dress. “That’s a great idea, darling, and maybe on our way home I can convince you to add a little more color to your wardrobe.” She scrunched up her face at the black pantsuit Kristen wore.
“Black is a color, Mother.”
“No, it’s not. Black is a statement.”
“It’s in the coloring box,” Kristen said sarcastically. “What about Travis? He’s wearing black jeans and a black shirt. I don’t hear you threatening him with a lesson on the coloring wheel.”
“We’re not talking about your brother,” she declared, hugging and kissing her son and nephew before walking out of the conference room with her daughter on her heels.
Brice dropped down in his chair and accepted the glass his brother offered. “Thanks, A.”
“You okay?” Alexander stood, swirling his drink in his glass.
“Not really,” Brice admitted.
“Well, you need to do whatever you have to so you can get okay. You have got to pull it together. Another performance like that one and I’ll fire you myself,” he said, tossing back his drink.
Brice mirrored his brother’s actions, allowing the gold liquid to slide down his throat, hoping it would burn some sense into him. “I will. I guess it was just the shock of knowing no matter what I did or said, I couldn’t get my wife to even talk to me, yet my mother was able to convince her to come back to work for us. It’s as if nothing ever happened between us, let alone a marriage.”
“You know I understand how you feel, but you have to rise above it. You have a job to do,” Alexander reminded Brice.
“You know what you need.” Travis smiled like he had a secret he was dying to spill.
“What’s that?” Brice knew he shouldn’t ask, but at this point, he needed all the help he could get.
“You should find a bar and look for something soft and sweet to spend the night with. Lose yourself in someone for a while before you have to see Brooke again.” Travis shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt.”
The mere idea of being with another woman sexually was making his stomach hurt. He had just given himself permission to have drinks with another woman. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Let’s go, Travis. He needs a minute,” Alexander observed.
Brice leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His mind flashed back to the last time he had seen Brooke: after he’d returned home from getting her favorite meal, only to find that she’d left him via a short note. It had taken Brice nearly two months to convince Eddie, the husband of Brooke’s best friend, to help him in his efforts to find his wife. When he found out she was in Paris, he flew over to try and figure out what was really going on. He hadn’t bought her explanation that they had gotten married too fast and that she wasn’t ready to settle down. Brooke’s actions during their six-month marriage told him the very opposite. They had even started having discussions about starting a family.
Brice remembered exactly how he’d felt the day he walked into the restaurant of the Hôtel Barrière Le Fouque along the Champs-élysées, one of Paris’s most historic locations. The café was decorated with studio style portraits of popular actors and directors from several decades. The tables, accompanied by red velvet chairs, were dressed in fine white linen, expensive porcelain china and crystal. The room screamed romance and he knew Brooke would have loved it.
When Brice had spotted Brooke sitting at a table, holding up her head with her left hand, gazing into the eyes of another man he hadn’t recognized who was caressing her wrist, his blood boiled as he stood out of her view watching and he knew his marriage was over. The pain of that memory jolted him forward. “No, she wasn’t ready to settle down. It’s time to move on.”
Brooke sat on the balcony of her suite at Houston’s Hotel ZaZa, located in the heart of the museum district. She smiled in spite of the ache in her heart at the memories of all the times she and Brice had enjoyed their weekends getting lost in the cultural experiences there. Brooke still couldn’t believe she had found a man who enjoyed what some found to be geeky activities—exploring museums and enjoying live performances in the park—as much as she did. She sipped her coffee and nibbled on different pastries as she watched the sunrise spread its rays over the city when she heard her door lock turn.
She heaved a sigh because she knew the silence of her morning was now over. “Good morning, Lori,” she called out. Lori Murphy was Brooke’s executive assistant and one of the few people she actually called a friend. Growing up in the foster care system made it difficult for Brooke to get close to people.
“Good morning. It’s seven o’clock—why aren’t you dressed yet?” Lori questioned as she walked out onto the balcony in a gray suit and matching heels, her sandy blond hair in a tight bun.
“You look nice,” Brooke complimented.
“Thanks. Shouldn’t you get a move on?” Lori encouraged.
“I just needed a little more time with my friends calm and quiet before we have to take on the Kingsleys again. You know how daunting it can be, working for that family,” she teased.
“I still don’t understand why you accepted this assignment. May I?” she asked, admiring the many types of bread and fruits Brooke had to offer.
“Yes, of course.” Brooke pushed the room service cart toward Lori. “I had no choice. We’re still under contract with Kingsley Oil and Gas. A fact she reminded me of when she called me in Paris. Victoria’s not the type of businesswoman to let someone walk away from a commitment because the situation may be a little uncomfortable.”
“You’re right about that, but she did set you up in a nice place. This balcony with a two-person tub and bed-like lounge seating is fantastic and awfully romantic. I’d kill to have those black-and-white chandeliers,” she proclaimed, looking over her shoulder into the living room. Lori started eating her food as she walked back into the suite.
Brooke rose from her seat and followed after her. “Yes, she did. This place screams Victoria. It’s pure over-the-top luxury.”
“Don’t forget about that beautiful black ceiling,” she reminded Brooke, looking up.
“How could I?” She tightened her robe.
Lori popped a piece of fruit in her mouth. “Why’d she put you up in a hotel, anyway? And why here when there’s a chain hotel right across from their building?”
“This is one of the Kingsleys’ investment properties and providing accommodations is part of the contract.”
“I know but I think you should go back to your house.”
“That’s Brice’s house now. I left, remember?”
“I realize that,” Lori said, shaking her head. “You could’ve stayed with me, you know.”
“I know, but we see enough of each other working together. Speaking of work, is everything ready?”
“Everything
