Touched by You

by Elle Wright

  The music faded and the chatter dimmed. Parker Sr. approached the podium, Patricia close to his side and . . . Sterling right behind him. Dread coated her insides as she watched the trio on the stage. What the hell is going on? When she met Parker’s concerned gaze across the room, she guessed he felt she same way.

  “Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” her father’s baritone voice greeted over the microphone. “I’m so glad that you’ve joined us tonight. We’re on target to meet our fundraising goal for such a worthwhile organization. But I hope you don’t mind me taking a few minutes to make an announcement and a toast. The servers will be around to make sure your glasses are filled.”

  With a smile, Brooklyn took the offered glass of champagne from a short server and waited for her father to speak again. Something told her that what was coming next was a game changer.

  With his glass held high, her father smiled and wrapped his arm around Sterling. “I’ve watched this young man grow into quite a remarkable young man, capable of greatness.”

  Brooklyn gulped down her champagne.

  “I want to congratulate him and my beautiful daughter on their engagement.”

  Brooklyn choked on the champagne and it sprayed out on the woman in front of her.

  “Congratulations, baby girl,” her father announced before turning to Sterling. “You will be a fine addition to the Wells family, son.”

  She glared at her father, standing in front of the crowded room with a satisfied Sterling. That son of a—

  “Brooklyn, come here,” her father commanded from the stage.

  Before she could stop herself, she shouted, “Hell, no!”

  Gasps from the crowd filled her ears as her gaze met her brother’s across the room. Parker started toward her, but she backed away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw appalled older women frowning at her. But she couldn’t care. She didn’t care.

  I have to get out of here. But her legs didn’t seem to want to work right. As she stumbled toward the door, as if she was stepping in quicksand, she tried to block out the loud whispers from the guests. Focused straight ahead, she finally took off at a sprint, intent on getting as far away as possible. Vaguely, she heard Parker calling her name, but if she stopped to look at him or speak to him, she’d never make it out of there.

  The cold, bitter temperatures smacked her in the face when she made it outside. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms. Glancing back to see if anyone followed her, she shuffled down the street. Her dress was long, her toes were bare, and the snow was coming down, but she had to keep going. To where, she didn’t know.

  Grabbing her phone, she tried to dial her friend Nicole. No answer. She typed a quick 911 text to her friend. Distracted, she started across the street. She heard the blaring horn before she saw the truck heading straight for her. She tried to run, but slipped and fell on her side. Opening her mouth to scream, she frantically searched for someone. The street was empty. Bracing herself for the impact, she prayed for mercy and forgiveness for being such a bitch sometimes.

  Only there was no pain. Instead she felt like she was wrapped in a warm, heavenly cocoon surrounded by trees and ginger and . . . Gain detergent? Was she in heaven?

  “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes popped open and she was met with beautiful, brown, unfamiliar ones staring back at her. Her mouth fell open when she realized that she wasn’t sitting at the Lord’s feet. She was still, in fact, outside in the brittle Michigan cold, lying underneath a stranger. She bucked up and the man stood to his full height.

  She peered up at him and back at his waiting hand. Sliding her hand into his, she let him pull her to her feet.

  “Are you okay?” he repeated, surveying her face with a worried expression. “You were . . . I thought that truck was going to . . . I picked you up and pulled you out of the way, but slipped on ice and we both went down.”

  “It’s . . . okay.” Suddenly, she felt warm again and it wasn’t because the man had taken his own coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders. She had a strong feeling it had something to do with the man himself standing before her. Brooklyn had never seen him before, but she was immediately intrigued by him. Maybe it was because he’d saved her life? Or maybe it was because he was fine as hell. Either way, she wanted to find out more about him.

  He swayed back and forth on his feet and scanned the immediate area. “Do you need me to call anyone?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  She shook her head and waved a hand in dismissal. “No, I’m just going to head over to my friend’s place. It’s right around the corner. I’m . . . I can’t thank you enough for saving my life. I thought for sure that truck was going to take me out.”

  “No worries.” His full lips held her attention as he asked her . . . Lord, she didn’t even hear what he’d said. Was it weird that she was focused on some strange man’s mouth after she’d barely escaped death?

  Shaking herself from her haze, she asked, “What did you say?”

  He chuckled. “Just that I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “I’m sure I have a few scrapes and bruises from the fall. But I feel okay.”

  “Good to hear,” he said, glancing at his watch.

  “Thanks again. I wasn’t paying attention. I was distracted,” she babbled on as she brushed the snow off her dress. “I don’t know what got into me. It’s just . . . I was trying to get as far away as I could, but I didn’t bring my coat, and Nicole didn’t answer her . . .” The rest of her sentence died on her lips when she looked up and realized she was talking to herself. The mystery man was gone.

  Chapter 3

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  Brooklyn sighed heavily. She’d listened to her father go on and on about how she’d embarrassed him in front of the entire town, made a mockery of the Wells name, and she was so close to telling him to go to hell.

  She scanned the massive home office, remembered how she used to run the halls searching for hiding spaces. More times than not, she’d find herself hidden behind the heavy curtains or beneath the oak desk in the center of the room. The house had been through many transformations—usually with the addition of a new wife—but the office hadn’t changed much. Brooklyn never knew why Senior had refused to update it. It still had the drab beige walls, wood paneling, and tall bookshelves. The same lamp stood in the corner, even though it hadn’t worked in fifteen years. Lining the walls were paintings of Wellspring in various stages, from the first building erected on the vast expanse of land to the huge corporation that it was now. In the middle was a huge oil painting of her great-grandfather, the founder of Wellspring Water.

  Wellspring Water was a top bottled water company worldwide, with several brands of spring water, mineral water, distilled water, sparkling and flavored water, and now iced teas. The company’s top brand, its namesake Wellspring Spring Water, was sourced from natural springs in and around the Wellspring area. The Wells family was powerful, with production sites in twenty countries. Water was big business, and worth billions of dollars, and Senior had made it his life’s mission to corner the market.

  Brooklyn hugged herself. As dark and cold as the space was, she wondered how it was ever comforting to her. When she was a small child, she’d loved to visit the office because it smelled like her dad. He was her world back then. No matter what was wrong, he’d always made it better. Her gaze passed over the large eleven-by-fourteen picture of his current wife, and she remembered why that had all changed. Sadness shot through her at the memory of her mother and her tragic death. Life was never the same after that cold day in November, right before Thanksgiving.

  Brooklyn couldn’t help but resent Senior for being her only surviving parent because he hadn’t acted like a loving parent during that time. Instead of supporting them through their mother’s death, he’d pushed them off on nannies. From the moment the casket was lowered into the ground, the loving father she’d cherished ceased to exist. In front of her was the man he’d be
come—cold, calculating, and distant.

  “Brooklyn!” he blared, startling her out of her thoughts.

  She looked up at her father, who was now standing, leaning over his desk. His hands were balled up into fists as he glared at her, almost like she was his enemy. It wasn’t the first time he’d made her feel like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. Things had changed between them a long time ago, and he was no longer her hero.

  She stood to her feet and yanked her purse off the desk. “Senior, I got it,” she hissed. “You’re disappointed in me for not marrying a man I can’t stand because that’s what you want me to do. You’ve basically farmed me out to the highest bidder.”

  “Watch your tone, Brooklyn,” he said between clenched teeth. It was the same tone he used to intimidate business rivals, which infuriated her even more.

  “No, you watch your tone,” she snapped. Brooklyn had no idea where all this false bravado was coming from, but she’d run with it even if her knees felt like they’d give out on her any minute. “You’d rather I forget every ambition, every hope for my life, as long as it suits Wellspring Water. And I’m not going to do it. I can’t do it.”

  “You will do what I tell you,” he ordered.

  She frowned, determined not to let a single tear fall. “Marrying Sterling would be hell on earth for me. Why can’t you see that?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We’ve already discussed this. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over. If you want to continue living in this house, off of my money, you will do as you’re told. Period.”

  Brooklyn thought about her father’s threat. Knowing Senior, he’d meant every word. It was further confirmation that their relationship would never be repaired. After her mother had died, she’d rebelled, tested him in everything she’d done, got into trouble several times. When he was fed up, he’d shipped her out of the state to a prominent boarding and day school in Wellesley, Massachusetts.

  A devastated Brooklyn had retreated into herself. Not only had she lost her mother, but her father had shipped her off like she was expendable, away from her brothers and Nicole. It was torture. But what he’d originally meant for punishment had turned out to be a blessing. Brooklyn slowly realized she loved it in the Boston area. She’d made wonderful friends, focused on her studies, and thrived away from Senior. She’d spent three years at her boarding school before her father yanked her out of the school to return home for no obvious reason other than he could.

  Because of her father’s ire, she’d been forced to finish high school in Wellspring. And even then, she hadn’t let him deter her. Brooklyn wanted to make a difference. She didn’t want to sit up on high and look down her nose at the people who needed help the most. She wanted to do the dirty work, the types of things no one else would do, and she would do that regardless of what her father said. If that meant she had to move out, so be it.

  Brooklyn never had any intention of staying with her father long-term anyway. The only reason she even lived in his house was because she’d been saving to purchase her own home. Staying in the family home had been a convenient way to stack her money, since her father still controlled her access to her trust fund.

  Still, it felt like her father had just backhanded her. The mere fact that he was threatening to throw her away if she didn’t marry Sterling wasn’t lost on her. And even though it wasn’t a surprise, it still stung because it had effectively destroyed the tiny thread of hope that her real dad was hiding somewhere in the man standing before her.

  Brooklyn gripped her clutch in her hand, closed her eyes tight. Damn that tear that slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away and turned on her heels. Stalking to the door, she swung it open. “Well, I guess I’m moving out,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Brooklyn walked into the same hotel she’d left the night before. This time, she had three suitcases full of clothes, a duffel bag, and her purse.

  “I don’t know why you decided to move out before you found a place to stay,” Nicole said with a sigh, shifting the garment bag from her left shoulder to her right.

  Brooklyn gave her best friend a side-eyed glance. “Shut it. I had no choice. I’m not marrying Sterling. I had to get the hell out of there.”

  Brooklyn and Nicole dragged her things to the front desk. After a few minutes, Nicole handed her the room key.

  “Thanks,” Brooklyn said, with a sad smile.

  Nicole nodded and started toward the elevator. Once they lugged her things to room 305, her friend turned to her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Without answering, Brooklyn opened the door and stepped into the suite.

  “Brooklyn, this is crazy. You can’t live here.”

  “I can, and I will. At least until I find a place.” Brooklyn pushed a suitcase into the closet and dropped the duffel bag on the bed.

  “Your father owns the hotel. I wouldn’t put it past him to have them kick you out. He’s done it before.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Brooklyn said, plopping down on the bed. She eyed her friend as she hung up the garment bag and walked over to stand in front of her. “Besides, that’s why we got the room in your name. Thank you, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome.” Nicole smoothed a hand over her auburn hair. “Hun, I know you’re upset, but I need you stop reacting and start planning.”

  Brooklyn rubbed her friend’s growing stomach. “Like you did?” she said, arching a brow at her very pregnant friend.

  “Hey, I planned to get married and have kids.” Her friend planted a hand on her hip as if she were upset. The gleam in her big, doe eyes told Brooklyn that she wasn’t mad at the dig. “Yes, the pregnancy came before the marriage, but the baby will be born to happily married parents.”

  Brooklyn smiled at the first friend she’d ever had. Nicole had been there for Brooklyn since she got glue stuck in her hair in Ms. Brown’s first-grade classroom. And she’d happily returned the favor when Kyle Wilson hit her friend in the head with a flying kickball. Brooklyn chuckled to herself as she remembered beating Kyle with her Trapper Keeper. Who knew, twenty years later, Kyle and Nicole would be married and expecting their first child.

  The road to marriage for Nicole and Kyle wasn’t easy though. Brooklyn remembered the panic that accompanied the positive pregnancy test only two months before Nicole’s planned wedding. Between Nicole’s erratic mood swings and her very religious family, Brooklyn had worried that her friend’s dream church wedding wouldn’t happen. It was Brooklyn that approached Pastor Locke, Nicole’s father, and begged him to allow the ceremony to go on. Her friend was the most beautiful bride she’d ever seen.

  “You’d better be happy. I’m sure I could find that old binder and smack the shit out of Kyle again.” The two lifelong friends laughed as they both fell back on the mattress. As Brooklyn peered up at the trace ceiling, she thought about what had just happened with her father. A lump formed in her throat and the tears finally fell unchecked.

  Nicole rolled over and pulled Brooklyn into her arms, rubbing her back gently. “It’s going to be okay, hun. You’ll see.”

  “I think I hate him,” she cried into her friend’s cashmere sweater. It wasn’t true, of course. She didn’t hate him, even though she wished she could, more often than not. “I’m not sure why I thought I could stay there and avoid him meddling in my life.” Brooklyn had chosen to stay in the pool house rather than the main house when she’d moved back home. It had been her failed attempt at a little privacy. “And despite how he’s treated me, Parker, and Bryson, I still find myself missing the father he was when I was a kid. Even though I know that man doesn’t exist anymore. To think, he’s willing to barter with my life for business . . . How could he do this to me?”

  “I don’t know.” Nicole’s voice was thick with emotion and Brooklyn didn’t need to see her friend’s face to know that she was crying with her.

  “It’s like he’s sellin
g cattle or something, like I’m just a means to an end to him. It’s always about Wellspring Water, never about me.”

  “Have you called Parker?”

  Shaking her head, Brooklyn said, “No. He’d just try to ride in on his horse and save me. He has too much to lose. I can’t involve him.”

  “I’m sure he wants to be involved. He loves you, Brooklyn.”

  “I know, but he’s positioning himself as Dad’s successor. If he aligns himself with me, it could ruin that. He’s worked so hard to gain his trust.”

  “Okay, well I’m here,” Nicole said. “I’ll stay with you tonight.”

  “No,” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “You’re a newlywed, Nic. And your due date is next month. Go home to your husband.”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t come stay with us.” Her friend squeezed her arm to get her attention. “We have plenty of room. I’d just hate it if your father pulled some stunt on you in the middle of the night.”

  Brooklyn knew Nicole had a reason to be worried. One holiday, Brooklyn had returned home for a visit and had promptly made an enemy out of Senior’s fourth wife. When wife number four had accused her of stealing a fur coat, her father had taken the lying woman’s side. Brooklyn couldn’t stand to be around that woman, so she’d booked a room at the hotel, only to be kicked out of her room on her father’s orders—at two o’clock in the morning, with subzero temperatures outside. Nicole and Kyle had come to get her and spent the whole night consoling her.

  “I’ll be fine,” Brooklyn assured her. “I’ll sleep it off and figure out what to do in the morning.”

  Her friend didn’t look convinced. “Okay, but I’m only a phone call away. I’ll come right over if you need me.”