Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (32 page)

But this was different. This note was hidden,
inside a gift left under cover of night, anonymously. When had he
imagined she would find it? Tomorrow? Brooke swallowed. Her head
swam. She edged the seal open, terrified and hopeful all at
once.

Let it be a love note. Not a goodbye. Let him
be too scared to speak his heart, but too overwhelmed to contain
it. Let this be what she hoped: love requited, declared, begged
for. Good news or bad, the details and possibilities were
gut-wrenchingly romantic, all the same. Her hands shook and her
head spun. She’d drunk too much wine. It was getting to her.
Emotional overload from Nancy and Elliott and Millie. She didn’t
feel like herself.

She felt desperate and elated all at
once.

On a deep breath, she wiped her cold nose and
read the typed words:

Brooke,

I’m not sure when you’ll find this.
Hopefully, it won’t get snowed or rained on. Or worse, sit there
for days on end. When you do find it, I hope you won’t think I’m
too much of a coward. I’m sure it looks cowardly. Feels a little,
too. But, hours upon hours of trying to figure out what to do, this
is the best I came up with.

You want to keep things simple. I
understand. I respect your wishes
,
even though they aren’t
in synch with my own. But, I can’t keep this from you, Brooke. It’s
not simple and I’m probably setting off a bomb and leaving you in
the shrapnel. In the end, I hope you’ll see I’m merely attempting
to be both honest with you and respectful of what is really none of
my business.

That said, or typed, in this case (I
couldn’t risk you misreading my words again), I won’t hold back.
Millie is not the kind of person you think she is and not the kind
of friend you deserve. As I write this, I hear how judgmental and
arrogant I sound. I can imagine you now, reading them, scrunching
up your face like you do when you’re offended. I’m sorry for
that.

But, what I wrote is true.

Fifteen minutes after you left today,
Mille arrived at my house, demanding I stop seeing you. At first, I
thought she was simply being overprotective. I know I’d be nervous
if my best friend were interested in someone with
an
age gap like ours. When I told Millie it was none of her
business, that what happened with us was between us, she threatened
me. Not physically, so don’t laugh. She told me she would not only
tell Shope about us, but she would also have Michelle lie to him.
Basically, she threatened to get me fired and in the process, ruin
my future and my reputation.

First, let me assure you, in no way have I
had any sort of romantic association with Michelle Shope. The
closest thing to romance between her and
me
was a
night of drinks at a bar, the day I met you, and I had my mind on
you the entire time. Nothing happened that night between Michelle
and
me
, unless you can count my unintentionally
leading her on. No flirtation, no goodnight kiss. Not then, not
ever. I need you to know that in case Millie plans to lie to you as
well to keep us apart.

Secondly, you matter more to me than a job.
If she follows through on her threats, so be it. I will have to
rely on my reputation, my integrity and the sound judgment of my
peers to see me through.

Forgive me for thinking it, Brooke, but part
of me is nervous. I can’t think of why your friend would take it
upon herself to threaten me in order to protect you. I also find
myself wondering if you knew or are somehow a part of this. I feel
sick even entertaining the idea. That’s just not you. I know you. I
see who you really are. Your heart and hopes and dreams. What I
don’t know is what to do here. I’m outside of familiar
territory.

I’ve never felt like this before.

I’ve never come between two friends
,
either. I imagine Millie must be like a sister to you and I
can’t say how badly I’d be hurt if Gordon or one of my brothers
pulled something similar. I don’t particularly want to. So, I’m
hoping you’ll appreciate my honesty and if you need me, know that
I’m here for you.

But, if for some reason, I never see you
again, I wanted you to have the box. I had hoped one day to become
close enough with you that I’d know what you would hide inside of
it, but I have vowed not to push you.

Sincerely,

Elliott

P.S. In case you don’t, I have an idea of
what you can keep in this box. But to find out what it is, you’ll
have to call me.

Brooke read the letter again, scanning and
pausing, her head abuzz. How could he accuse Millie of such a
thing? It was impossible. And, frankly, all too much. Millie hadn’t
even known what Elliott meant to her until tonight.

Why would Elliott make up such an ugly lie?
What was he trying to do to her? No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t
mad at him. Elliott’s words were tentative, kind. What he told her
hurt. And deep down, what he claimed suddenly didn’t feel so
impossible.

She didn’t want to believe it. Even in the
fog enveloping her brain, his words rang true. Elliott was no liar.
Which could only mean Millie knew about her relationship with
Elliott before today. How? Brooke had mentioned him only once or
twice prior to tonight. Sure, there were fireworks between them at
Thanksgiving, but Millie’d said little about any of it.

Millie was the liar. Millie had betrayed
her.

But why? How did Millie know about Elliott to
begin with, let alone care enough to blackmail him? Short of
following Brooke, spying on her, she shouldn’t have a clue. Her
brain struggled with the details.

She’d told Millie about the books over dinner
at Ramone’s. Elliott was there at Thanksgiving, and when Millie
spilled that latte at the Book Exchange. Brooke’s ankle ached.
Millie’s age comments. Millie suspected about Gordon being gay.
Millie showing up at Elliott’s house today? When? Before or after
Brooke had called her? Why go to such lengths? It all felt like a
bad movie she needed to get out of.

Why …how could Millie do this? She needed to
get into her apartment. She fumbled her keys to the lock again and
got them in. She paused, the effort taxing her.

Why wouldn’t Millie want Elliott and her to
be together? Why not simply warn Brooke instead? Brooke inhaled
sharply. What if Millie had discovered something damaging about
Elliott? What if Elliott had something to hide? What if his
association with Michelle wasn’t what he’d claimed at all? A
fake.

But, Brooke needed Elliott to be real! She
needed him in ways she couldn’t put into words. She needed to trust
him, to trust herself. A panic gripped her, making it hard to
breathe. The note trembled in her hand, the pages making crisp
papery sounds in the night air.

Her head ached. Somewhere nearby, a car
parked. What would she do now? What if she was wrong about Elliott?
What if he was right about Millie? What if Millie wanted Elliott
for herself? What if Millie was somehow obsessed with her?

Brooke had been so wrong about Jason. All
those years, she hadn’t seen him for who he really was, or herself
for who she really was. How could she trust anything now?

Maybe she couldn’t.

Tears escaped her eyes, sliding down her
cheeks. The smell of the dirt and the concrete pressed through the
cold. One thought penetrated her confusion: She had to find
Elliott. She needed his arms around her, his mouth on her.

How she’d get to him, she didn’t know.
Somehow.

Her keys hung from the lock and as she
reached to turn them, she felt how drunk she was. Her arms moved in
with jerking motions, like they couldn’t get to where she needed
them fast enough. Fuzzy heat washed through her. No way could she
drive like this. She would call a cab!

Her vision wobbled. How did Millie know about
Elliott? The doorknob gave in her hand, the door opened. What else
did she—?

“Hurry, AJ, she looks worse than I
thought.”

Recognizing Millie voice, Brooke peered up as
her body sagged through the doorway.

“Oh Brooke, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I
was thinking.” Suddenly Millie appeared, kneeling. Trying to help?
“AJ! Please hurry!”

Footsteps hammered down the concrete walk.
Brooke tried to focus, tried to find AJ’s form in the darkness, but
her vision grew blacker. Millie’s arms encircled Brooke, yet her
voice drew farther away. What was happening to her?

“Millie.” Brooke’s mouth was sticky. She
didn’t know who to trust. It hurt to speak. But she had to. “Don’t
leave. Get Elliott. I need—.”

Before she could hear an answer, the murky
blackness swallowed her up.

Chapter Twenty-five

“What do I do?” Millie demanded from the
backseat of the sedan, Brooke’s head cradled in her lap.

“You have to calm down, Millie,” AJ said,
veering the car out of Brooke’s complex. “You’re no use to her, or
to me, if you let yourself spin into a panic.”

Millie bit down, but nodded. AJ was right. Of
course he was right. She just needed him to keep talking. Keep
talking because she was at the edge of something. Terror, maybe. “I
thought you said the wine would be like a nudge!”

How could she have done this to Brooke?

“It should have been. I only infused my
typical levels. How much did you give her?” AJ asked, his voice
even.

“Two glasses. Why? Was there a limit?” Her
voice was shrill.

AJ sighed, clearly exasperated. “Maybe. Or,
perhaps she didn’t need a nudge at all.”

Millie winced. She was a selfish,
self-absorbed cow. She didn’t deserve Brooke’s friendship. She
didn’t deserve to keep AJ. This was why she’d been sentenced to
matchmaking hell for all eternity. All she’d ever done in her life
was hurt others in effort to try to protect them. Kiki had had good
reasons, too. But now, as Millie, she should know better.

Brooke looked deceptively peaceful
considering the chaos Millie had made of her life. Being passed out
on attraction-laden, hormone-infused wine certainly didn’t hurt.
But when Brooke woke, Millie fully anticipated an ugly
confrontation.

It hadn’t taken Millie long to pry the letter
from Brooke’s hands or to read it. Elliott had thrown Millie under
the bus. Well, she’d thrown herself there. So long as she didn’t
yet have to face her friend’s reaction, Millie could keep the
hideous betrayal at bay.

“Millie! Snap out of it!” AJ snapped his
fingers from the front seat.

He was right. She shook herself and focused.
They’d gotten Brooke to the car in record time. Now what? “Tell me
what to do.”

“Where is Elliott?” AJ said. His voice was
hard and even. In control. Thank God.

“I told you, I don’t know.” Elliott hadn’t
been home, the first place she’d gone before going back for AJ. If
she hadn’t listened to her gut about getting to Brooke…she wouldn’t
let herself consider what might have happened. “Should we go to an
ER? Should we pull over and call 911?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I
prepared for this. I’m going to an ER now, but only Elliott can
truly help her. How do we find Elliott?”

AJ predicted she’d screw up again? How could
she take that the wrong way? Yes, this was all her fault. Too much
dose, too little clarity, to see what was really happening right
there in front of her. Brooke falling in love.

“We need to find him, Millie! She isn’t
reacting well and an untreated surge like this could cause
complications.”

His urgency unglued her stuck thoughts and
realigned her attention. She had to fix this. She bent and grabbed
for Brooke’s purse. “What kind of complications?”

“I can’t be certain. It’s brain
chemistry.”

“So, what. A stroke? A coma?” Millie
demanded, rifling in the leather bag.

“If we locate Elliott, it won’t matter.”

“Gordon!” Millie said. Calling Elliott’s
cousin was a desperate last straw, but it was something. “If I can
locate Gordon, maybe I can get to Elliott.” She dug deeper through
the bag. Call Jason. He would get her to Gordon, wouldn’t he? “Now,
where the hell is Brooke’s phone?”

“Here,” AJ said, handing back Brooke’s cell.
Dropping the purse, Millie scrolled through the cell phone’s
phonebook. Jason’s name appeared. She hit dial. She prayed.

“Hello?” Jason answered.

“Jason?” Thank God and Jesus and everyone
else. “It’s Millie. I have an emergency.”

“What is it? What happened? Is Brooke
okay?”

She didn’t know what to tell him, but the
truth didn’t seem wise. “I can’t explain right now, but I need
Gordon’s phone number.”

“Gordon? What for?” He paused. Suspicion rang
in his voice. “I think I should talk to Brooke. My mom was by there
earlier. I need to know she’s alright.”

AJ sent Millie a five alarm warning look in
the rearview mirror. “Um, she can’t talk.”

“What do you mean she can’t talk?” Jason’s
tone nearly matched AJ’s expression.

Millie saw red. “Look, she sprained her ankle
and fainted and I’m taking her to the ER and I need Gordon’s phone
number! Now!” She might have to kill Jason Munkle.

The small silence that followed cheese-grated
her already shredded nerves. “Jason, if you don’t give me his
number, so help me—.” Well, she didn’t know what. Take his dirty
little secret and make sure every last person in the next three
counties knew it? “Brooke is passed out, in pain and I need to get
her to Elliott Jovovich. You know, your boyfriend’s cousin? She’s
in love with him and they’ve been having a torrid affair and—”

“Alright, alright! I get it.”

“Then give me Gordon’s num—.”

“I’m trying to,” he shouted back.

Millie realized she’d been near screaming.
Worse, AJ was looking more pissed, not less.
Oh, Brooke, please
just survive this and hate me forever.
Brooke didn’t stir.