Shine Your Love on Me (6 page)

“Don’t play little miss virgin with me. You
were sleeping with Lloyd Simmons.”

“Lloyd is single. And that’s none of your
business.”

“So, you refuse?”

“Damn right, I do.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Fine. This
is your last week.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” He turned to his desk.

“You can’t do that. It’s against the
law.”

“Your word against mine. And since we were
keeping you beyond what we could afford, out of the kindness of our
hearts, doesn’t look too good for you, does it?” He raised one
eyebrow and shot her a frigid stare.

“Why, you cold-hearted—”

“Watch it! Right now, I’m giving you
severance. One more word and that’s gone. You’ll leave today.” He
turned his attention back to a paper on top of the pile on his
credenza. “This meeting is over.”

Brooke thought she’d explode. Words of anger
filled her head. She didn’t remember walking back from his office
to her desk. Tears of indignation stung her eyes.
Not gonna cry.
Not gonna let him have the satisfaction.
She packed up,
determined to leave for the rest of the day, until an email from
Lloyd popped up.

Please come to my office ASAP.

The last thing Brooke wanted was to meet with
Lloyd, but she went. A deep, shuddering breath before she entered
calmed her some. She sat in the chair opposite while Lloyd finished
a telephone conversation. She chewed on a nail, trying to contain
her anger, thinking about the words she’d use to describe the
sleazy Mr. Pete Walters.

Lloyd clicked his cell shut. His blue eyes
looked at her with sympathy. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He got
up and fiddled with the thermostat. “It’s hot in here, don’t you
think?”

“What’s up?” She watched him closely.

“I’m sorry, Brooke. I have to do this.”

“What?”

“Take you through the process.”

Her stomach knotted. “What process?”

“The firing process. At least I was able to
keep personnel out of it. Pete agreed to let me do this
one-on-one.”

“Firing process?” Her eyebrows rose along
with the timber of her voice.

“Keep your voice down, or they’ll call
security.”

“Let ’em! Call the press!”

“What the hell? What did you say to him,
anyway?”

“I turned down his proposition—his request to
fuck me.”

Lloyd paled. “He didn’t…did he?”

“Yes, he did. He knew about us. Thank you for
that, big mouth. He wanted his turn in my bed.”

“Oh my God. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll bet you are. But not as sorry as I am
now that I’ve lost my job.” A tightness in her chest traveled to
the back of her eyes.

“He can’t do that.”

“But he did, Lloyd, didn’t he? My word
against his.”

“That’s disgusting.” He gazed into her face,
and she saw he meant it. “But there’s nothing I can do about
it.”

Lloyd, can this be true? Are you really
going to fire me?

She sighed. “I know. I’ve got a few leads on
a new job.”

“Thank God. Good girl.” He smiled and wiped
his brow with a handkerchief.

“Haven’t found anything, but I will. Can I
use you as a reference?”

He paled again. “The standard policy is to
simply confirm how long you’ve worked here and give no opinion
about your performance. Pete specifically told me he’d give you a
bad reference if you used him.”

“What? He can’t do that.” She rose out of her
chair.

“He can. And he will. Just use me.”

“Will he be okay with that?”

“I don’t care. This sucks. I can’t let you go
without a reference.”

“Will he fire you if he finds out?”

“I doubt it. Seems he’s a little hot headed.
Think he’d never been turned down by a girl before.” Lloyd tapped a
pencil on his desk.

“Maybe he hasn’t.”

“I’m glad you’re not going to sleep with
him.”

“I didn’t sleep with you to get ahead.”

“I know,” he said, reaching across to squeeze
her hand for a moment. “Wish we were still on.”

“Best for me to make a clean break.”

“Probably. But I’ll call you, anyway. In case
you change your mind.”

She smiled at him. “Never knew you had a
sweet streak.”

“You bring it out in me. I’m a real hardass,
most of the time.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Lloyd presented her with the paperwork. She
read it and signed.

“Friday’s your last day. You’ll be paid a
month’s severance plus vacation time. You don’t really have to come
in, if you don’t want to.”

“Okay. I’ll pack up today and pick my stuff
up on Monday.”

“If you get lonely over the weekend,
call.”

Brooke frowned. “Won’t you be spending it
with Lady Gray?”

“Not all of it. She’s actually not bad once
you get to know her.”

“In the biblical sense,” Brooke muttered.

“I heard that. Look, I’m trying to help you.
To be nice. Don’t be nasty in return.”

“Nice? You’re firing me. Let’s understand who
has the right to be upset here. I’m the one losing my job over
nothing, not you. At least allow me to be pissed off. And you’ve
been unfaithful, sleeping with Lady Gray whatever-her-name-is.”

“We never said we were exclusive.”

“I was and assumed you were, too. My mistake.
As for who’s warming your bed now? It’s no longer my concern.”

“Your decision.”

“Right.” She stood up and shook his hand. He
leaned over to kiss her, but she turned her head, so his lips only
brushed her cheek.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way.
Walters is a rat bastard.”

“At least I’ll never have to deal with him
again.”

They exchanged smiles, and she left.

Back at her desk, depression, fear, and worry
descended upon her. Tears threatened.
Not gonna cry here. Not
gonna give that creepy bastard the satisfaction.
She snatched
her jacket off the back of her chair and headed for home.

After moping around her apartment all
weekend, eating ice cream, watching romantic movies, and crying
herself to sleep, on Sunday, Brooke mustered the strength to shower
and put on a flower-print cotton dress in lilac and turquoise on a
white background. The bright colors cheered her. She sensed her
mother’s loving spirit nearby. Brooke stopped at Bob’s Bagels on
Columbus and picked up an assortment plus smoked salmon and
whitefish spread before heading over to Nan’s for brunch.

Her heart was heavy as she rode up the
elevator, dreading breaking the news to her grandmother.
Am I a
failure at twenty-eight?
Dragging herself to the door, she
heard the sound of laughter.
Couldn’t be Nan’s?
She rang the
bell and was surprised when Pres opened the door. The barking pugs
gave her a big greeting, jumping up and licking her face when she
bent down.

“Come on in. It’s a party.” Pres took her
heavy bag and headed for the kitchen.

“Brooke, darling, I’m so glad you’re here!
We’re having a little birthday party for Mary. We’re not saying how
old she is, but it’s a big one.”

Brooke walked into the dining area and was
greeted by four people. A tall, gorgeous cake frosted in white and
sprinkled with coconut sat in the middle of the table. Nan took
Brooke’s arm and folded it in with hers.

“This is my beautiful granddaughter, the
light of my life, Brooke Felson.” Each member of the group either
raised a hand in greeting or called out to her. She tried to smile
back as Nan rattled off each name. As soon as Nan let go, Brooke
retreated to the kitchen, where Pres was unpacking the bag.

“Are you going to put this out?”

“I don’t have enough for seven people. I
wasn’t expecting a party.”

“Neither was Ruth. They just showed up.”

“Just showed up? Some nerve,” Brooke
said.

“It’s nice. They know she’s got a big place,
and she’s friendly. Ruth was happy to have them. Besides, look at
that cake.” He licked his lips.

Brooke put her hand over her eyes. “I’m not
having the best day today.”

“Get over yourself. Today isn’t about you,
Brooke. It’s about Mary. Can’t you put aside petty crap for her
sake?”

Brooke looked up into his eyes. “I got fired
on Friday.” Once said aloud, the reality of it hit her again. Tears
threatened.

“Holy shit. No.” Pres stopped.

“I got propositioned by the president of the
company. I turned him down, and he fired me.”

“No way! Damn. I can’t believe that actually
happens in real life.”

“It does. It happened to me. I don’t know
what I’m going to do.”

“Whatever you do, don’t tell them. You’ll
bring them down.”

She glanced into the dining room. Three women
and two men sat at the table drinking coffee and tea and laughing.
“You’re right.” She blinked rapidly as she laid out the food on a
platter.

Pres pulled out a handkerchief and handed it
to her. As she wiped her eyes, emotion choked her. Covering her
face, she cried. Pres pulled her to him and turned his back to the
doorway, shielding her. He held her close, stroking her head.

“You’re smart. You’ll find something else,”
he whispered.

Brooke leaned into him. The fragrance of his
clean T-shirt mixed with his scent and a pine aftershave calmed
her. She rested her palms flat against his chest, enjoying the
hardness of his pecs. “You have friends. You’re strong. You’ll be
fine.”

He’s right. I’ll be okay. Somehow, I’ll get
through this.

“I’m here, any time you need me.” His words
were like a balm to her raw spirit. He emanated a healing vibe,
strong and warm. She snuggled into him. Pres didn’t move.

“Hey, you two, get a room or get out here! We
wanna cut the cake,” Harry called.

Brooke stepped back and snapped to attention.
Pres smiled down at her. “We’re giving that old man ideas.”

“We’d better go. Thank you.” She grinned up
at him, her eyes dry. “Am I all red and splotchy?”

“You look beautiful. Tell Harry I gave you a
sex flush.”

Brooke laughed. Pres followed her back to the
others, cradling the platter of smoked fish in his big hands.

“Novie and whitefish!” Sam’s face lit up.

“I’m sorry there isn’t more. I didn’t know
you all were coming,” Brooke said.

“There’s enough. At this age, all I need is a
taste,” said Sylvia.

“Oh my, Mary, did you bake this?” Brooke
asked.

“Damn right. A seven-layer white cake with
coconut frosting. My favorite.”

“Watcha waitin’ for? The next millennium? Cut
the damn thing already. I’m not getting any younger,” Harry
said.

Mary shot him an evil look and picked up the
knife. “Just for that, I’m serving you last.”

“Come on, woman! Don’t you know a compliment
when you see one?” Harry asked.

“A compliment is about how nice you
look.”

“Okay. You look fantastic. Now gimme a piece
of that cake. I’m dyin’ over here. I’ve been drooling over that
thing for half an hour already!” He shoved a plate at her.

“No. Sam gets the first piece, because he’s
been waiting quietly.” Mary cut a large slice and handed it to
Sam.

“What do I have to do? Beg? Sing like Frank
Sinatra or Barbra Streisand?” Harry thrust his plate toward Mary
again.

She took it this time. “Sure would be
something if you could sing like Barbra, Harry.” She chuckled.

The table got quiet for a moment as everyone
tucked into their food. The banter of Nan’s senior friends took
Brooke away from her troubles and made her laugh. She soaked up
their warmth and humor before splitting a second piece of cake with
Pres.

“So, when are you two getting married
already?” Harry asked.

“Harry!” Nan said. “They’re not even
dating.”

“They should be. They look good together. You
heard it here first.” Harry sat back.

“Quiet, old man. Can’t you see you’re
embarrassing her?” Sylvia said.

Harry folded both hands over his mouth and
winked at Brooke. Pres’s face was red as a beet, and Brooke
wondered if she looked the same.

Then, thankfully, Harry and Sam started a
discussion about politics.

“This new mayor doesn’t know a thing,” Harry
said.

“I suppose you could do a better job?”

“Just give me the chance. I couldn’t do
worse.”

The women laughed at him. “Harry’s always the
butt of the joke,” Sylvia said, turning to Brooke.

“Can I help it if I’m naturally funny?”

The party was interrupted by two barks and a
pug scratching at the door. Pres checked his watch. “Time to take
the dogs out. I’m going to get Buddy.”

“I’ll take Freddy and Ginger,” Brooke said,
pushing to her feet. Harry wiggled his eyebrows at Brooke and
smiled.
He’s pretty charming, for an old guy.

“So, Brooke, if you’re not marrying Pres, how
’bout marrying me?” That brought down the house.

Pres fastened the dogs to their leashes and
left with Brooke.

“I’ll go with you to get Buddy,” she said,
falling into step with him.

“I only live a block away.”

“Good. Harry is hysterical,” Brooke said,
shaking her head.

“Feeling better?” he asked when they reached
his door.

“Who could stay depressed around those
guys?”

“Not me. By the way, I wasn’t expecting
female company,” Pres cautioned, fitting his key in the lock.
“There might be some underwear, empty beer cans…”

“Saying you’re a bit of a pig, Mr.
Carpenter?”

“Yeah,” Pres chuckled, pushing the door open.
He went in first to switch on the light and grabbed boxers sitting
on a chair and a few beer cans on the coffee table.

“Basement apartment. Not bad,” Brooke said,
as she strolled through the hallway before getting to the living
room.

“Yeah, I started out as the super. But when I
sold my movie, I quit and kept the apartment.”