To Have And To Hold: The Wedding Belles Book 1 (15 page)

“How’d you and Neil meet?” she asked, even as she silently screamed at Seth for planting the seed of doubt in her mind.

True love did exist. It
did
.

She needed it to. Needed to know that what had happened with Clay was a fluke, and that there was hope for her to fall in love and get married and have happily ever after.

“Oh my gosh,” Maya started gushing. “It was totally one of those random moments where you know it’s just meant to be. I was at Starbucks, waiting for my usual triple grande two-pump vanilla, one-pump almond latte, and when the barista set it on the counter, I went to reach for it just as he went to reach for it, thinking it was his.”

Brooke blinked. “You ordered the exact same drink?”

It wasn’t that odd, she supposed, given Starbucks’s popularity, but Maya’s drink order was a unique one. Quite the coincidence.

“Yes! Weird, right? I’ve never met anyone who likes the same drink as me, and then he ends up behind me in line at Starbucks, and he’s hot.”

Apparently, Seth Tyler was officially all up in Brooke’s head, because it took all of her self-control not to point out that if Neil had been in line behind her,
he very well could have heard her order and repeated it as an excuse to talk to her.

But Brooke was a wedding planner, and wedding planners sold romance just as much as they did their organizational skills, so she merely smiled and asked what happened next.

Maya lifted her shoulders. “We got to talking. He asked me out, and I said yes. And then he kept asking me out, and I kept saying yes. And then he asked me to marry him, and . . . well, I said yes to that, too.”

Brooke blinked. “That’s . . .”

“Boring?” Maya said with a smile.

“No, I was going to say that that’s very, um, efficient.”

Maya laughed. “Efficient. You remind me of my brother, only he’s not so pleased with my efficiency.”

“It’s pretty typical older-brother stuff,” Brooke said. “You can’t blame him for being a little overprotective. Especially with how quickly everything happened.”

“I just don’t know how to explain to him that he and I don’t . . . we don’t want the same things.”

“How so? What do you want?” Brooke asked, genuinely wanting to know what made this contradictory woman tick. One moment she was all bubbles and romance, and the next she was almost startlingly pragmatic.

“I want to get married,” Maya said unabashedly. “I’m tired of the socialite scene. I mean, I’m sure I’ll always do that a bit, and don’t get me wrong, I do love the nice stuff, but I’m tired of dating. I’m even more tired of the lonely nights. And I want babies,
and I want to bake cookies, and I want . . .” Her voice trailed off as she circled the stem of her wineglass with her manicured fingers.

“You want something real,” Brooke said.

“Yes,” Maya said enthusiastically. “That’s exactly it. I want something real. Something that will be there even if the money and the penthouse were to disappear.”

“And that thing—that’s Neil?”

Maya’s smile was a little forced. “The way you keep mentioning Neil’s name. It’s like there’s something you want me to say that you haven’t heard yet.”

Whoops
. Brooke should have known better than to go down this path. Her friends were always joking about what a bad actress she was, and Maya had clearly seen right through her plan. Well, Seth’s plan.

It was time to get honest. Really honest.

Just not about what Maya expected her to be honest about.

“I’m sorry,” Brooke said, reaching across the table and touching her fingers to Maya’s arm. “I’m letting my own issues taint your happiness, and I shouldn’t.”

“Issues?”

Brooke blew out a breath and decided to give Maya the truncated version. “So you know that I’m new to New York, but you don’t know why.”

“Because you moved here to join the Belles.”

“Yes,” Brooke said, tracing a nail around her cocktail napkin. “But the truth is, I didn’t have much of a choice after my own career went belly-up back in LA.”

“What happened?”

Brooke
sipped her wine. “Let’s just say the biggest wedding job of my life—my own—ended up as front-page news after my fiancé was taken away in handcuffs.”

Maya’s eyes went huge. “Holy crap. I heard that story. Oh my gosh, I thought you looked familiar, but I totally did not put two and two together.” This time it was Maya who reached across the table. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

Brooke forced a smile. “Me too. But it’s not fair for me to let my own experiences with Clay taint your experiences with Neil.”

“Oh, Neil’s nothing like that,” Maya said automatically.

Well, of course you don’t think so
, Brooke thought to herself with a surprising hint of bitterness. Nobody supposes their fiancé is anything other than what they want them to be.

“Does my brother know?” Maya asked curiously.

“No,” Brooke said quickly. “And I’d really appreciate it if you kept this between us girls.”

“Happy to,” Maya agreed. “Plus, it’ll be much more fun this way. You’ll be like a sexy puzzle he’ll want to solve himself.”

Brooke grunted in skepticism.

Maya laughed. “When are you seeing him next?”

Brooke glanced at her watch. “Tonight, actually. I’m supposed to meet him at his office at five thirty, and then we’re doing dinner.”

Maya wiggled her eyebrows. “And what about after dinner?”

“There is no after dinner. It’s a business meeting.”

“Poor
Brooke,” Maya said, patting Brooke’s hand. “I don’t think you realize just how much trouble you’re in.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say when my brother wants something, he gets it. Always.”

I
T
WASN’T UNTIL
B
ROOKE
was a full eleven minutes late to their meeting that Seth had the uncomfortable realization that he didn’t have her phone number.

Here he’d been, obsessed for days with the prospect of seeing her again—of having her to himself—and he didn’t even know how to text her.

He glanced at the clock. Five forty-two.

She didn’t seem like the type to be late. Was she going to stand him up?

There was a brief knock at the door, and he sat up straight from where he’d been semi-slouched in his office chair, only to slump again when he saw that it wasn’t Brooke coming through the door.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you acting like you’re seventeen again?” his assistant asked as she strode into his office as though she owned the place. And sometimes it felt like she did. Etta Manza had salt-and-pepper hair, almond-shaped hazel eyes, and the build and personality of a linebacker. Seth didn’t know how old she was. He’d known her since he was
a kid doing homework at her desk, and she’d always just seemed “sixty, give or take twenty years.” Neither did Seth know how his father had found her; God knew she wasn’t the clichéd prim and proper secretary of her day.

He’d never been more grateful than the Monday morning after the funeral when he’d wandered into the office feeling a little bit sad and a whole lot lost and seen Etta just sitting behind her desk, her red-rimmed eyes the only signal that something was different.

Then she’d made him a cup of strong black coffee, set it in front of him, and told him he had a conference call with the German office in ten.

They’d never talked about her staying on as his assistant; it had been a foregone conclusion. But she was more than that to him. It wouldn’t be quite right to describe Etta as a mother figure. She’d never be the type to make a warm cup of tea or homemade muffins. But she’d pour him a shot of whisky when he needed it. Listened when he didn’t even realize he needed to talk.

But right now, at this moment, Etta was absolutely not who he wanted to see.

“Have there been any calls this afternoon?” he asked, ignoring her question.

“No, none,” she said. “We’re one of the largest hotel chains on the planet, but no phone calls. No emails, either. I’ve just been playing spider solitaire all day.”

His glare was meant to show her exactly what he thought of her sarcasm, but Etta had always been one
of the few people to remain unfazed by his moods, and she didn’t flinch.

“You going to answer my question?” she asked.

“What question?”

She crossed her arms and studied him. “You couldn’t get off your four o’clock fast enough. I rescheduled after-hours calls and canceled your business dinner with Pete Corella and his wife.”

“So?”

“So. You and Nadia back on?”

Nadia?

It took Seth a second to reorient his thoughts to his ex-girlfriend.

“No,” he said curtly. “Nadia and I are over. Who’s manning the phones?”

“Jared.”

“Who the hell is Jared?”

Etta jerked her head back toward the main reception area. “My new intern. You met him last week.”

“Oh. Right. Tall, skinny, a little hyper? Tries to give me vitamins every morning?”

“That’s the one. You expecting a call, Sethy?”

He spun slightly in his chair and refused to answer.

She turned her head slightly and called over her shoulder. “Jared, you get any calls from a woman looking for Seth?”

There was the sound of a chair toppling over, and a tall blond kid appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath. “What was that, Ms. Manza?”

Seth rolled his eyes. He was surprised the intern didn’t salute.

“At
ease, Intern,” Etta said, echoing Seth’s thoughts. “Did a young lady call for the boss recently?”

“Ahhhhhhhh.” Jared’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling as though he was mentally going through the last phone calls. “No, ma’am. There have been four phone calls since you left your desk, none from women. But earlier today, there were plenty from women. Shall I go back through the call log and print out a list? I can even—”

“Jared. You got a girlfriend? Boyfriend?” Etta interrupted.

“Yes, ma’am. Me and my girlfriend, Sammi, have been dating since high school.”

“Which was what, yesterday?” Seth muttered.

“Well, think back to how it was before Sammi responded to the note you left in her locker,” Etta prompted.

“Oh, I messaged her,” Jared interrupted. “On Snapchat. Or was it Twitter?” he mused.

Etta held up a hand. “Do I look like I’m up on the latest social media trends? Be quiet and listen. Think back to how it was before you and your girl got together. Did your face look an awful lot like this?” She pointed at Seth.

Jared glanced nervously at Seth for the first time since coming into the office. “Ah, yes, ma’am. I’d say I did have that look.”

Seth threw up his hands. “What look?”

“That special mix of blue balls and puppy eyes,” Etta said smugly.

Seth grunted. “That’s not what’s going on here.”

“With all due respect, sir . . .” Jared said.

Seth
cut the younger man off with a searing glare, and he backed out of the office, all but bowing before returning to his desk.

“Don’t take it out on him that some girl stood you up,” Etta said.

Seth glanced at the clock on his computer. She was now nearly half an hour late. It was just as well. Maybe she’d chickened out, or forgot, or simply decided to back out of their deal. Maybe now he could finally stop thinking about her lush curves and big blue eyes . . .

“Excuse me, Mr. Tyler?” Jared said, coming back into the doorway.

Christ
. “What?”

“Downstairs reception just called. Said there’s a Ms. Baldwin here to see you, but I don’t have anything on the calendar.”

“Send her up,” Seth said, sitting up straight.

Before he could catch himself, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth some of the unpredictable waves, only to realize his mistake.

Etta made a crowing noise. “I knew it. My little Seth does have a crush. Who is this Ms. Baldwin, pray tell?”

“It’s a business meeting, Etta. She’s Maya’s wedding planner, and we’re simply getting together to discuss the financials of the upcoming nuptials.”

“Oh, honey. I know you’re in trouble when you start using words like
nuptials
.”

Seth looked pointedly at the door, but although he knew full well that Etta understood the hint, she made no effort to move. Instead, she tilted her head
and studied him before giving a brief nod. “It’s good to see you like this.”

“Like what? Irritated?”

“You’re always irritated,” Etta said matter-of-factly. “No, what I mean is, it’s nice to see you
alive
.”

Seth had been in the process of straightening his tie, but his eyes flew to the older woman. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Her expression was just a little bit sad as she gave him a pointed look. “I think you know exactly what that means.”

She turned on the heels of the brown loafers she wore every day and marched out of the room, leaving Seth to stare after her.

What did she mean, I’m alive?
Seth thought angrily as he turned to face the window and gather his thoughts.

Of course he was alive. He was thriving. He exercised daily, had the sort of high-powered, successful career that most men could only dream about. He had every necessity, every luxury. There was nothing else he possibly needed.