Be My Forever Bride. Martha KennersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
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 but you,” Lori answered, checking her watch.
“I’ll go change.” Brooke walked into the bedroom and looked down at the navy blue St. John long sleeve notched-collar suit jacket and its matching short sleeve dress and moaned. Over the last few months, Brooke had begun to dress more casually since she’d taken on a smaller less public role within the company. “This outfit is conservative and professional, just the way Victoria prefers it.”
Brooke removed her robe and pulled her dress over a lace La Perla bra and underwear set. They gave her an added level of confidence and it was her sexy secret...a secret that used to be hers and Brice’s. The thought sent a wave of sadness through her body that she had to immediately shake off before it took root. She slipped her feet into a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes and twirled in the mirror and said, “Welcome back... Some things never change.”
She moved to the bathroom where she pulled her hair up into a tight bun and lightly made up her face. Brooke looked down at the three medicine bottles that sat next to her multi-vitamins and birth control pill and released an audible sigh. “Well, almost...”
“Knock-knock,” Lori called out before she entered the room.
“I’m ready,” Brooke replied, stepping out of the bathroom.
“Wow, you look great.”
“Thanks. Good thing you insisted on the new wardrobe. My old business clothes would have never fit thanks to those fifteen pounds I never intended to lose,” she confessed, walking back into the living room where she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Too bad Victoria won’t adopt a more business casual approach at the office.”
“Yeah, too bad.” Brooke tossed back her handful of meds and washed them down with the orange juice.
“The car is here and Damon is already at the office,” Lori advised. Damon Watts was a tax specialist and associate at Brooke’s consulting firm. “That should go over well with Brice.” Brooke grabbed her purse and briefcase. “Let’s go.”
The short ride from Brooke’s hotel to the Kingsley offices was over in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Brooke exited the town car and stood in front of the office, looking up at the fifty-story glass building. “This place makes me feel so small,” she said to herself. In more ways than one.
“I know. You can’t even see the top floors for the clouds,” Lori observed.
“Let’s get this over with.” Both women walked into the lobby with their heels clicking on the black-and-white marble floors, announcing their presence to the guards.
“This place isn’t nearly as busy as I remembered,” Lori stated, as they approached the guard station that sat in front of a giant water wall.
“Of course not—it’s nearly nine. Everyone here starts work between seven and eight,” Brooke explained.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kingsley,” the guard greeted.
Brooke had the urge to turn to see if Victoria or Elizabeth was standing behind her but she knew better. She knew exactly whom the guard was addressing as he smiled down at her. If that wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the tingling that ran down her spine to her private parts most certainly was. “Good morning.”
“Here