by Lee, Nadia
“You’re right. What am I doing, complaining about something this minor?”
Brooke smiled. “You’re being pregnant.” She pulled out a thick binder with some ideas that she’d worked on earlier in the morning. “Anyway, take a look through here and let me know if you see anything you like.”
“Wow, that was quick. Thanks,” Amandine said, flipping it open.
“Well, you know. I try to be efficient.” Brooke had been thinking of various design motifs and ideas for years and jotting them down, compiling scrapbooks that she kept under her bed. She still wasn’t sure why she’d done that when she’d never been certain she’d be able to become a designer. But she wasn’t about to complain about how useful it was that she had all those ideas and pictures and so on to pull design schemes from.
While Amandine looked through the binder, Brooke texted Pete.
We can’t meet tonight, she started typing. Busy.
A few moments later, her phone buzzed.
You gotta be kidding me. There’s no way Amandine’s keeping you busy.
Brooke narrowed her eyes. I’m not just her assistant anymore, remember? I’m doing her nursery right now, and there’s lots of work to do.
But not really enough to cancel. A small guilty knot started to form in her stomach. She was being a jerk. Pete had been straight up with her, not to mention nice as hell, and here she was acting like one of those guys who ran off as soon as he got to sleep with a girl.
She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t she just be slightly less mean and more caring?
Sighing, she erased the previous lines and started over: If you really want to come, come on. But you might want to bring some work. She stared at the screen, then added, And food. Anything except Italian.
She hit send…and hoped she’d made the right decision.
Chapter Nine
SINCE BROOKE HADN’T COMMITTED to moving in with him, Pete had apparently decided to take the matter into his own hands. The next few days turned into an interesting observation of watching a very determined “never take no for an answer” man slowly hijack her place.
They settled into a pattern. He’d come back from work, they’d eat—whether home-cooked or takeout—and work for an hour or so, then make love and fall asleep.
The third morning, she found a couple of fresh business outfits—of the male variety—in her closet.
Huh. When had he put them there?
“I like that crimson dress,” he commented as he pulled a shirt off its hanger. “Hurry or you’re going to be late for work.”
“Wouldn’t have to hurry if you hadn’t commandeered the shower—with me in it,” she half-grumbled under her breath, though she couldn’t suppress a smile. Morning quickies were so worth it.
“At least you have an understanding boss.” He kissed her on the mouth while simultaneously stepping into his shoes and knotting his tie. “See you this evening. Gotta run or Gavin will have my head and a few other choice body parts on a platter.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” She gave his butt a squeeze and waved him out the door.
Pete was totally different from what she’d imagined. She’d always thought he would just cruise through life since he was so smart. Mr. Stanford and all. But he worked hard every day. She’d assumed he’d try to get her to have sex even when she needed to work, but he never did that. He respected the demands of her professional life even if they happened to be tasks related to decorating his nephew’s nursery. It was refreshing—most of her dates hadn’t thought her job meant anything—and it warmed her to know he valued her for something beyond the physical.
Later that evening, when he closed his laptop and pushed it to the side of the dining table, she leaned over and asked, “Are you really finished?”
“For today. There’ll be more tomorrow, of course.”
“You work a lot harder than I expected. I always thought you chose your job for money.”
“People burn out if they’re just in it for the money.” Pete munched on a leftover carrot stick. “I’m proud of what I do. It’s rewarding to help my clients.”
“You mean like Mark Pryce, who has millions of dollars in a trust?” she teased.
“Well, yeah, okay. But he’s not the only one. I have regular folks depending on me to help manage their retirement funds. And you know, that’s important. I don’t want them to have to scrimp during their golden years because I didn’t do my best.” Pete slathered the last bite of carrot with ranch dip. “How about you? You enjoying the interior designer work so far?”
“Yes, thankyouverymuch. It’s actually better than I imagined.” She searched for the right word. “Fulfilling.”
“If you still feel that way after you finish the nursery and the office, you should go for it. You know, as a full-time thing.”
“I don’t know. It’s not going to be easy in this economy.”
Pete blew air out dismissively. “Eh, the economy. Building a business is never easy.”
“But how am I going to get hired? Most places require you to have some kind of training, and my résumé is, like, blank when it comes to that.”
“Well, then start a company. Don’t wait for somebody’s go-ahead.”
“Where am I going to get a loan?”
“From a bank?”
She laughed. “They won’t give me a penny. I’m not hot like…Apple or something.”
“Apple wasn’t hot until it became Apple.”
“But—”
“Tell you what. I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
“Fund your company.”
“Pete!”
He spread his hands. “What? I have the money. Why shouldn’t I?”
“I can’t take your money.”
“That’s good, because I’m not giving it to you. I’m making a loan, to the company you’re going to start. It’s a business decision.”
She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t funny. I don’t want to owe you like that.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t you help a friend if you could?”
“Yes, but this is different. Stop being obtuse.”
“Brooke, it’s not different. Look, I know it’s a risk to take on a loan and go for something uncertain when you have a secure job. But if it’s something you really care about, you have to put yourself out there a hundred percent. Heart and soul.” He looked at her across the dining table. “Unless, of course, you’re sure that you’ll never wonder what might have been if you’d been just a little bit braver.”
“You’re awfully sure, Mister Guy With A Secure Job,” she said, but Pete’s words had struck a chord. Wouldn’t she wonder for the rest of her life that she could’ve made her secret dream come true if she hadn’t been such a chicken?
But what about the way Pete thought of his father? She knew how much he despised his father for being a failure. It was easy for him to encourage her now; their relationship was new, and he wanted to win her over somehow. But things would change. He might not be so interested once he realized how similar her wanting to be an interior designer was to his father’s unfulfilled dreams. He was a man who hadn’t cared about anything except living his ambition, and his family had paid the price—from evictions and having to rely on charity from their snotty relatives to social ostracism.
Brooke wasn’t going to put anyone out on the street by trying to become an interior designer, but what would Pete think about her if for whatever reason she couldn’t make it work? Would he put her in the same category as his loser father?
She’d heard enough from Amandine to know this would be a deal breaker for Pete.
Brooke shook herself mentally. Why did she care about things that might not happen for years down the road? And this long-term thinking she kept having about Pete… It wasn’t like her. She should just enjoy the moment.
And I know a pretty good way to do that. She reached across the table and wrapped his silk tie around her hand. He looked at her, his eyes changing.
She got up, came over and straddled him in the chair, then kissed him deeply. He parted his lips and let her steal a taste of him, then pushed in with his tongue, aggressive and sure of himself.
She pressed herself against his body, pulling him until they were as close as they could be. His five o’clock shadow scraped her delicate skin, and she shivered at the rough, masculine texture.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. She broke the kiss and looked up.
“Ignore it,” he murmured, running his mouth along her jaw.
“But—”
“Probably some door-to-door sales guy snuck in.”
A female voice came from the hall. “Brooke? I know you’re in there.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s my sister.”
She jumped off his lap and went to the door, finger-brushing her hair. Sandy wouldn’t miss much.
“Shouldn’t you have used the intercom first?” Brooke asked, opening the door.
“Can’t. It’s broken.” Sandy grinned shamelessly. “And hey, thanks for the warm welcome. Good to see you too.”
She took off her sneakers and marched inside. She wore a pale pink shirt with the flooring company logo and a pair of old blue jeans that were worn and ripped at the knees.
She stopped suddenly as her eyes zeroed in on Pete. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I didn’t know Brooke had company,” Sandy’s voice took on a honeyed melodious tone that made Brooke cringe.
“It’s Pete,” Brooke said briskly. “Pete, meet my sister, Sandy.”
He nodded. “We’ve met before.”
“We have?” Sandy looked at Pete up and down, probably taking in his features and comparing them to all of Brooke’s boyfriends she’d managed to meet, which was a total of maybe six. “Nooo, I don’t believe so. I would’ve remembered.”
Brooke sighed. “It’s Pete Monroe. Amandine’s younger brother.”
“Oh my gosh, that Pete?” Sandy’s dark eyes widened. “Seriously? You’re so…big!”
He gave her a friendly smile.
“I had no idea you were still in L.A. I thought you went to work for some really famous bank in New York. Goldreich Stanley or something.”
“I decided to stay close to my sister.”
“Really? That’s so sweet. So what do you do?”
Oh jeez. Here comes the interrogation. “Sandy,” Brooke said quickly, “I’m sure you had a reason for coming over…?”
“Oh yes. Sorry, just got a little distracted.” Sandy took another long look at Pete, then said to Brooke, “Don’t forget church and the family dinner this Sunday. I’ve been trying to call, but could only reach the voice mail, and you’re so bad about returning my calls.”
Only when you try to drag me into another matchmaking scheme. “What dinner?”
“Dad’s birthday? I mentioned it to you a few weeks ago?”
“Ah, yeah…” To be honest, the only thing Brooke remembered about her father’s birthday was that Sandy had decided to take care of it.
“He wants a big family dinner, so we’re hosting it at our place. Sunday at six thirty.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
Sandy turned to Pete and gave him her sweetest smile. “You’re welcome to come too if you want. I’m sure Dad would love to see you again.”
“So would I. He was always so nice to me and my sister.”
Brooke frowned. “I thought it was supposed to be a family dinner.”
“Looks like Pete’s practically family already.” With that parting remark and a broad wink, Sandy walked out, closing the door and leaving Brooke speechless.
“She looks like she’s doing well,” Pete observed.
Brooke glared at the door. “She didn’t even ask if you were busy.”
“I can manage.”
“Don’t feel like you have to. It’s your weekend.”
“And I’d love to spend part of it with your folks. Your father was more of a dad to me than mine ever was.”
“You really didn’t like him, did you?”
“Norman?” Pete barked a laugh. “He was irresponsible and a total failure.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him? He was just following his dreams.”
“Geez, you sound like Amandine. But then you guys are tight. Listen, Dad’s only dream was to avoid having any responsibilities. He never wanted to do anything unpleasant or hard. His grand vision of life was to have lots of money—without having to work for it. He always used us—his family—to justify his ridiculous schemes. ‘I want to provide for my family.’ ‘I love my family.’ Yada yada. But whenever he had an opportunity for a job that would actually pay him enough to get us a place of our own or anything, there’d always be some reason for him to turn it down. Especially if there was some ‘get rich quick’ scheme presenting itself instead. Trust me. That’s not a dream. That’s being entitled and lazy.”
Brooke processed it. Amandine always spoke of Norman like he had been the most loving and amazing father ever. It was interesting to get Pete’s perspective on it, and why he despised his father so much.
“Anyway, forget about my dad,” he said. “I’d much rather get back to doing this.”
He came forward and kissed her until she couldn’t remember what they’d been discussing. Then he carried her to bed, licking her earlobe along the way, making her shiver.
She let him undress her, then undress himself. Maybe she should worry about how easy it was to have him in her life, like he was the most natural thing ever.
He kissed her body all over, his warm hands wrapped greedily around her curves. It didn’t matter that they had slept together every night since their first time. Electric pleasure danced across her skin, and every breath she drew seemed to be filled with exquisite sweetness.
She wrapped her hand around his thickness. He was hard and throbbing. A low groan lodged deep in his throat as he closed his eyes and savored what her fingers were doing to him. The tip of his cock was slick with need, and she parted her thighs, desperate to have him inside her.
He surged into her, and as her inner muscles clenched around him, she couldn’t help but think that maybe this was how intimacy was meant to be, how her life should be, and the fact that Pete was her best friend’s younger brother was just an asterisk in their relationship, nothing more.
* * *
“You know you don’t have to come to the service,” Brooke said one more time as she ran between her bedroom, closet and bathroom like the proverbial headless yardbird. “You aren’t going to understand a word. It’s all in Korean.”
“I don’t mind.” He’d just fantasize about her and wait for lightning to strike him down.
“Hah. You say that now.” She eyed Pete as he put a mini-tablet into his jacket pocket. “And you can’t play with your gadget during the sermon. The Hags will complain.”
“The Hags?”
“Old ladies who have nothing to do except spy on everyone and gossip and complain. They’re awful. You can’t even sneeze in church without them talking about it.”
He raised his right hand, palm forward. “I won’t embarrass you, I promise.”
She looked skeptical. “I think it’s better if you stay here and chill, then meet me at Sandy’s later.”
“And leave you for some enterprising single doctor or lawyer to steal away? Fat chance.”
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“Of course I care. I didn’t wait eight years just to lose you to some physician with a guilt complex. Just let me be the chest-pounding caveman who guards his woman, okay?”
Her eyes widened a bit, then she turned to the mirror and busied herself with her hair. It was growing out some, but still fairly short. Pete had never thought he’d like short hair on a woman, but he loved hers. Actually there was nothing about her that he didn’t adore.
She dabbed some floral perfume on her wrists. “Ready?”
“Waitin’ on you, baby.”
Brooke wore a black dress. Surprising, since he didn’t think she owned anything that wasn’t riotously colorful. The last time he’d seen her in black was when she’d lost her mother in high school, thanks to a drugged out driver who thought he was hot shit because of some movie deal he’d signed. He’d had the gall to claim innocence, blaming Brooke’s mother for the accident, then he’d finally tried to weasel out of going to court by offering money, like it could ever be enough to make up for Brooke and her family’s loss. Karmic justice had ensured the movie had failed spectacularly, and the loser vanished without a trace.
The somber dress seemed to mute her personality somehow, and she was quiet during their drive to church. He’d insisted on taking his car; the competitive and possessive side of him wanted those single doctors and lawyers to see that he was more than qualified to be with Brooke.
The church was a large red brick building with thin vertical windows and a giant steeple. He parked in the shadow of the cross and helped her out, smoothing the folds of his Armani suit jacket, making sure everything looked good. Brooke had said she didn’t go to church regularly, but her sister and brother-in-law did.
You never get a second chance to make a first impression.
The experience at the church was interesting, especially given that it was his first time at any religious establishment. Many of the older people there didn’t speak English all that well, though they did their best to welcome him. He was offered coffee five times before the service, all by different people. Several people spoke to Brooke in rapid Korean, and she responded in the same language, her voice low and polite. She bowed to almost all the older men and women, so when she introduced him to a few people, he did the same.
The service was about an hour long. The only thing he understood were the frequent amens that peppered the sermon. None of the rumored single doctors or lawyers came sniffing around.
While the minister droned on, Pete mentally went over all the things he needed to do in the coming week. He had way too many meetings scheduled, and there was a business trip at the end of the following month. Which reminded him… He should schedule a two-week long vacation to Tahiti or something before Amandine had her baby. Brooke would enjoy the water, and everybody loved Tahiti.