There it is. And just like Sandy to leave the most important item for last. “I don’t suppose you know his specialty?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Cardiology.”
Not bad. “So why is he still single?”
“No time to date. You have to study to be a cardiologist. I certainly wouldn’t want a partier to operate on my heart.”
“True,” she said and stood up. “Okay, I gotta go. Tomorrow’s going to be another busy day at work.”
“More baby clothes shopping?”
“Yup. I so enjoy spending Amandine’s husband’s money.”
Sandy’s chortle faded as Brooke let the door close behind her.
She drove back to the city where she lived in a cheap no-frills apartment. The Sunday afternoon traffic wasn’t that heavy, for L.A. It was good that Sandy’s marriage was working out again. She looked content, which was what mattered.
So why do I feel so dissatisfied?
Brooke had a good life. A good home. A car that was barely three years old with a job that wasn’t overly demanding and paid well. In fact, it was great. She basically got paid to hang out with her best friend all day long.
And yet…
Should she just suck it up and go to church? Being single with an unemployable degree—English Lit—in one of the most expensive cities in the country didn’t reassure her father. If she made the effort to mix a little, at least, maybe he’d be satisfied.
Until the next time someone with an unmarried doctor or lawyer son joined the congregation. For somebody who didn’t go to the church, he knew an awful lot about what went on there, thanks to all those talkative uncles on her mother’s side of the family.
She parked her car. As she was climbing out, her phone rang. The caller ID showed an unfamiliar nu
mber. Should she ignore it? But what if it was something to do with Amandine?
Brooke worked as Amandine’s assistant, and it wasn’t unusual for her to get calls from people she’d never met. She didn’t travel in the same social circles that Amandine did.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey, Brooke.”
That voice. Her entire body clenched with shock.
“It’s Pete.”
“I know.” Pete Monroe, Amandine’s younger brother. How could she forget? “What can I do for you?”
A short pause. “I’m in the neighborhood. Wanna grab an early dinner?”
“Uh, it’s only five thirty. I’m not hungry.” Her stomach seized the moment and growled loudly. She cringed. Could he have heard it? Maybe she should’ve had the grayish chicken noodle soup at Sandy’s. Her sister wasn’t the best cook, but it would’ve been better than her stomach making an embarrassing noise.
“If you want to make it a little later that’s fine. I heard from Amandine there’s a great Chinese restaurant near your place. Wong Lotus.”
The images of succulent lobster meat smothered in butter-soft sauce danced in her mind, and her mouth watered. I wonder if Pavlov had a dog named Brooke?
“My treat,” Pete continued. “Come on.”
“Fine.” If he was buying, she was definitely getting lobster Cantonese. “I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
She sat back in the driver’s seat and checked her makeup in the rearview mirror. Smoky eyeliner and dark eye shadow made her eyes pop. She could, however, use more lip gloss. She dug into her purse and found a tube. She should look good, but not to the point that Pete might think she’d gone to any special trouble just for him. They’d been staying away from each other since that afternoon when she’d lost her mind—seriously, that was the only explanation for what she’d done. So why was he reaching out to her all of a sudden? She liked it better when they were avoiding each other. Life was easier that way.
Not that life had made it easy for her to ignore him. First, he was her best friend’s younger brother. Brooke couldn’t stop Amandine from talking about her brother from time to time without revealing the incident from almost eight years ago. And second, Pete worked for Amandine’s husband Gavin Lloyd, who also signed Brooke’s paychecks.