Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (28 page)

Elliott shook his head. “No, she’s not.”

Millie pressed her lips together. She
couldn’t hide her sarcasm. “Um, yeah, she is. And as her friend,
I’m trying to help her. In order to help her, I need her to face
her feelings about Jason.”

“And she can’t do that when she’s in my bed
all day.”

All week, technically. “Exactly.” Now they
were getting somewhere. “Jason’s mom is having a holiday party
tomorrow night and I’ve come to tell you, you are not invited.”

Millie bit down. Had she just said that? Now
he definitely knew about the party if he didn’t already and he’d
likely dig in his heels and make sure he was there. Oh well, no
taking it back now. All she could do was hope she hadn’t just shot
herself in the foot in her mouth.

Elliott continued to stare at her, apparently
unimpressed. So much so, Millie nearly repeated herself. She bit
down on her lip again, straining to maintain steely composure. She
was a warrior in the battle for love, friendship and AJ. This puppy
of a man would not take what was hers. Brooke had to either fall
for Jason or get over him. She had to be able to put that wedding
picture away.

Elliott’s silence pulled at her. She tried to
think of something smart to say. Some kind of winning closer better
than “What do I have to do to get you out of Brooke’s life
today?”

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

Occasion for what? Oh, yeah. The holiday
party. “Does it matter?” she said, all ice and snow.

“You don’t know, do you?” he said and smiled.
Not a gloating grin, but more a smile filled with wonder. “You
think Brooke still loves Jason. That they have a chance.”

Wonder? She didn’t know what? What the party
was for? Not a clue. “Does it matter what the occasion is?” Not the
artsy-est of war answer, but not the worst either. All that
mattered was he wasn’t putting up a fight. Or did that mean he
wasn’t taking her seriously? Shit. How could she possibly tell? Get
a commitment. “Starting today, I’m going to do everything I can to
impress upon Brooke how wrong you are for her.”

“You mean you haven’t already?” He actually
sounded amused.

Could AJ be right? Could Elliott be Brooke’s
match? “If her best friend’s opinion doesn’t help get her head out
of the clouds, I’m sure yours will.”

“Mine?” His grin faltered.

“Yours. You see, not only will you be too
busy to go tomorrow,” she said, growing more confident with every
word. “You will also be too busy to ever see her again.”

He stopped smiling. “Or what?”

A tremor ran through her. This was the
moment, the kill, her last ace up the sleeve. She had no choice.
“Or Professor Shope will be apprised of your affair with a
student—his niece, Michelle.”

Elliott stood, his eyes narrowed. Was this
the part where he threw her out? Millie stood too, and headed for
the door. Her stomach had gone completely sour. But, she needed to
know he would choose Brooke.

“Michelle Shope won’t lie for you,” he
said.

Impressed that his mind got that far ahead,
she pressed on. “Oh yes, she will. I promise you that. But I don’t
really see how it will matter since you won’t do anything to force
me to make her.” Her belly felt sicker. She might vomit right there
on his tiled floor. Now that would be some closer. “All I need from
you, Elliott, is to know you’ll end today what you would be ready
to end a few weeks to months from now. No biggie. In fact, Michelle
is still interested, so you’ll have a warm body to kiss the
boo-boos.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Elliott said, his
even tone at odds with eyes ablaze with anger. “I can’t believe
Brooke trusts you. Don’t worry, though. I won’t be the one to tell
her who you really are. I couldn’t stand seeing her in that kind of
pain.”

Ouch, that stung. Bad. Worse than a backhand.
She almost wished he had just hit her. She suppressed the urge to
explain herself, the impulse to make him understand that she was
doing this for Brooke’s own good. If she was right about Jason,
Elliott was supposed to dislike being told what to do, but, with
his job on the line, should back down. Spit nails. Call her every
whore name in the book, but back down.

“You let me worry about Brooke.” She put her
hand on the door, hesitated. She still needed him to vow he’d stop
seeing Brooke. Or not.

“Tell me, will Gordon be at the party?” he
asked, a gleam in his eye that should have warned her.

She arched her eyebrows and narrowed her
eyes. If icicles could shoot out, they would. The kind of superior
sidelong look Kiki could make a man pee himself over. “Does it
matter who else is there?”

Elliott gave her a wide, beaming smile. “Only
if the dinner is in Jason’s honor and he has an announcement to
make.”

Millie’s surety faltered. What was so
flipping funny? And how did he know the reason behind Nancy’s
dinner? One more pathetic “does it matter?” on her part and she’d
laugh herself out of the door right along with him.

Deep down, something yelled at her to find
out. A small panic danced up her chest. “Why would Gordon be there
for an announcement?” Why would Elliott think his cousin being
there was funny? “If you think you can use Gordon as a way to go to
that dinner—?”

Elliott laughed throatily. “I’m not going,
Millie, but I wish I could be there. Except, I’ll get to hear all
about it. Probably long before it’s over. In small hurried phone
calls from the Munkle bathroom.”

Millie’s hand dropped. Calling her bluff
would not prove his mettle in her eyes. He had to see a serious
threat and then choose Brooke anyhow. “If you talk to…to…to Brooke
at all… I’ll send Michelle straight to Shope.” Her shoulders
hunched up, couldn’t help it. Why did an image of that bathroom
hallway flash, rewind, flash again inside her brain? Better yet,
why couldn’t she think enough to form words?

Elliott crossed his arms and slowly shook his
head. He closed his mouth and watched her, that damned half grin on
his face. She itched to slap him. But none of her could move as her
mind ran. Image to thought to possibility to conclusion. Her mouth
fell open. Impossible. It couldn’t be. Not Jason.

And Gordon?

“Yep,” Elliott said and he opened the door.
Pity shone brightly in his eyes.

“No.” Millie put her hand to her stomach. No.
Oh, crap, no, no, no, no, no.

“Yes.”

Jason’s longtime business partner, Zeke
Watts. So many business trips. Single hotel rooms. Then the
business dissolving. The divorce. The timing. Then the day at the
mall, Gordon showing up. Thanksgiving. The bathroom, the hallway.
Kissing.

Jason kissing…Gordon.

If there were a chair nearby, she’d have
fallen into it. Instead she sagged to the floor.

Gordon and Jason kissing. Oh, so much added
up. And she felt dumber than a pet rock. How did she miss so many
glaring signs? Jason wasn’t in love with Brooke. He might not ever
have been.

Her hands covered her mouth. Oh no. Did
Brooke know? Millie looked past her hands and only then realized
they were covering her face. Elliott had crouched in front of her.
Empathy softened his features. Understanding. Millie’s insides
coiled in anxiety.

He offered her a hand. She took it, glad to
have when she stood and felt her vision tip slightly. She leaned
against the wall. So this was what being knocked into next week
felt like.

“Does she know?”

“Brooke? No. I don’t think so. She hasn’t
said anything to me. Of course she hasn’t said much to me about her
past… or present.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Still up
for blackmailing me?”

Blackmail? More like bluff called. Throwing
around threats she’d never have acted on hadn’t seemed so risky a
moment ago. Even tossing Michelle’s name out had seemed safe. In
truth, she didn’t know if she could make the girl do anything even
with AJ’s help.

Now, Millie didn’t know what she was up for.
Her brain was swimming through panic and consequences. She’d gotten
it all wrong. Everything. She was going to fail Brooke. She was
going to lose AJ. She couldn’t even say if Elliott was worth
Brooke’s love.

If she didn’t leave now, she would puke in
front of Elliott. His kindness was like strong perfume on top of
her nausea of realization. It had her thinking all sorts of
impossible things. Like maybe he was the one for Brooke.

But how could she know, really know, he
wouldn’t end up hurting her?

“I need to find Brooke,” Millie said, his
question forgotten. “Do you know where she was going when she left
here?”

Elliott nodded. “Home.”

She didn’t bother saying goodbye or thanks or
another word. She couldn’t. Not with her guts wrenching and mind
twisting. She’d just laid some pretty healthy bullshit at his feet
and he’d been chivalrous.

He wasn’t exactly what she’d thought. Not
heroic, but not rotten. Not shallow. Fine. Good. So what? The
winter sun beat hot on her face. Her eyes and nostrils stung.
Someone’s wood burning stove stunk the air up. She strode down the
street to her car.

She had to find Brooke. No, wait. Think. What
would she say to her? Hey there, just came from threatening Elliott
to force him to dump you. Can you believe what he made me figure
out? Your ex-husband is in ‘the choir’. Yep, ‘the industry’. Light
in his loafers. Queer as a three dollar bill.

Gay. Debbie Bigmouth had gotten the subject
right, just the object wrong.

Millie knew why she had missed it. Neither
Gordon nor Jason gave off even a hint of pour homme scent. Well,
maybe Gordon. But Jason? Not at all. He was too corn-fed and jock
jawed. If a coming out party was Nancy’s plan tomorrow night, or
Jason’s for that matter, she couldn’t send Brooke in to be
blindsided.

How could she tell her pour homme though?

Oh, and what was I doing at your
boy toy’s
place? Following you. And how did I happen to
know anything about him? Because I’m a love spy. It’s your lucky
life, Brooke m’dear. You get to fall in love.

Right.

Home it was, then. To AJ. Was there a way to
turn this around and get Brooke matched with Elliott? A spark of
hope formed in her chest.

Once in her car, Millie’s phone rang. It was
Brooke.

Panic laced her voice. “Can you come
over?”

“Sure,” Millie said, ignoring her lower bowel
buck at the very idea. She needed to get her bearings around this
huge change of plans. “I can come by. When?”

“As soon as possible. Can you come now?”

Millie wouldn’t lie to herself. She couldn’t
go there until she had at least an hour’s worth of AJ pep talk. She
looked at the dashboard clock. Six o’clock already? Three days left
to losing him.

“Is seven-ish okay? I can bring take-out?”
and buy herself a little more time.

“That long?”

Millie winced. “Yeah. I’m tied up until then.
But you got me all night after, I promise. What’s going on?” Millie
just couldn’t resist asking.

“Oh, nothing life threatening. I just think
I’ve made a gigantic mistake and need your cool head to help me
figure out what to do next.”

“Sounds deep. Should I bring pizza and beer
or Chinese and sake bombers?”

“I don’t think I can eat. Bring wine, though.
I definitely am going to need lots of vino.”

Yeah. Millie, too. “Do I get a hint?”

“Only, if it will get you here faster.”

“Okay. It will.”

“How about, somebody is about to suffer a
very broken heart.” Dread weighted down Brooke’s voice.

Millie didn’t need to ask whose. Elliott’s
heart wasn’t just on his sleeve; it was in his eyes, in his voice.
Talk about head over heels. Ready to leap in, guts first. But
Brooke wasn’t in love with him. So much for a match. Millie hung up
and sped home, ready to run straight into AJ’s arms. She’d fall
into him, press her lips to his, and rip his clothes off. She’d beg
him not to talk or think. Plead with him to give in to her every
wish.

Then she’d help Brooke face Jason’s news,
help her let Elliott down gently. But that was it. Too late for
more. Elliott wasn’t the jerk she’d assumed, but Brooke was still
Brooke. And she had come out of her Elliott fog all on her own.

She let out a heavy sigh. Millie’s last three
days in this assignment were for AJ. If she had to say goodbye, she
would do so naked, moaning his name first.

If he’d have her.

Chapter Twenty-two

Millie dropped her coat to the floor. She
slid her shoes off. AJ was officially up to speed and looking
irresistible in his tattered jeans and snug T-shirt. The
desperation and self-disgust coursing through her had somewhat
diminished.

Standing there, waiting for him to react, the
realization that she was going to lose him overshadowed failing
Brooke. Unfortunately, her elocution hadn’t yet moved him, not even
the Jason-is-gay part. He tapped his fingers to his chin. His gaze
remained contemplative. Her gaze found his mouth and watched his oh
so kissable lips. Lips she longed for. She would soon be as alone
as the day she’d been sentenced. No Brooke, no AJ. No one.

“Have you considered the idea that Brooke
might be in love with Elliott?” AJ asked, breaking into her
reverie.

She needed to be near him. He backed away by
inches when Millie walked toward him. Could he sense what she hoped
to do? Did he feel her longing to disappear into sensation, into
him?

Millie strode toward him, her limbs buzzing
in anticipation. “No. She sounded panicked, not thrilled.”

AJ put the sofa between them. Short of
leaping over it and into his arms, she had to walk around. She took
her time. AJ was keeping his distance. After two years of innuendo
and flirtation, what if he rejected her?

“Elliott didn’t get angry when you threatened
his position?” AJ stepped back again, gestured like an attorney
addressing a jury. “He didn’t throw you out?”