The Chesapeake Diaries Series (128 page)

Jesse touched the rim of his glass to hers. “To your success, then.”

“I will most certainly drink to that.”

Brooke raised the glass to her lips, but before she
could take a sip, Gabriel Beck, Vanessa’s half brother and the town’s chief of police, known to everyone as simply Beck, called everyone to the dining room for the congratulatory toasts to the engaged couple. The overflow of guests filled the foyer.

“We’d like the members of the wedding party to come in here,” Beck said when the noise level began to die down.

“Excuse me,” Brooke said to Jesse. “That would include me.”

She made her way through the crowd to the dining room, looking back once to see that Jesse’s eyes followed her every step of the way.

Jesse stood near the back of the crowd of well-wishers and listened as first Beck made a toast, followed by one given by Dallas, then another by Grant. His mind began drifting back to that moment earlier when he’d crossed Cherry Street at the top of the block just as Brooke began to park the car. He’d just made it to Vanessa’s driveway when Brooke stumbled and fell forward and the tower of white boxes began to shift. If he’d been two steps sooner, he’d have been able to prevent the top boxes from toppling.

The look on Brooke’s face had been sheer panic and total devastation when those three boxes hit the ground. He understood what it meant to need to make a great first impression, how sometimes the direction of your life could depend on it. He was glad that he had been there to lend a hand and to help put a smile back on her face.

It was a beautiful smile, and a heart-stoppingly beautiful face. Hadn’t his own heart all but stopped
when she’d walked up to him and called his name a few minutes ago? Through the crowd he could see her, and he was finding it hard to look away.

“Enright.” Clay appeared at his elbow.

“How’s it going?” Jesse whispered so as not to be heard over the toasts that were still being made.

“Good. You?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Heard what you did for Brooke this afternoon. Thanks for helping her out. She says you saved the day for her.”

Jesse nodded, his eyes still on Brooke.

“You … ah … interested? In my sister, I mean?” Clay asked.

“Might be.” Jesse’s gaze remained straight ahead.

“You want a tip?” Clay leaned in closer. “Don’t let her know. Let her think you only want to be her friend, and for God’s sake, don’t ask her out.”

“Sounds like something a big brother would say when he thinks someone wants to date his sister,” Jesse muttered. “Actually, sounds like something I did say when my little sister—”

“No, I’m serious. And for the record, she’s older.” Clay took a few steps back toward the foyer, to the very edge of the crowd, and he gestured for Jesse to follow. “Look, if you ask her out, she’ll go out with you one time, and after that, she’ll be busy every time you call her.”

“So you’re saying that if she thinks I’m interested in her—should I be, that is—”

“She’ll turn you off like a light switch.”

Jesse just stared. It was a novel way of scaring off a potential suitor for your sister. He might try it sometime.
It was too late to work on Jonathan, he reasoned, but if Sophie ever came to her senses and dropped that jerk, maybe the opportunity might arise at some point in the future.

“Look, I’ve been watching guys make fools of themselves over Brooke since I was a kid, but she’s always been picky. Now, since Eric, she’s even worse. You can ask any single guy in St. Dennis, since most of them have asked her out. And she’s gone out with most of them. Once.” Clay pointed across the room to a tall blond guy. “One time. And see the guy in the navy sport jacket? One date.” He pointed throughout the crowd and repeated, “One date. One date … and oh, yeah, there’s Owen Petrie. One date. Go ahead. Ask any one of them.”

Clay lowered his voice even more. “If you’re really into Brooke, don’t let her know.”

It wasn’t anything Jesse hadn’t heard from other people, but it was interesting to hear Clay’s take on the situation.

“So how do I get to know her? That is, if I wanted to.”

“You run into her here and there, you talk, you make nice, you let her know that you like her but let her think it’s only friendship. But don’t ask her out. I mean it. Every guy in town has tried. With Brooke, it’s one and done. If you don’t want to be done, just be her friend until she decides she wants it to be something else.”

“And if she never does?”

“Then you’re no worse off than you were before.” Clay paused. “My sister’s had a rough time these past few years.”

“I heard about her husband.”

“I’ve tried talking to her, told her she needs to start to make a life for herself, but she just can’t seem to get past it.”

“Could you?”

Clay thought it over for a moment. “I think losing someone you love puts a hole inside you that’s bigger than anything you can imagine—bigger than anything I can imagine, anyway. But I also think that sooner or later, you’re going to have to start filling that hole in. Brooke’s been in mourning for more than two years now. It’s not that I think she should forget about Eric. He was one hell of a guy and she loved him. He’s the father of her son. But she’s very young—much too young—to … well, to give up on life.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jesse asked.

“What you did for her today was pretty decent. And it’s obvious that you’re interested in her.”

“So you’re giving me the inside word as a thank-you?”

Clay shrugged. “I guess you could put it that way.”

“Then when do I get to go out with her?” He added, “Assuming, of course, that I wanted to.”

“You’ll probably have to wait until she asks you.”

“How many guys has she asked out?”

“None that I know of,” Clay told him, “but you could be the first if you play your cards right.”

Clay slapped him on the back and headed for the waiter who appeared with another tray of champagne. He took a glass and raised it in Jesse’s direction.

“A word to the wise,” Clay said before turning back to the toasts that were still being given.

“Thanks,” Jesse muttered, and wondered if he was being played.

He looked around the room at the other guys Clay claimed had never gotten a second date with Brooke. They all looked like nice enough guys to him. He’d met Owen Petrie a couple of times, and thought he seemed like a good guy.

He was going to have to do a little research among some of the guys Clay claimed Brooke had gone out with once and then promptly crossed off the list, Jesse told himself, because he wasn’t about to give up on getting to know her better. Every conversation he had with her seemed to end too soon, and any time he spent with her had never been long enough.

From across the room, Jesse watched Owen, who was hard to miss because he topped six feet by about another six inches and was almost the tallest guy in the room. Maybe he could chat him up a bit, see what he had to say.

Jesse emptied his glass and returned it to a passing tray. If Owen and a few others corroborated Clay’s story, Jesse was just going to have to come up with a plan that no one else had thought of. What that plan might be, he had no idea, but he figured he could learn from their mistakes. He made his way through the crowd to Owen Petrie, who had just been joined by the tall blond fellow Clay had pointed out as a victim of Brooke’s “one-and-done.”

Of course, Jesse was going to have to be subtle—no guy likes to admit he’s been dumped by a girl he likes—but he could do subtle. As a trial lawyer, he’d gotten witnesses to admit to things on the stand that
no one had foreseen—no one on the other side, that is. He knew how to phrase things to get people to open up. He cleared his throat, and smiled as he caught Owen’s eye and raised a hand in greeting.

Let the interrogation of the witnesses begin.

Chapter 6

Jesse had always been proud of his analytical skills, so he was pretty pleased with himself as he walked to work the next morning with what he thought sounded like a reasonable plan: if pursuing a relationship with Brooke was destined to result in a door closed in his face, he was just going to have to make
her
want to pursue a relationship with
him
. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure of how best to get from concept to reality, since he’d adopted subtlety as his motto. His plan was admittedly sketchy, a work in progress. Some things were going to have to be played by ear.

He began when he arrived at the office by having Liz call Brooke and ask if she could change her appointment and come into the office at eleven thirty, rather than later in the afternoon, to go over her will. It was quite brilliant, Jesse thought, because they’d be forced to work through the lunch hour, and well, then he’d have to feed her, wouldn’t he? If he arranged to have food delivered at twelve-fifteen, when she’d surely still be there, he could invite her to join him. While they ate, maybe they could put business aside for a few minutes. Almost like a lunch date, he reasoned.
If he’d kept the appointment for four o’clock, however, she’d most likely want to leave to have dinner with her son, and she’d be out of his office by five.

Subtle
. Mentally he patted himself on the back.

At eleven-twenty, he heard the front door open and close. He loosened his tie to achieve that hard-at-work, rumpled look, and spread the contents of a file across his desk as if he’d been working diligently all morning instead of popping up to look out the window every time he heard a car door slam.

“Brooke Bowers is here, Jesse,” Liz buzzed in to tell him.

“Great.” Jesse got up from his desk, tugged his shirtsleeves up just a bit more, and opened his office door. “Brooke.” He greeted her with a friendly smile. “Come on in.”

“Hi, Jesse.” Brooke smiled back as she walked toward him, and he felt his heart flip.

He held the door for her, then after she entered his office, closed it behind her. He moved one of the leather side chairs a little closer to his desk. Would a guy tell a woman
friend
how great she looked in yoga pants and a casual, loose top? Would he say “great”? “Nice”? He wouldn’t say “hot,” though, right? He wasn’t sure, so he let it go.

“Sorry to be a little early, but I dropped off cupcakes at Scoop and at Cuppachino, and thought maybe I’d read if you were busy.” Brooke pulled a paperback out of her bag, held it up, then dropped it back in. “I told Liz I didn’t want to inconvenience you if you weren’t ready to see me …”

Jesse brushed off her concern with a wave of his hand.

“I can get back to this later.” He returned all the papers to the file on his desk and set it aside. “Besides, I can always make time for a friend.”

“Thanks, Jesse.” She sat and opened her bag again, this time removing a fat envelope. “I know I should have done all this sooner, but it’s just been so hard to deal with—”

“No need to explain,” he replied. “I can only imagine how difficult these past few years have been for you.”

“I really appreciate that you’re so understanding.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “I want to make sure that Logan’s interests are protected should anything happen to me. And there’s this matter of the business Eric had started with his brother …”

“We can take care of everything for you,” Jesse assured her. “One thing at a time. Now, did you bring your existing will with you?”

“I have the one Eric and I made after Logan was born, and I have the one he made right before he left the last time.” She opened the folder and sorted through the papers. “You must think I’m an airhead. I apologize for not having these papers in better order.”

“I don’t think anything of the sort. Take your time.” He glanced at the clock. He could easily drag this out until lunch was delivered.

“This is the one Eric and I made together.” She handed him a folded sheaf of papers with her right hand, and with her left, passed him a file. “And this is the one Eric made on his own.”

“Thanks. Give me a minute or two to look these over.”

“Of course.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see her looking around his office, and he wished he’d spent a little time adding some personal touches to the decor. He wondered what she thought that portrait of his great-great-grandfather hanging over the corner fireplace said about him.

Then again, since he wasn’t sure how long he’d be staying in St. Dennis—his employment being dependent on the whims of his grandfather—he hadn’t spent much time thinking about decorating the office.

“This is all pretty standard.” Jesse held up the joint will. “You leave everything to each other, and in the case that you are both deceased, the estate goes to Logan.”

Brooke nodded.

“I don’t see anything about a business, though.” Jesse frowned and searched for a possible codicil.

“That’s all in Eric’s last will,” Brooke told him. “He and his brother had agreed to go into business when Eric came home before his last deployment. His brother started up the business while he was gone, but Eric provided half the funding. It’s all in there.” She pointed to the file he was opening.

“Let’s see what we have here …” Jesse began to read. When he got to the end, he looked up at Brooke. “So your husband and his brother agreed to go fifty-fifty on this business, with the brother actually running it until Eric left the service.”

“Right.”

“What kind of business are we talking about?”

“Landscaping. His brother has a degree in landscape architecture, and wanted to start his own business. Eric totally supported him in that, and was
going to work with him when he retired from the military.”

“What contact have you had with”—Jesse scannned the will for the name—“Jason Bowers since Eric’s death?”

“Jace was at the funeral, of course,” Brooke replied. “And he always remembers to send Logan presents on his birthday and at Christmas. We talk on the phone once in a while—less and less as time goes on, though.”

“And what does he have to say about this business?”

“Not a whole lot. He says he’s busy and that things are going well.”

“He never asked if you wanted him to buy you out or pay you back for the money Eric invested? Has he ever referred to the financial arrangement he had with his brother?”