Shine Your Love on Me (24 page)

“Three weeks, maybe. I’m not sure. We’ve
finished the first two scripts and are halfway through the third. I
told them it was a family emergency.” He stroked her hair.

“It’s so good to see you.”

“I’ve missed you.” The car stopped, and they
exited.

“Buddy?” Pres called as soon as he walked
through the door. The pug came tearing around the corner, wiggling,
snorting, and jumping up on Pres’s legs. He bent down, allowing the
small dog to lick his face several times. He laughed and petted the
squirmy animal.

“He missed you almost as much as I did,”
Brooke said.

The apartment had been so empty without Nan.
But Pres filled the space. He helped her set up. Cooler weather
meant comfort food. She put meatloaf in the oven and peeled
potatoes. Pres wiped down the table and pulled out dishes.

Working together, they had everything ready
when the crowd showed at five thirty. Pres hit “popcorn” on the
microwave and set out bowls. Brooke reported that Nan was improving
every day, which brought a round of applause.

“Do you plan to keep doing dinner and movie
nights?” John asked.

“As long as I can, John. If I’m in this
apartment, I plan to continue.” Her statement was rewarded with
another round of applause. Brooke was anxious to avoid any more
probing. Her life seemed to be filled with questions, but no
answers.

“Dinner’s served,” she announced when Pres
placed the large pan on the table.

Once everyone had his or her plate, Pres and
Brooke sat down to eat. A knock on the door surprised Brooke. She
wasn’t expecting anyone. When she opened it, two uniformed
policemen stood outside. She invited them in.

“Are you Brooke Felson?”

She nodded.

“We have a cease and desist order.” The
officer looked around. “You’re running a restaurant without a
permit, Miss Felson. That’s against the law. You must clear
everyone out.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Harry piped up

“She’ll be fined then go to jail, wise guy.
Here.” The cop handed her some papers.

“Can I let them finish eating?”

One police officer looked at the other. “Why
not? Okay. Sure.”

“One minute, officer. Who filed this
complaint?” Harry asked.

“It’s confidential.”

“I bet it was Miriam Grand,” Harry said.

“Who’s she?” Brooke asked.

“She’s the director of the senior center,”
John answered. “You’re too much competition, Brooke.”

“Sorry, Miss, but it’s the law. Sure smells
good in here. We’ll wait outside.” The policemen tipped their hats,
turned, and left.

Brooke was speechless. The seniors grumbled
as they finished their food. Each took their plate into the
kitchen, hugged Brooke, and left as soon as they were through. When
the last one closed the door, Brooke sank down into a chair in the
dining room. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me, neither. How petty and mean,” Pres said,
picking up glassware and carting it into the kitchen.

“Guess I’m going to take that offer to go to
London.” She sighed.

“What offer to go to London?” He stopped
moving.

Brooke explained about the negotiated
settlement.

“I’m glad you didn’t let that bastard get
away with what he did, but London? Damn!”

“What else can I do? I can’t do this anymore.
We have to sell the apartment. At least it’s a job. I can support
myself.” She chewed her lip.

“Don’t go, Brooke. Move in with me.”

“You’re in California.”

“Just for a couple of more weeks. I hate
living without you. I love you. Marry me.” Pres’s gaze locked with
hers.

“Marry you? Are you serious?” Her eyes
widened.

Pres fell down on one knee. The dogs sniffed
him. “I was saving this for dinner at a fancy restaurant, but I
don’t have time, since you’re thinking about London. I love you
with all my heart. Marry me, kitten. I’ve got enough money.
There’ll be other pilots if this series doesn’t take off. Other
scripts. Please, honey, say you will.” He fumbled in his pocket
before drawing out a small, velvet box. He opened it to reveal a
gorgeous, three-carat, square-cut diamond ring.

Brooke’s pulse kicked up. She was lightheaded
as she gazed into his eyes. The warmth there made her blood sizzle.
I adore him. Can’t be without him.

“Please, Brooke. Say ‘yes’.”

“Yes! I will. Get up.” She pulled on his
arms.

He pushed the ring on her finger then stood.
She gazed at her hand for a second then at him. He took her in his
embrace for a huge kiss, deepening it as Brooke melted against him.
Her heart pounded and warmth crept through her body.
Married.
Married to Pres. A dream come true.
They’d never have to be
separated again. He’d be there, always.

Children!
Yes, they’d have children.
Brooke would have her own family. Her mind raced while energy
surged through her veins. Happiness rose like a Phoenix from the
ashes of her life.

They continued their passion in her bed,
where they made love and slept, tangled together.

The next few days were filled with
festivities. First, with Pres’s family. Jonathan Carpenter took
them to an elegant brunch at The Yale Club. Then, they brought a
cake with them to Nan’s new residence and celebrated with her and
some of her new friends. Nan didn’t stop smiling or telling
everyone how much she had hoped her granddaughter would marry
Pres.

Forgetting about the police, some of the
seniors showed up on Sunday night. Pres bought sweets and they
partied then. Bess baked her special seven-layer, yellow, coconut
cake for a small party, which included their men, at the Dinner
Club meeting.

Although she was over the moon about marrying
Pres, she had some nagging fears about her future. She’d decided to
take the money from the monster who had fired her. She figured it
would pay for her wedding, although Nan had protested that she
wanted to foot the bill.

Her new career had gone up in smoke,
evaporated with the deliverance of one document from the police.
She had no idea what she wanted to do. With no answers, she turned
her energies to making an inventory of the items in the house.
Deciding what to sell, what to move to Nan’s new digs, and what to
take with her was a big job, and it kept her occupied when she
wasn’t spending time with Pres.

Being busy kept the question of a career for
Brooke on the back burner. She avoided thinking about what she’d do
with her life beyond becoming Mrs. Preston Carpenter. The
tap
tap
of pug claws echoed through the apartment as Freddy,
Ginger, and Buddy followed her from room to room.

Brooke lugged boxes around and tagged them
with their final destination.
Books to the Breast Cancer resale
shop. Knickknacks to Nan’s. My winter clothes to storage. Dishes to
Nan’s. Family pictures to Pres’s place.
She worked away,
ignoring the unease growing inside.

Her cell rang. “Ms. Brooke Felson?”

Distracted and annoyed at the interruption,
she was brusque. “Who’s calling?”

“I’m Miriam Grand. The Director from the
Senior Center?”

“Oh. You’re the one who blew the whistle on
me with the cops?”

The woman laughed. “You make it sound like I
busted a drug ring. Yes, I did report your illegal restaurant.”

“Can’t take a little competition?” Brooke
couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

“I’d like to come and speak to you for a
minute, if you have time.”

“Why should I? Why should I take any more
crap from you?” She went to close her cell.

“Wait! Please! Ms. Felson, you’ll like what I
have to say.”

Brooke frowned, but put the phone back to her
ear anyway. “Okay. I’ll hear you out.”

“When can I come?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Brooke gave her the
address. Then, she hung up and put up a pot of coffee.

Pres dropped by early to walk the dogs.

“That witch from the center who closed us
down is coming by. Stay. See what she has to say for herself.”

“I’ll be your back-up, your reinforcements,
your posse.”

Brooke laughed. “Let’s not get carried
away.”

“I love to get carried away. Especially with
you.” He nibbled on her neck.

The buzzer from the lobby sounded.

“Later. Let me get rid of this worm
first.”

“It’s a Miss Miriam Grand, Ms. Felson,” Rocky
announced over the intercom.

“Send her up.” She responded, easing Pres
away and gripping the doorknob. Anger churned in Brooke’s bosom,
winding its way around her heart and filling her veins.
This is
the bitch who reported me to the police. And she has the nerve to
come here?

When she heard the knock on the door, Brooke
opened it. The pugs jumped up from their sleeping positions on the
sofa and raced to see who had arrived.

“Come in.”

“Is it safe?”

Brooke glared at her. “The dogs don’t bite.
Coffee?”
But I might.

“I’d love a cup.”

Brooke introduced Pres, who left to get the
beverages. Then, she sat down on the sofa. “What do you want?”

Miriam took a seat opposite Brooke. “First, I
must compliment you on your success. You’ve stolen a significant
number of our seniors to your dinner-and-a-movie thing here.”

“How did you find out?”

“I saw you on the
Baking with Bess
program.”

“Crap! So, if I hadn’t done that, you still
wouldn’t know.” Brooke pushed to her feet.

“Probably not. They’re a sly crowd. They know
how to keep a secret.”

“And you called the police.”

“What you were doing is against the law.”

“Great. So, you’ve put me out of business and
deprived a bunch of people, your people, of an inexpensive, fun
night. Aren’t you the big, effing hero?” Brooke shifted her weight,
balling her fists on her hips and narrowing her eyes.

“I expected you to be mad. Please listen. I
have a proposition for you.”

“Really? After you stabbed me in the
back?”

“I had an ulterior motive.”

“So, you’re even nastier than I thought?
Perhaps you’d better leave.”

Miriam raised her hand. “Wait! Wait. Hear me
out. Please.” Pres entered with a tray carrying three cups of
coffee, milk, and sugar. He placed it on the coffee table. Miriam
took one.

“Make it quick. I have other things to
do.”

“I want to offer you a job.”

“A what?”

“A job. At the center. I want you come work
for us, plan menus, select movies, and maybe other activities, for
weekends.”

“Could you repeat that?”

“I want you to do what you were doing here,
at the center. And get paid for it.”

Brooke was speechless. “You’re kidding,
right?”

“Nope. There was a method to my madness. Are
you interested?”

“Work for you? At a place that’s so
insensitive to the needs of the people there?”

“We’re trying.”

“And you want me to help? Help you succeed
after you shut me down.”

“Is there any way I can make it clearer?”

“I guess not.”

“So, will you do it? If you don’t take the
job, I’ll have a riot on my hands.”

“As if I care. You deserve it,” Brooke’s
angry tone softened a little.

“Please. I’m begging you.”

“You know I can’t refuse, don’t you? Not for
you. For them.”

Miriam smiled. “Kinda figured I had you over
a barrel.”

“But you begged.”

“I did. I’m not proud.” Miriam chuckled.

“Just devious.”

“I admit it. But it worked. You’re taking the
job?”

“I have to.”

“That’s what I thought. Great. Welcome to the
Sadie Cohen Senior Center of the Upper West Side. When can you
start?” Miriam extended her hand. Brooke hesitated for a moment
before she took it.

“Wait! We haven’t discussed salary.”

“It’s more than you were making before. And
you don’t have to pay for the food.”

Brooke laughed. “You’ve got it all covered,
don’t you?”

“I’m a planner. It’s wonderful to have
someone of your creative talent and cooking ability on our staff,
Miss Felson.”

“Thank you, Miss Grand.”

“Call me Miriam.”

“If you call me Brooke.”

“I hope you can forgive my tactics,
Brooke.”

“Time heals everything, eventually.”

“When can you start?” Freddy plopped down at
Miriam’s feet.

“Next week? After Thanksgiving?”

“Excellent! Come by my office Monday morning.
We’ll get the paperwork filled out.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“Bring your dogs. Our members love dogs.” She
ran her hand along Freddy’s fur.

Brooke broke into a smile. “They’ll love
it.”

* * * *

Brooke spent Thanksgiving Day with Nan then
scooted over to Pres’s parents’ apartment for a late-night feast on
leftovers. Friday, she spent conferring with the chef at the
center. A turkey noodle casserole with cranberry sauce on the side
was paired with a spinach and mushroom salad and a lime gelatin
mold. For dessert, they planned pumpkin pie and brownies.

Harry was the first to arrive. Brooke had
scheduled the original
Miracle on 34
^th
Street.

“I saw that movie a thousand times with my
late wife. Let’s see something sexy,” Harry said.

“It’s tradition. Can’t break tradition,” Mary
said.

“Yes, you can! Dammit, woman, do something
different, will ya?”

“I’m with Harry. Do I have to see that crap
again?” John piped up.

“Here’s what we have today. You all decide
yourselves. I want a consensus. Not just your choice, Harry. Take a
vote.”

Several seniors crowded around the list then
passed it on.

“Why isn’t
Last Tango in Paris
on the
list?” Harry asked.

“That dirty film!” Carmen chimed in.