Martha Kennerson - Be My Forever Bride

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.”