walked. No man stopped them. Millie glanced back, ignoring the itch in her brain saying she’d just missed something in that little dynamic. Besides utter failure, she had no idea what it might be. A glance back showed Gordon and Elliott chatting with Jason, who was not wistfully searching out his made-over ex. Elliott sent Millie a small wave then crossed his arms and reverted his attention to the other men.
“Millie?” Brooke’s voice shook. “I don’t think I can handle any more surprises today.” She stopped and took Millie’s hand. “I know you probably have more planned, but, I just really want to go home and have a hot bath and…no more surprises today. Is that alright with you?”
There went dinner, her last, slim hope. Ah, who was she fooling? If Elliott had just left, or the other guy hadn’t bumped into her, dinner would have been a perfectly natural next step. Now, it would be desperate and obvious at best.
“Of course. Don’t worry.” Millie had no way to re-interest Jason. With her luck, Jason would invite Elliott and Gordon along, too. No thanks. “I’m all out of surprises so, yes, go home. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at The Book Exchange.”
Brooke scrunched her chin up. “Are you sure? I feel bad.”
“Don’t! I just wanted you to have a good time. You know, get pampered, relax. Figures the ex would show up and ruin it all, right?” Yeah, so, a little fishing couldn’t hurt. Right?
“Jason? Oh no. He’s fine. It was actually nice to see him. He looked good, don’t you think? Happy. Well, not that you’ve seen him before.”
“Nope. Can’t say that I have.” On paper didn’t count. But she would see him. Soon. Definitely soon. “He looked happy enough. He certainly couldn’t take his eyes off of you.” One tiny exaggeration. Not much.
Brooke gave her a sidelong glance and shrugged one shoulder. Didn’t flattery get you everywhere? But then, this was Brooke. Unflappable, serene, no need for love to validate her, Munkle.
Millie unclenched her hands. They exited the mall into the darkened parking lot. No wind tonight. Just biting November cold. A quick goodbye, lots of thanks and you’re welcomes later, Millie watched Brooke drive away. Her grand scheme had failed, thanks to Tweedle Gee and Tweedle Glasses. But, she would prevail. Love would triumph. Whatever that meant. It had to. Otherwise, so long, AJ, and good luck, Brooke.
In the meantime, how on earth could she get those two together again?
Chapter Seven
Brooke smacked her lips. Steam rose off the bath water in tendrils. Lavender and chamomile enveloped her senses. Complimented the tart wine. She rolled another sip in her mouth, over her tongue. The scene at the mall replayed over and over. Her, blindfolded. Him, approaching. Elliott.
How had he found her?
Brooke frowned at Sampson on his toilet seat perch. “Just who does this guy think he is, popping up all over the place?” Looking all young and hot and…and what else, she didn’t know. Something. Delicious, maybe.
Sampson grunt-meowed, typically unimpressed. Brooke wiped a wet lock of hair from her cheek and sighed. Water dripped from her legs and toes. The heat and the alcohol soaked a nice numbness into her limbs. No such luck on her mind.
“And how long had he stood there watching Millie lead me around like a blindfolded idiot? And why whisper against my neck like that? To amuse himself? To screw with me? I mean, you gotta wonder.” Sampson blinked. She dropped her head back. “Or not.”
In a city like Reno, life didn’t have six degrees of separation. More like two. Running into your hairdresser at the grocery store, your mailman at the new bar, wasn’t out of place. Divorce taught her that quickly. Nowadays, she expected it.
Discovering Elliott was more than just a guy with some guts and romance even made sense in this smaller world. But seeing him tonight, right there in the middle of Jason and Millie put him outside of degrees. Suddenly, he became much closer. Her inner circle.
He shouldn’t even be on her mind in the first place. Every time she tried to drag her thoughts away, though, they boomeranged back.
The warmth of new embarrassment washed over her. What had he thought when he saw her? She’d totally tripped over her tongue. Completely lost her cool. But how could she not when each time she saw him, he looked better? It wasn’t as though there was a puzzle to figure out, though. He was at the mall. So what? At the same time she was. No big deal. Moments after she’d been transformed. And exactly when she ran into her ex.
“Coincidence. That’s all.” Nothing more. Sure, he had mesmerizing eyes and a smile that sent her stomach in somersaults. Yes, she wondered how delicious his full mouth might taste. “I’m making too big a deal out of this.”
Sampson blinked, as though to say, “Why yes m’dear, you are.”
All of it together was no more than simple coincidence. Yet her mind kept trying to make it more. Over and again. Like it had dropped some missing thread that would sew it all up to make sense. She couldn’t name why. The drive home, sitting around, in the bath. She turned the moments over, examining the nuances. With every lift and look, each time, he became more. More present. More there. In her life. As though he’d been there the whole time and she only now noticed.
Destiny?
Brooke snorted, startling Sampson. He meowed and readjusted.
When she stopped skipping and twirling down fantasy lane, and blessed logic took her by the hand, none of it fit. Correction. Didn’t need to make sense. How could he possibly be there this whole time when he was at least ten years younger than her anyhow. “Wait a minute. Only ten years?” sh
e asked Sampson. But her cat had closed his eyes.
No. Had to be more than ten because ten didn’t sound all that bad.
Fantastical or not, the inexplicable feeling of destiny, of a crossroads, clung to her, making her uneasy and eager all at once. If they’d been alone, what would she have said to him? Would she have lingered, flirted, waited for him to pursue her again? Would she have given him a chance?
No. Impossible.
But he had looked so good. And those eyes. She could die in those eyes. The way they looked at her, into her. They’d made her forget where she was. Who she was.
Even now, her tummy trembled just thinking about it. If she could explain it all, somehow, maybe then he wouldn’t be so compelling. Maybe she could think straight. She thought of those books. Of his hands proffering them to her. Of the mischief in his grin. An imp’s grin. She envisioned him grading her paper. Smiling. Shaking his head, no. Paper not good enough. She wanted it to be good enough. Beyond a basic, competitive, teacher’s pet drive to improve, to shine. This ran far worse. Brooke wanted him to like her words. She wanted him to nod in agreement, to highlight passages, to rub the cleft in his chin.
Cleft? When had she noticed that?
“Sheesh, Brooke,” she said aloud. “Get over it! He’s too young. Much, much too young.” This was star student syndrome on steroids. She had to get him off her mind. But how? Brooke groaned. She wiped her face. All that make-up hadn’t been easy to wash off, but now her skin could breathe. The water was getting cold and her toes and fingers were wrinkled up. She straightened her legs out. Had he noticed they weren’t shaved? Well, they were now. They would be tomorrow. At the Book Exchange.
Tomorrow! Of course. He would be there. Wouldn’t he? Sloshing water, Brooke sat up. With an offended yowl, Sampson left the bathroom.
Come to think of it, had he been there before? Maybe. Either way, if he were smart, he’d show up, hoping to catch her there. Another chance to chase her. He had to be enjoying the pursuit.