To Have And To Hold: The Wedding Belles Book 1 (29 page)

“Exactly. You would have tried to fix it. You’d have gotten all up in there,” Grant said.

“And that would have been a bad thing?”

Grant’s laugh held no humor. “This may come as a shock to you, but there are some things you can’t control, Seth. Your sister’s heart is one of them.”

Seth met his friend’s eyes, hurting for him, even with the anger between them. “Does she know?”

Grant shook his head miserably.

“You know that my finding dirt on Garrett will work in your favor,” Seth said slowly. “If the man’s a fraud and she breaks up with him—”

Grant was already shaking his head. “My love for her isn’t like that.”

Seth’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning
that that’s not how I love,” his friend said. “I don’t risk other people’s happiness for my own peace of mind.”

The quietly uttered statement was a direct hit, and this time it was Seth’s head that knocked back as though struck.

“Seth.” Grant rubbed a hand over his face. “I know it was hard for you when Hank died. I know it was hard learning that he kept his heart condition a secret from you.”

“Which he didn’t from you,” Seth said bitterly.

“You know I would have told you if he hadn’t made me promise to keep it quiet,” Grant replied. “And in the same way I begged him to tell you, to just be honest, I’m begging you now. Don’t do this to Maya. Don’t be dishonest with her.”

“You don’t get it,” Seth said a little desperately. “If I have a chance to help someone I care about, I have to take it. If my dad would have told me, I could have done something. I could have saved him.”

“Don’t do that, man,” Grant said. “Is that what’s driving you? You couldn’t save your dad, so now you’re thinking you’re saving Maya?”

“I have to try,” Seth said.

“That’s not love, Seth. Sticking your head into someone else’s business, not trusting them to do their life their way . . . that’s not love.”

“It’s my kind of love,” Seth snarled.

Grant made a disgusted sound and shook his head. “And that, my friend, is why you’re so goddamn alone.”

The tightness in Seth’s chest constricted horribly, and for a moment he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Get
out,” Seth snapped. “Get the hell out.”

“Happily,” Grant snapped back.

It was the last word his best friend said before he stormed out of Seth’s office, the door slamming shut behind him.

Leaving Seth as he’d always been.

Alone.

U
GH.
V
ALENTINE’S
D
AY IS
the worst,” Jessie huffed as she carefully arranged fancy Levain Bomboloncini, the trendy bakery’s signature go-to snack, hand wrapped with pale pink paper, on a tray. It was four o’clock on a Friday, and a rare moment of calm in the Belles, with all four women in the same place, as Alexis had asked them to block off a couple of hours to add some classy Valentine’s Day decorations around headquarters.

“Nuh-uh,” Heather said, helping herself to one of the miniature powder-dusted doughnuts and earning a glare from Alexis. “You don’t get to say that, what with your boyfriend and all.”

“Um, I can
totally
have a boyfriend and still hate Valentine’s Day,” Jessie said.

“Nope.” Heather’s mouth was full of raspberry jam. “That’s reserved for us single girls.”

“Hear, hear,” Alexis muttered as she carefully placed handblown hearts into one of the hurricane vases on the reception table.

Brooke
glanced over at the Wedding Belles’ owner. “You too, Alexis? You hate Valentine’s Day?”

“Not professionally,” Alexis said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “It gets people feeling all dreamy and spendy, which is good for business. But personally . . .” She shrugged. “Not my favorite.”

“I take it from your scandalized expression that you do like the holiday, Brooke,” Heather said, reaching for a miniature Godiva from the small crystal bowl on the table and getting her hand slapped by Jessie.

Brooke paused in the process of stuffing vellum valentines into fancy envelopes. All of their previous clients received handwritten notes from the Belles, unless, of course, they were on Alexis’s carefully maintained Divorce List That Wasn’t Spoken Of.

“I do like Valentine’s Day,” she admitted, running a finger over the cupid stamp on the envelope.

“That’s because she’s taken a luv-er,” Heather said in a singsong tone.

Brooke’s insides warmed as she thought about Seth. Not that he was the romantic type. She certainly wasn’t holding her breath for flowers and candy when Valentine’s Day rolled around in another week. More likely he’d forget about the day altogether, and then make it up to her with his hands and mouth and sexy words late into the night . . .

“Are you blushing?” Alexis asked, giving her a suspicious look.

Jessie laughed. “No, that’s just good old-fashioned overheating. Her mind’s gone to The Gutter.”

True. Super True.

“Okay,
but seriously,” Brooke said, changing the subject away from her sex life. “Even if I didn’t have a luv-er, I’d still love Valentine’s Day.”

Heather pointed at her own face. “See this? Skepticism.”

“Big surprise,” Alexis said. “You remind us almost daily that you doubt all things men and romance.”

“As do you, dear,” Brooke heard herself say mildly.

Her boss shot her a surprised look. “Excuse me?”

Brooke’s eyes widened as she glanced around at the group of women. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were we not supposed to talk about the fact that you keep all men at a safe distance?”

Heather let out a surprised laugh, and Jessie pointed toward the kitchen. “I’m just gonna go ahead and get us some wine.”

The receptionist glanced at Alexis in question as she said this, and Alexis glanced at her watch, then shrugged at seeing the late afternoon hour. “Nobody has any last-minute appointments?”

“Nope,” Heather and Brooke chorused.

“Then what the hell,” Alexis muttered, going to the front door and pulling the silver Closed plaque from the door and carefully hanging it over the doorbell.

Brooke silently cheered. If girl time, plentiful chocolate, and pretty pink hearts didn’t call for wine, she didn’t know what did.

“I’m thinking champagne,” Jessie said, coming back with a bottle and four flutes. “The cheap stuff, so don’t freak, Alexis.”

Alexis scoffed. “I never freak.”

“’Tis
true,” Heather said, flopping back onto a white love seat and patting the spot next to her for Brooke to come join. “I mean, I maybe saw her almost freak once when she found out that a bride was having an affair with the groom’s father and wanted to announce it at the rehearsal dinner, but even then she didn’t have a hair out of place.”

“Of course not,” Alexis said primly, sitting in a chair and smoothing a hand over her dove-gray slacks as she accepted a glass of champagne from Jessie. “Because I’m not a complete heathen.”

It was said jokingly, but as Brooke studied her boss in all her put-together glory, she realized that Heather was right. Alexis wasn’t just cool under pressure; she was downright rigid at times. Not in the cold, emotionless kind of way; it was just that the woman seemed to operate 100 percent from her head, and almost zero percent from her heart.

Brooke, on the other hand, was a bundle of messy emotions.

Always had been, probably always would be.

But only the happy emotions. That was very important. If one was going to wear one’s heart on her sleeve, as Brooke tried to, it was important to keep sadness and anger at bay, giving in only to the giddy, good stuff in life.

It was how she survived.

Once all the women had champagne in hand, Jessie lifted a glass. “To Valentine’s Day.”

“Which isn’t for another week,” Heather argued. “Plus, no way am I toasting to that. It’s not even a real holiday.”

Jessie
rolled her eyes. “Well, what would you toast to?”

Heather slid a sly glance toward Brooke. “How about to the newest addition to the Wedding Belles?”

“We’ve already toasted to me,” Brooke said. “That first lunch at MOMA when you took me under your collective wing and were just . . . wonderful.”

“Okay, don’t get weepy,” Heather said. “And I was thinking more like toasting to your new man.”

“Oh, it’s a little early for that,” Brooke rushed to say. “We’re just . . . playing.”

Alexis caught her eye and winked before lifting her glass. “Okay, then. To playing.”

They all clinked glasses and took a sip of the delicious bubbly. It might have been “the cheap stuff” by Alexis’s shopping standards, but it was still darn yummy.

“So things are going well, then?” Alexis asked. “With you and Seth?”

“I guess so,” Brooke said, running a fingernail over the stem of her glass. “I mean, he’s not sending me texts by the hour confessing his love or anything, but we do dinner a couple times a week. Sometimes to discuss Maya’s wedding stuff, sometimes not, and it’s . . . I don’t know. It’s nice.”

“Old-fashioned dating,” Heather said wistfully. “God, I miss that.”

“Do you think it’s too soon?” Brooke blurted out.

All three women looked at her in surprise. “Too soon for what?”

Brooke twisted a lock of hair around her finger anxiously. “You know, to be seeing someone. I just
got out of an engagement a few months ago, and I’ve only known Seth for a few weeks. I feel like I’m supposed to take time to heal, or something.”

“If you feel ready, then you’re ready,” Jessie said confidently.

Brooke noticed that Alexis avoided her gaze and didn’t chime in, and she sat up straighter, pointing at her friend. “There. That. What is that?”

“What is what?” Alexis said, still not meeting her eyes.

“You think it’s too soon!” Brooke accused. “You think I was supposed to wait longer to recover from Clay.”

Alexis rolled her eyes, finally glancing at Brooke. “Not true. I’m the one who encouraged you to go to Seth that first night, remember?”

“Oh. That’s true,” Brooke mused. “So what was with the Thinking Face?”

“Uh-oh,” Heather said. “Alexis’s Thinking Face is never a good thing.”

“I don’t have a thinking face,” Alexis said. “I just . . . I am happy for you, Brooke, of course. And I don’t believe that there’s any minimum amount of time required for the heart to heal. But—”

Brooke sighed. “I knew there was going to be a
but
.”

“I just want to make sure that you’ve
let
yourself heal,” Alexis finished, her voice gentle.

“Of course I have,” Brooke said automatically. “That’s why I came out to New York instead of staying in LA licking my wounds.”

“Running away isn’t the same thing as healing.”

“Alexis!”
Jessie said.

“No, it’s okay,” Brooke said, her eyes never leaving Alexis’s. “I asked for her opinion.”

“And it is
just
an opinion,” Alexis clarified. “But while I was all for you acting on instinct with Seth, owning your womanhood, or whatever, I just want to make sure you’ve had a chance to sort out what happened with Clay. Your heart suffered a pretty big shock.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Brooke said, unable to keep the slight edge out of her voice.

Alexis reached out, resting her fingers against Brooke’s knee. “It’s just that you never talk about it. Not really. I mean, you talk in general terms about what happened, but there’s a distance to the way you tell the story. As though it happened to someone else.”

Brooke opened her mouth to argue that she was very aware who it had happened to, only . . .

Alexis’s words started to get under her skin.

As in,
the other woman might be right.

“Have you talked to Clay since the day of your wedding?” Heather asked quietly.

Brooke shook her head, somewhat surprised and peeved by Heather’s apparent siding with Alexis. She had been all gung ho on Seth and Brooke getting together until this point, but now she seemed to be changing her tune. What was up with that? “No. I thought it would be . . . too painful.”

And Brooke avoided pain at all costs. Because really, it was just the smart thing to do, right? Why dwell on something that hurt when you could shift your attention toward something that made you feel good?

But
was she blurring the line? Was she confusing positive thinking with avoidance?

She frowned and took a sip of champagne.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Jessie scolded the other two women. “You stole her happy!”

“I’m still happy,” Brooke said, but it sounded false even to her own ears.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Alexis said, apparently having a rare moment of self-doubt. “I just see you putting on this happy face every single day, and I admire it, but I worry that you’re going to shatter one time.”

Brooke swallowed. “I’m okay. I’m really okay.”

“Of course you are,” Heather said, putting an arm around her. “You have us now.”

Brooke forced a smile, except . . . now she was
aware
that it was forced.

“Do you think I should talk to him?” she asked. “To Clay?”

“Only if you want to,” Alexis said. “Only if it feels right.”