Personal Relations

“I’m not talking chump change, and you know it.”

Actually, pizza was more than chump change to someone who was watching every penny. That had blown Brooke’s lunch budget and she’d had to brown bag it twice to get back on track.

“You’ve seen the kind of car Jeff drives,” he continued.

“The ten-year-old Honda?”

Chase flushed. “That’s my car. It runs great. Jeff’s is the silver Porsche. His mother gave it to him.”

“Then what are you doing driving it?”

“His grades weren’t up to par the past six weeks and that’s the deal. He maintains a B average, or we switch cars.”

“Oh.” What a great incentive. How could this jerk have thought of it?

Unless he wanted Jeff to blow off his grades so he could drive the Porsche. But as much as she wanted to believe that, especially after his next comment, she didn’t.

He eyed her. “You’re not trying to tell me you didn’t know he’s sitting on a nice little trust fund.”

“Not until you just told me. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

“Tell me another one.”

“Jeff doesn’t look like a trust fund kid.”

“He hasn’t been one for all that long,” Chase grudgingly conceded.

Their eyes met. Brooke’s anger had unaccountably cooled and as it did so, she found herself replaying their argument. He must have been doing the same because at that moment, his eyebrows drew together and he echoed her thoughts. “Let me get this straight—you’re against them getting married?”

“If it means Courtney giving up college, you better believe it.”

“Oh.” He straightened, his forehead still creased as he looked down at her. “Then that means—”

“We’re on the same side,” Brooke finished.

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