Be My Forever Bride

“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 are your credentials and security pass,” he explained, handing them to Brooke.

“Thank you.”

The guard turned to Lori. “Miss Murphy, I assume?”

“Yes, I’m Lori Murphy.”

“These are for you. Mr. Watt has arrived already.”

“Thank you,” Lori replied, clipping her badge to her jacket.

“Please follow me to the elevators.” The guard swiped his pass in front of the keypad and the elevator door opened. “As a reminder, Mrs. Kingsley, please enter the elevator one at a time.”

Brooke thanked him before they entered. Lori followed her in and when the doors closed, she asked, “What was that all about?”

“Additional security. The doors activate the body-scanning device. That’s why there’s a slight pause before we start moving,” she explained, hitting the buttons to the forty-eighth and fiftieth floor.

“Wow, they take their security around here very seriously.”

“Yes they do. The Kingsleys have a lot to protect,” she mumbled.

“How do you feel?”

Brooke could see the concern written all over Lori’s face. “I’m fine. We’ll be in and out of here in a few weeks and then it’s back to Paris.”

“I still can’t believe you’re moving your base to Paris.”

Brooke shrugged. “With the success of my business, I can work anywhere, so why not France?”

The elevator came to a stop on the forty-eighth floor. Brooke handed her things to Lori. “You not coming?” Lori asked with a deep frown.

“I can’t put this off any longer. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Lori stepped out of the elevator and Brooke plastered on a fake smile, hoping to calm her friend’s fears while she stood and watched the doors close. Brooke knew how worried Lori would be at the thought of her being alone with Brice. Lori understood how Brooke’s unresolved feelings for him could induce a negative physical reaction. However, Brooke also knew that if she didn’t address the very large elephant in the building first thing this morning, her time there would be even more difficult.

* * *

Brice stood in front of his vertical desk that sat on the left side of his traditional mahogany one in front of the wall of windows. He was trying to concentrate on the documents before him but failing measurably. He’d barely gotten four hours of sleep the night before, anticipating seeing Brooke again. It had been three months since she left him and a month since he’d seen her in Paris. Brice was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions, none of which he could seem to bring under control.

“Excuse me, boss,” his beautiful and curvy research assistant interrupted, standing in his doorway.

Brice smiled at the tall and lovely sight before him. A fact that others had pointed out in hopes that he would consider dating her and move on from Brooke. Most people couldn’t see past her beauty to her brilliant mind. “Come in, Amy.”

“Everything’s set up for Mrs. Kingsley and her team’s arrival.”

Amy’s words were like a shot to the gut. He used to love it when people addressed his wife by his last name. Now, hearing it was like nails on a chalkboard. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Yes, actually.” Brice handed her a list of cases he needed researched. “Those are all relevant to the new pipeline. We need to make sure we cover our bases with the affected communities. We don’t want the EPA back in our lives.”

Amy smiled. “Really? I thought you wanted to handle that project on your own.”

Brice moved to his stationary desk, sat down and fired up his computer. “Yeah, well, I’m a little distracted,” he admitted, which was an understatement. “Also, can you call my cousin Kristen and tell her I’ll need to take a rain check on dinner tonight?”

“Sure thing, and I’ll be down the hall in the law library if you need me.”

“Thanks and close the door behind you, please.” Brice only wished he could stay hidden in his office during Brooke’s short stay.

* * *

Brooke stood in front of Brice’s office door, pushed out a quick breath and raised her balled fist to knock—only she couldn’t do it. She was suddenly hit with the memory of the first time she’d met Brice in that very office nearly three years earlier.

* * *

She walked into the office to find the most handsome man she’d ever seen wearing an expensive-looking gray suit and wireless headphones while he stared at his computer. Brooke had never found herself at a loss for words, yet the man before her, with his light-colored skin, dark, curly hair and full, sexy lips, were wreaking havoc on her system. “Excuse me,” Brooke said, walking up to his desk and waving, trying to get his attention.

Brice removed his headphones and quickly got to his feet. “May I help you?” His eyes roamed her body. Brooke fought the urge to look down to make sure her black pencil skirt, matching jacket and white blouse didn’t have a stain or something on it. She was extremely happy she’d worn her five-inch heels to raise her five-foot seven-inch frame because she just knew he had to be at least six-feet tall.

Brooke looked up at the handsome man with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips, hoping her nervousness wasn’t showing. After all, this was her first major client for her new firm. “I apologize if I’m intruding. They sent me up from downstairs but no one’s out front. My name is Brooke Smith and I’m looking for Mr. Brice Kingsley.”

“I’m Brice Kingsley,” he replied, smiling and showing off a beautiful set of white teeth.

Brooke extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Brice gave it a small shake. “Likewise, but it’s six fifteen in the morning. Why are you here so early?”

“I like to get started early while it’s still quiet. It’s usually the only time I can enjoy my jazz at full blast before others get in and I have to wear my headphones,” she explained.

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “You like jazz?”

Surprise was written all over his face. “I love it,” she assured him.

“I do too. Please have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”

“Yes, cream and sugar, please,” Brooke replied, taking a seat in one of the large round chairs in front of his desk.

Brice walked over to a small table next to his desk where a vintage coffee station had been set up. He poured her a cup, pulled a vanilla-flavored creamer from the desk drawer along with several packets of sugar. He handed her the cup and placed the cream, sugar and a stirrer straw in front of her.

“Please.” He directed her attention to the condiments. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you.” Brooke added the sugar and creamer to her coffee and took a sip. “Very good.”

“You sound surprised.” His brows were standing at attention.

“Honestly, I am.” Brooke smiled over her cup at the amused look on his face. “But I’m also impressed. A lot of men can’t make a good cup of coffee.”

“You have to have the right mixture of water to bean,” Brice explained.

“Now I’m really impressed,” she admitted. “Most men don’t know that.”

Brice took a seat behind his desk. “I’m the one impressed. Your catch saved us millions of dollars. I still can't believe our former tax accountants had been using several incorrect forms and overlooking valuable deductions. I can’t imagine your bosses at the IRS are very happy with you.”

“Not at all. They fired me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, frowning.

“Don’t be. If they hadn’t fired me, Victoria wouldn’t have convinced me to come work for her.”

“But only as a consultant. I understand you wouldn’t come on board full-time.” He gave her a quizzical look.

“No offense, but I want to be my own boss. I don’t want to be tied down to one company. Thankfully, your mother understood that and hired me anyway. Kingsley is my first client.”

Brice raised his coffee cup. “Here’s to a long and fruitful relationship.”

Brooke smiled and raised her cup. “Shall we get started?”

* * *

Brooke broke away from the past, pushed her shoulders back, raised her hand and knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Chapter 3

Brooke opened the door and walked into the office to find Brice seated behind his desk, signing several documents. “Did you forget something, Amy?”

The sound of his voice sent waves of desire throughout her body, just like they had from the first moment they met. She’d missed it... She’d missed him. “It’s not Amy, Brice,” Brooke replied, closing the door behind her, knowing this conversation wasn’t for the public.

Brice dropped his pen, raised his head and sat back in his seat. “Brooke,” he said, his face expressionless.

“Do you have a moment for a quick chat?” She tried to project confidence when in reality she was a nervous wreck inside. Her heart was beating so fast she just knew the whole building could hear it.

Brice tilted his head slightly to the right and his forehead crinkled. “You tell me after six months of what I thought was a wonderful marriage that you want out. I convince you to give us time to work things out, at least I thought I had, and go out for your favorite seafood only to come back to find that you’ve left me with a note.” He leaned forward slightly. “You disappear for three months, only communicating through your lawyer, and now you want to chat.” His tone was hard but even.

“I... I—”

“Sure, please, have a seat.” His words were laced with disdain and sarcasm.

Brooke moved forward on unsteady legs, reaching for the support of a chair. She swallowed hard. “You make it sound so—”

“So what? Honest? Is that not what happened?”

“I didn’t want to fight. Not then and certainly not now,” she explained, trying to hold his angry glare.

“What do you want, Brooke?” Brice asked, sitting back in his chair.

“It’s simple. I’d like to get through these next several weeks as painlessly as possible. We’re both professionals with a job to do.”

Brice sat up in his chair. “That we are.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a manila envelope. “We can start by you signing the settlement papers so the lawyers can move forward with the divorce.”

He slid the envelope to Brooke. “I told you I don’t want your money. I just want to keep my name.”

“You mean my name, and I’m sure you do. It’s not like Brooke Smith would bring in the big clients.”

Brooke could nearly see the anger radiating from his body and he had every right to be furious with her, especially with the cowardly way she’d handled things but she felt she had no choice. Brooke thought her past, specifically the things she had done to put herself through school, and her present health issues would be too much to ask anyone to handle. Brooke knew how bad her request sounded, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason she wanted to remain a Kingsley—it was the only way she’d always have a connection to him and his family. They were the two things she never had before and didn’t think she ever would again.

“The only way you get to keep my name is if you take the settlement.”

“I don’t want or need your money. I can take care of myself,” she reiterated.

“I don’t give a damn if you want the money or not. It’s a few million dollars—give it to a charity if you like. I won’t ever be accused of not taking care of you,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Fine!” Brooke opened the envelope and pulled out the documents. “Got a pen I can borrow?”

“Sure.” Brice handed her the Montblanc she’d given him last year for his birthday. He handed her the pen and their eyes met, and for a brief moment, Brooke thought they’d softened until he broke contact and reached for his buzzing phone. Brooke signed in all the highlighted spots. She returned the documents to the envelope, handed it and his pen back to him. “Happy?”

“Hardly. Just one more thing. We’d appreciate it if any extracurricular activity you may have going on is kept under wraps.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows stood at attention.

“Just continue to be discreet and so will I.”

Brooke’s heart sank when she caught on to what he was talking about. Although, Brooke wasn’t entirely sure what he meant about her activities, she wanted to kick herself for being hurt by the idea of Brice moving on with his life. It’s what she wanted...what she thought was best. Brooke couldn’t get passed the lump in her throat to speak so she simply nodded.

“I’ll get the papers to the lawyers right away. In sixty days, you’ll be several million dollars richer and free of me. All just in time for our first anniversary.”

“Can you not do that?” Brooke looked down at her intertwined hands lying in her lap, hoping to hide the slight tremor.

“Do what?”

Brooke raised her head and met his leer. “Act like a petulant child.”

Brice raised his chin and narrowed his eyes but quickly relaxed his face. “Absolutely. We will keep things professional and limit our interactions.”

“Fine. Maybe we can get through this almost painlessly,” Brooke said, rising slowly from her chair. The last thing she wanted was for her legs to give out from under her. Brice stood, walked around his desk and came to stand in front of her. “We both know in our business...the world of finance...a world of precision, ‘almost’ doesn’t count.”

Brooke looked up into Brice’s eyes and they were no longer devoid of emotion; they had softened. She actually had a sliver of hope that maybe they could salvage some type of friendship from the mess she’d made. They had been close before anything else and she missed him.

“Excuse me, Brice,” a familiar voice interrupted. Brooke turned toward the door and saw Amy standing there, smiling at Brice with an excited look on her face as if she couldn’t wait to see him or something.

Before Brooke knew it, her old insecurities about Amy resurfaced. Their old arguments that Brice had dismissed as ridiculous and a growing friendship that the two shared annoyed Brooke to no end. Without warning all types of nonsense came flying out of her mouth. “Amy, you’re still here? Shouldn’t your internship be up by now? Don’t tell me you didn’t pass your class.” So much for not acting like a child. Brooke could feel Brice’s eyes on her, but she kept her own on Amy.

“No, I passed and graduated magna cum laude, in fact.” Amy frowned at Brice.

“Amy works for me now,” Brice explained with a confused look on his face.

“Does she now?” Brooke murmured.

“Do you need anything, Amy?” Brice asked.

“It can wait. I just needed to talk to you about the dinner—”

“We’re still on, right?” His eyes jumped between her and Brooke.

“Yes...of course,” she replied, her smile widening.

Brooke felt sick and needed to escape. “Don’t let me interrupt. I have to get to work, anyway.” She turned and walked out the door.

* * *

“What was that all about?” Amy asked, bug-eyed.

“Sorry about that. It’s just...” Brice ran his hand through his hair. He felt awful for using Amy in such a way and misleading Brooke. But the hurt and anger he tried to suppress surfaced at the thought of Brooke moving on with someone else, especially while he'd been pining after her, and made him want to strike back.

“I get it. You wanted a little payback for something she did. It’s not my business, but if you want to talk, I’m here,” she offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good. About what I said...” Brice rubbed the back of his neck.

Amy held up both hands. “No worries. You’re fine and all, but you’re not my type.”

Brice laughed and went to sit behind his desk. “I’m not?”

“Nope, but your cousin Travis on the other hand...” she informed him, smiling.

“Yeah, well, I hate to burst your bubble but you’re a bit young for him.”

“I’m only four years younger than you,” she reminded him.

“Yes, and six years younger than Travis. Trust me, you’re too young.”

Amy sat in one of the chairs that faced his desk. “I know. He already told me.”

Brice frowned. “He did? When?”

“When I asked him out,” she stated nonchalantly.

Brice chuckled and shook his head. “Fearless...”

“No disrespect, boss, but why was your ex being such a B toward me, anyway?”

“She’s always thought you had a crush on me,” he explained.

“Hardly...”

Brice checked his buzzing phone. “What did you want to tell me about Kristen’s dinner?”

“She needed to cancel. Something came up.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

“How about I take you to dinner? That way, what you told your wife won’t be a lie. Besides, you really do need to loosen up a bit. I know this great place downtown, so I’m not taking no for an answer,” she insisted.

“I thought I was the boss.”

Amy stood. “In this building you are, but at six, I’m in charge.” She left the office laughing.

Brice was thankful for the distraction Amy brought. He enjoyed her youthful energy and the enthusiasm she had for their work. Brice could never understand why Brooke had felt threatened by Amy, who was more like a sister to him than anything. He knew making Brooke think he was seeing Amy socially was petty, but given the way Brooke had reacted toward Amy, Brice saw an opening to seek a little revenge for everything she’d put him through, especially since he chose not to confront her and the man she was with in Paris. Walking away was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Only now, he felt horrible. Brice didn’t want to see Brooke hurt, because no matter how hard he tried not to, he still cared about his wife.

* * *

Brooke entered the office that had been hers for over a year and found that it hadn’t changed. The mahogany desk, which was a twin to the one in Brice’s office, was still in the same spot where she’d left it on the left side of the room in front of her wall of bookshelves. Brooke hadn’t wanted her desk placed in front of her windows, blocking her view of downtown Houston. Instead, she’d placed a small sofa and two chairs in the middle of the office—creating a small living room—so the views could be enjoyed by everyone visiting her. A ten-seater conference table had been placed across from the desk and living area and was adorned with six laptops, two printers and several boxes of documents that needed to be reviewed and audited.

“They didn’t change a thing,” Brooke announced, walking into the room.

“Nope, they didn’t,” Lori agreed, giving her friend the once-over. “Are you okay?”

“Yes... No, but I will be.” Brooke took a seat at the table.

“We’ve organized things by quarter,” Damon explained from his seat at the opposite end of the table.

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk about whatever just happened between you and Brice?” Lori’s jaw clenched and she crossed her arms at her chest.

“Not really,” she said, breaking eye contact with her friend.

“If you change your mind—”

“He’s actually dating Amy. Can you believe that?”

“Seriously?”

“Yep, but hey—” she shrugged “—if he wants to date a teenager, who am I to care? We’re nearly divorced.”

“What?” Lori’s mouth flew open but quickly closed.

“Oh, yeah, I signed the papers, including the settlement.”

“Good for you. Now you’ll have plenty of money for whatever you might need and you get to keep the name too, I assume. What a good business move.”

“I do and Brice agrees, but, you know that’s not why I’m keeping his name,” Brooke said defensively.

“I know.” Lori’s mouth twisted sideways.

Brooke could see the concern on her friend’s face “Seriously, it’s fine... I’m fine.”

“If you say so. By the way, Peter is picking you up after work.”

“What?”

Dr. Peter Schultz, a renowned neurologist from a family of physicians, was Brooke’s doctor and foster brother. “You can’t keep putting the man off, especially after he flew all the way to Paris to see you,” Lori explained, taking a seat at the table across from Brooke.

“I can’t deal with Peter right now. I need to focus on getting through this project.” Brooke reached for several files.

“Peter wanted to meet you for lunch. He was prepared to send a car for you. I told him you already had lunch plans, which you do. I know how you like to work through lunch on the first day of a new project. I ordered Chinese for us and pizza for Damon.”

“Good. Meat lovers, I hope?” Damon asked Lori.

“What else would I order for a carnivore like you?”

“Lori—”

“Peter needs to examine you.”

Brooke presented her hands. “See, Mother, no tremors. I’m not tired and no muscle spasms.”

“Good, now be sure to tell all that to Peter when he picks you up tonight. It's bad enough that only a handful of us know that you have multiple sclerosis and all you have to endure.”

“You even said the only reason you told your foster brother is because he happens to be a neurologist and you needed a doctor you ‘kind of’ trusted,” Damon added, using air quotes to emphasize his point. “Didn’t you swear him to secrecy too? Making sure he didn’t tell the rest of his family.”

“Yes, she did.” Lori nodded slowly. “I don’t get it either. You were diagnosed nearly four months ago with a positive prognosis.”

Yeah but for how long? With my luck, everything could change in a blink of an eye. “Guys, we’ve talked about this already. Growing up in the foster care system, you learn four major lessons.” Brooke used the fingers of her right hand to count them off. “One, keep your material possessions close at all times. Two, keep all bed and bathroom doors locked when you’re in the room. Three, expect the worst and consider yourself lucky if nothing bad happens. Four, the only person you can depend on is you. It took years for me to feel safe enough to open up even a little bit to people. Working day to day with you two made that easy.”

“And we love and appreciate you for it too. We’re here for you and always will be.” Lori looked over at Damon, who offered his agreement in the form of a wide smile. “But you need to expand your circle of trust, my friend...at least by one.”