Do You Take This Man (7)

“Excellent.” Gretchen motioned toward the elevator and glanced between Lear and me. “Shall we?”

It took every ounce of focus to not run a hand down my dress to make sure it was there. “I’m going to take the stairs, actually, getting my steps in and all,” I said, wondering if the words sounded as flustered to them as they did in my head. I was running calculations about how much it might screw me over with Gretchen if I continued to blow off the guy who was apparently the brother she never had.

Lear nodded, a smile on his lips. “I’ll call with the date for the ceremony, Ms. Brooks. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Stab, stab, stab. “Looking forward to it.”

I turned toward the stairs, fuming with each step that I’d probably have to work with this annoying jerk.

“Ms. Brooks!” His voice startled me, and I almost tripped as I stopped abruptly. He jogged toward me and, dammit, he looked good when he ran, his body held straight, well-developed shoulders filling out the shirt. “RJ.”

“Yes?”

Gretchen stood near the elevator across the lobby checking her phone, but I had a feeling if I held up two middle fingers dramatically in his face, she might look up at the wrong moment.

“Don’t forget your sandwich.” Lear held out his hand, winked, and I grabbed it, our fingers brushing for a moment and an unwelcome warm tingle radiating up my arm. “I’d hate for you to go hungry.” He smiled again—no, it wasn’t a smile. He smirked and then returned to Gretchen and the now-open elevator doors.

Shit.





Chapter 4


Lear





“HEY, TINA.” I shared a smile with my cousin’s assistant. “Penny around?”

She shook her head. “Hasn’t been in all morning. She wasn’t at the house?”

“She and Kelly went to Charleston to visit Kelly’s parents for the weekend. I thought she was planning to come straight here.” I glanced at my watch. Penny was usually in the office early on Tuesdays. “Thanks, T. I’ll just wait in her office and try her cell.” We were supposed to be meeting to talk through the next several months and create a working plan. Settling in the chair opposite Penny’s desk, I glanced around the office. The exposed brick and industrial look fit her, and black-and-white photos covered the walls. Penny had carved out a niche for herself as someone versatile by taking on small offbeat ceremonies and then, after making connections, earning the trust of people wanting larger, more elaborate events.

I hadn’t grown up with my cousin. She’d graduated high school a few months after Caitlin and I moved to Sybel following our parents’ death. But before she left for college, she’d given us the lay of the land, showed us how to navigate the deep political waters of a small-town high school, and she’d been right. I’d held tight to those reminders ever since.

         If no one sees what bothers you, no one can really mess with you.



     Be nice to everyone.



     If you can’t control it, roll with it.





It was ironic that that last bit of advice came from someone who grew up to be so in control of every detail that I sometimes thought she understood the world to bend at her insistence.

My sister had added a fourth: Date someone nice who doesn’t bring drama to your doorstep.

All four had been in the back of my head since then.

Photos of Penny and her wife lined the window ledge. The two of them together on trips around the world dotted the space. It had been the two of them for a long time. They’d been trying to adopt for years with no luck. Still, I wasn’t the third member of the household they planned on, and I ran through calculations in my head of when I could afford to get my own place and move out of their basement.

My phone buzzed on the desk, and I smiled as I flipped over the device. “Hey, loser.”

“Speak for yourself,” my sister said with a laugh. “How’s North Carolina treating you?” She’d moved to Southern California two years earlier to begin her residency.

“You know. It’s home,” I said, sitting back in the chair. “Need to stop in to see Uncle Harold still.”

She was biting back a comment about me not going to see him yet but, uncharacteristically, she didn’t say it, which was how I knew what her next question would be. “How you doing?”

I glanced out the window, planning to ignore her question. The same question she’d been asking me for months. “I’m fine.”

“Do better,” she said. There were muffled voices in the background that sounded like the coffee shop we used to frequent together. “All you’ve said is ‘fine’ for months.”

“Yeah, you’d think a doctor like yourself would be smart enough to take the hint.” I glanced at my watch again, wondering where the hell Penny was.

“I take hints very well. They’re often disconnected from what someone says out loud. Anyway, when have you ever known me to just let something go?”

“Not once in your life.”

“So . . . ?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re impossible.” The background noise changed as she stepped outside, and I immediately missed the incessant sunshine of LA, the noise and energy. Things were different in North Carolina—Southern hospitality, but I missed the shine and smiles, even the fake ones. Sarah popped into my mind, and my face shifted into a drawn expression. Her insistence on how happy she was. I shook my head, pushing the image away.