"Just repeating your name," Brooke said, flashing what she hoped was an innocent smile. "Trying to get everyone's names down since I'll be spending a lot of time here soon."
"Yeah? I saw you with Jenna. You gonna be doing work on the calendar contest?"
"Looks that way."
Eric's eyes caught hers, then held. "Glad to hear it," he said, then turned away to greet another customer.
"My, my, my," Amanda hummed.
"Drop it," Brooke ordered, although she couldn't deny the little tingle of pleasure that came from being noticed by a hot guy. For the most part, she kept herself closed off. She dated, but she didn't do relationships. And sex was always on her terms. Always.
The truth was, she'd lost the ability to trust, to let go. Lost it? No, that was bullshit. Trust had been ripped away from her, and though she desperately wanted to get it back, the few times she'd let a guy test her boundaries had been completely disastrous.
Fucking Brian. One betrayal. And her whole world had unraveled. And all she'd wanted to do when the world had spun out from under her was run to Spencer. But he was long gone, an artifact of a life that she'd given up to save him. Except he didn't know any of that. And now he hated her. And she was all alone with her angst and her fear doing her damnedest to build a replacement life. And she was close--so damn close.
But now here came Spencer waltzing back into the thick of it, and Brooke knew damn well how much that was going to hurt.
Fuck.
"Earth to Brooke," Amanda trilled. "Where'd you go? Or is the margarita so amazing that I need to give you a moment alone with it."
"Pretty much," Brooke said, taking another long sip. It really was amazing. The traditional margarita tanginess, but laced with a kick of heat that seemed to do back flips on her tongue.
"Well, don't fade on me again. I want the scoop."
Brooke tilted her head, confused. "What scoop would that be?"
"First off, what happened to the engagement? Why didn't you and Spencer get married? And for that matter, how is it that I didn't know that you and Spencer were a thing?"
Brooke hesitated, not wanting to open old wounds. But it was too late for that. The wounds had opened the moment that Andy and Molly, the network's executives, had given her the ultimatum. Spencer was back, whether she wanted him or not.
And she did want him. She'd never stopped. Not really.
But she'd hurt him, and the wounds were too deep to heal. Now, the best that she could hope for was a way to dull the pain so that they could work together. Assuming, of course, that he would even agree.
"From the look on your face, I'm guessing he dumped you?"
"It's complicated," Brooke said, in what had to be the understatement of the year. "My parents never approved of Spencer. His family--well, you've met my dad. It was bad enough that I was dating a guy whose family lived paycheck to paycheck. But toss in the fact that he has a brother in prison because of a gang-related shooting? To say Daddy didn't approve was putting it mildly."
"Probably didn't help that Spencer doesn't hide where he comes from. I watched his show all the time--I mean, real estate, right? And I remember he did one episode where he helped two brothers--former gangbangers--fix up their grandparents' house. Said he wanted to increase awareness and help the guys learn some practical skills."
"I didn't know that," Brooke admitted, although it didn't surprise her. Spencer was a good guy. A solid guy. And her father had simply refused to see that. She smiled ruefully. "I didn't watch the show. Seeing him--it hurt my heart."
Amanda reached over, then pressed her hand over Brooke's. "Your dad did something to end it?"
Brooke nodded, but then immediately shook her head. As tempting as it might be to lay all the blame at her father's feet, she had to take some responsibility.
She wiped away an errant tear. "It was me, too. I--" She cut herself off, her voice choked with a fresh flood of tears. Dammit, she hadn't meant to cry. She drew in a stuttering breath, sniffed, and began again. "I didn't--"
"No," Amanda said in a tone that was uncharacteristically gentle. "It's okay. I didn't mean to bring it all back. And I think I have the general picture. Big, ugly mess with lots and lots of drama."
Despite herself, a bubble of laughter rose, mixing with the knot of tears in her throat and making Brooke hiccup. The painful kind that felt like a fist hitting her heart. "That about sums it up," she said, forcing the words out between hiccups. "And, yeah, drama was the operative word."
"When was this? Before we knew each other, obviously."
Brooke took a sip of her margarita, then waited, her hand on her chest in anticipation of another massive hiccup that didn't come. She drew a tentative breath, then nodded. "It was five years ago. A few weeks before his first show started filming."
"Holy crap. I remember reading about that. Not at the time, but later after his show became popular. I remember there was talk about him being on The Bachelor or some similar show. But he said no--like a serious, big ass, no--and the tabloids started talking about why he kept such a low profile and hardly ever dated and all that stuff."