To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)(35)

“Because you moved here to join the Belles.”

“Yes,” Brooke said, tracing a nail around her cocktail napkin. “But the truth is, I didn’t have much of a choice after my own career went belly-up back in LA.”

“What happened?”

Brooke sipped her wine. “Let’s just say the biggest wedding job of my life—my own—ended up as front-page news after my fiancé was taken away in handcuffs.”

Maya’s eyes went huge. “Holy crap. I heard that story. Oh my gosh, I thought you looked familiar, but I totally did not put two and two together.” This time it was Maya who reached across the table. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

Brooke forced a smile. “Me too. But it’s not fair for me to let my own experiences with Clay taint your experiences with Neil.”

“Oh, Neil’s nothing like that,” Maya said automatically.

Well, of course you don’t think so, Brooke thought to herself with a surprising hint of bitterness. Nobody supposes their fiancé is anything other than what they want them to be.

“Does my brother know?” Maya asked curiously.

“No,” Brooke said quickly. “And I’d really appreciate it if you kept this between us girls.”

“Happy to,” Maya agreed. “Plus, it’ll be much more fun this way. You’ll be like a sexy puzzle he’ll want to solve himself.”

Brooke grunted in skepticism.

Maya laughed. “When are you seeing him next?”

Brooke glanced at her watch. “Tonight, actually. I’m supposed to meet him at his office at five thirty, and then we’re doing dinner.”

Maya wiggled her eyebrows. “And what about after dinner?”

“There is no after dinner. It’s a business meeting.”

“Poor Brooke,” Maya said, patting Brooke’s hand. “I don’t think you realize just how much trouble you’re in.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say when my brother wants something, he gets it. Always.”





Chapter Thirteen





IT WASN’T UNTIL BROOKE was a full eleven minutes late to their meeting that Seth had the uncomfortable realization that he didn’t have her phone number.

Here he’d been, obsessed for days with the prospect of seeing her again—of having her to himself—and he didn’t even know how to text her.

He glanced at the clock. Five forty-two.

She didn’t seem like the type to be late. Was she going to stand him up?

There was a brief knock at the door, and he sat up straight from where he’d been semi-slouched in his office chair, only to slump again when he saw that it wasn’t Brooke coming through the door.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you acting like you’re seventeen again?” his assistant asked as she strode into his office as though she owned the place. And sometimes it felt like she did. Etta Manza had salt-and-pepper hair, almond-shaped hazel eyes, and the build and personality of a linebacker. Seth didn’t know how old she was. He’d known her since he was a kid doing homework at her desk, and she’d always just seemed “sixty, give or take twenty years.” Neither did Seth know how his father had found her; God knew she wasn’t the clichéd prim and proper secretary of her day.

He’d never been more grateful than the Monday morning after the funeral when he’d wandered into the office feeling a little bit sad and a whole lot lost and seen Etta just sitting behind her desk, her red-rimmed eyes the only signal that something was different.

Then she’d made him a cup of strong black coffee, set it in front of him, and told him he had a conference call with the German office in ten.

They’d never talked about her staying on as his assistant; it had been a foregone conclusion. But she was more than that to him. It wouldn’t be quite right to describe Etta as a mother figure. She’d never be the type to make a warm cup of tea or homemade muffins. But she’d pour him a shot of whisky when he needed it. Listened when he didn’t even realize he needed to talk.

But right now, at this moment, Etta was absolutely not who he wanted to see.

“Have there been any calls this afternoon?” he asked, ignoring her question.

“No, none,” she said. “We’re one of the largest hotel chains on the planet, but no phone calls. No emails, either. I’ve just been playing spider solitaire all day.”

His glare was meant to show her exactly what he thought of her sarcasm, but Etta had always been one of the few people to remain unfazed by his moods, and she didn’t flinch.

“You going to answer my question?” she asked.

“What question?”

She crossed her arms and studied him. “You couldn’t get off your four o’clock fast enough. I rescheduled after-hours calls and canceled your business dinner with Pete Corella and his wife.”

“So?”

“So. You and Nadia back on?”

Nadia?

It took Seth a second to reorient his thoughts to his ex-girlfriend.

“No,” he said curtly. “Nadia and I are over. Who’s manning the phones?”

“Jared.”

“Who the hell is Jared?”