Page 30 of Words of Love
“Anyway, I texted him a message, he texted back, we met for real drinks…and had this amazing, explosive beginning.” A pink flush colored Brooke’s cheeks. “I knew early on I wanted to be in it for the long haul, which was my first mistake. I wasn’t naive…at least, I didn’t think I was, but I was still adjusting to life in New York and trying to prove myself atThe Times.
“I guess I was trying very hard to see only the things I wanted to see. And Michael was everything I’d wanted. Handsome, confident, charming, you name it. He worked for an advertising company, but he wanted to branch out and start his own company, be his own boss.
“His energy and drive were hard to resist. Not that I wanted to. He was so good at bolstering me up, convincing me that everyone had a rough time at first and my job would get better. He’d do these lovely things to make my life easier—bring takeout when I had a deadline, which was all the time, show up at my cubicle with my favorite coffee, take me to the airport, send me flowers and care packages. It didn’t take long for me to fall head over heels. We were together for almost a year. I thought we were heading toward marriage.”
Sam’s back teeth snapped together. “What happened?”
“He cheated on me in a big way. I found out when he told me he was going to ask another woman to marry him.”
He bolted upright, bracing his hand on a pillow. “He was gettingengaged? What a fucking asshole.”
“Agreed.” She twisted her mouth. “He assured me hewasn’tdating her when we first met, as if that made it better. But then I found out she was from a prominent New York family, and everyone on the reporting staff knew who she was. It was like he thought he was leveling up. I felt like such an idiot.”
“You weren’t the one who should have felt bad.”
“Everything about it was awful.” She fiddled with one of the ears on the bear pillow. “Obviously it added to my job stress and…anyway, the whole situation sucked. It also made it harder for me to resign fromThe Timesbecause I didn’t want Michael to think he’d hurt me so badly that I needed to flee New York entirely, but then after ending up in the hospital…well, I decided my sanity and well-being were more important than worrying about what he thought. So while I regret trusting him and loving him, I don’t regret leaving it all behind.”
Keeping his voice carefully controlled, Sam asked, “What was the other woman’s name?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Brooke rolled onto her back and blew out her breath. “I don’t even know if she knew about me, and if she did…well, it still doesn’t matter. I just never wanted my friends and family to know because it was such a humiliating lapse in judgement. And I didn’t want them to think I was so weak that I’d let a broken heart ruin my chances for an award-winning journalistic career. LeavingThe Timeswas bad enough.”
“If you didn’t want anyone to know, why did you tell me?”
She turned her head to look at him, and he felt a hot, hard pull deep inside. As if something elemental, beyond a snowstorm and a booking error, had drawn them together.
“Must be the blanket fort,” Brooke murmured. “It’s a safe place for telling secrets.”
He shifted his gaze back to the ceiling. They both watched the firelight shadows dancing over the sheets and blankets.
“Hey.” She poked him in the arm. “So far, I’ve given you my hideous break-up story and my terriblesmall-town girl gets chewed up and spit out by the big citystory. So far, you’ve given me…an antipathy for cheesecake.”
A humorless laugh escaped him. That was about all he had to give.
“If confessions were gold, I’d be King Midas.” Brooke lifted her hands and mimed a tilting balance. “I know you have this Mr. Rochester/Heathcliff thing going on, but we’re trapped in a snowstorm and we built a blanket fort. Tell me a real secret.”
“Like what?”
“Like what’s yourstory?” Curiosity radiated from her suddenly. “No one in Bliss Cove knows much about you or your past. Are you secretly an undercover CIA agent?”
He managed to scoff. “No.”
“Are you on the run from the law, or are you in witness protection? That’s what we were all guessing at first.”
“Creative, but no.”
“Come on, talk to me.” She touched his arm again—this time, more of a stroke than a poke. “You’re an international man of mystery, as far as the town gossips are concerned.”
“Meaning you?” He slanted her a narrow look. “I thought you were a reporter, not a gossip.”
“I am a reporter, which means I hear everything.” She arched an eyebrow. “Mrs. Higgins from the Outside Inn thinks you’re a gigolo.”
He huffed in amusement. “Mrs. Higgins has a vivid imagination.”
“Actually, I think she washopingyou’re a gigolo, but don’t tell her I said that.” She rearranged the pillows behind her head. “She really buckled down on that speculation when she saw you with Whistling Dixie lady.”
Sam scratched his head, both baffled and still amused. “Still not getting the whistling reference.”
“Oh.” She turned and rested her head on her hand. “So Mrs. Higgins was over in Glendale shopping one day last fall. She went into the Heavenly Café for a chai latte and a lemon pound cake…she loves their pound cake…and she saw you sitting with a woman whom she described asa brunette knockout with a natural rack. Her words, not mine, though clearly it was a compliment. Then she said you and the knockout ‘weren’t just whistling Dixie.’ And since no one in Bliss Cove knows anything about your sex…er, I mean your love life, there was all this speculation about your relationship with her.”