Page 88 of Words of Love
Brooke sat in the back of the room, glad that she had the chance to at least see him before their dinner. He looked the same—lean and handsome with his blond hair cropped short.
He’d always been a snappy dresser with a penchant for expensive suits he couldn’t really afford. That didn’t appear to have changed either, as he wore what looked like an Armani suit and blue silk tie. If she wasn’t mistaken, there was even a matching blue silk handkerchief in his breast pocket.
To her total lack of surprise, people converged on him like ants on a sugar bowl after the discussion, asking questions and probably flirting, too. She slipped out of the crowded room and went in search of the free coffee and pastries table.
After the day’s events had concluded, she returned to her hotel room and changed into a green sheath dress and low-heeled pumps. She applied a layer of makeup and pulled her hair into a knot at the base of her neck.
Though the “dress up” regimen had never been her style, she needed to feel extra powerful and in control at this dinner. Knowing she had an interview with a top-tier lifestyle magazine in her back pocket gave her an even bigger boost.
She splurged on a cab to Rockefeller Center. Based on the website, Harvest was a pricey, fine-dining establishment located on the fifty-second floor. By the time the cab driver pulled up, it was a few minutes to six.
After paying, Brooke hurried into the building. The ice-skating rink swarmed with people, and bright lights twinkled from the trees. She passed through security and located the elevator bank.
As she neared the cluster of people entering an open elevator, her heart thudded hard.
Right in front of her, a tall, dark-haired man stood toward the back of the crowd. Under normal circumstances, he might not have caught her attention, but her nerves were jittery over both Michael and the interview request. And something about the man’s posture and solid stance, as if he were holding the earth in place, elicited a surge of familiarity.
Sam?
Her breath caught. She increased her pace. Her thoughts darted in a thousand different directions. She swallowed the instinct to call his name.
The man stepped into the elevator and moved to the side. The doors began closing.
Brooke broke into a jog. The man shifted his gaze to her. He put his arm out to block the doors, holding them open.
She darted into the elevator and came to a stop, her pulse racing. She turned toward him. His name again formed on her lips, then died.
He wasn’t Sam.
Of course he wasn’t. Sam wouldn’t show up in Manhattan without calling or telling you. Silly goose.
Brooke pulled in a breath. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He released the doors, his fingers poised over the elevator panel. “What floor?”
“Fifty-two.”
“Harvest, huh?” He smiled slightly, revealing a boyish dimple in his left cheek. “I recommend the halibut and the dark chocolate soufflé. In different courses. Of course.”
She managed to smile at the small joke. “Of course.”
Though she was being rude, creepy, or both, she couldn’t stop staring at him. Up close, he was strikingly handsome. He looked as if he were in his mid-thirties, with fine lines radiating from the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth.
But he looked so much like Sam—strong features and high cheekbones sloping down to a wide, well-shaped mouth. Even his eyes, though a lighter brown, were a similar shape and framed by thick, dark eyelashes. He was an inch or two taller than Sam and maybe broader in the chest and shoulders, but the resemblance was uncanny.
He lifted his eyebrows, as if questioning her stare.
“I…I’m sorry.” Brooke gave herself a quick mental shake and faced forward. “I thought you were…you look like someone I know.”
His posture tensed. “Is that right?”
“Well, they say we all have a doppelganger.” She forced a chuckle. “You must be his.”
The elevator came to a stop at the twenty-first floor, and Brooke moved aside to let a few people exit. The doors closed again.
“Who is it I look like?” the man asked.
“Oh, just a…um, friend.” Doppelganger or not, she wasn’t about to tell a complete stranger about her complicated love life.