Martha Kennerson - Be My Forever Bride

“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.”