Chapter 48
brOOKES
“Last Resort” by Papa Roach blares through the speakers of my Ferrari as I come in hot at Marina Mirage, pulling up to the valet with a skid of my tires that causes heads to turn.
Hopping out of my car, I toss the attendant my fob and slide off my sunglasses, linking them into the neckline of my t-shirt as I walk up the steps and into the restaurant that sits overlooking the million-dollar yachts moored in the marina.
People turn, unabashed in their assessment of me, but I ignore them, keeping my chin high and my focus straight ahead as I navigate the maze of tables.
I’m not in the mood for this shit. I endured thirteen holes with Jonesy this morning.
And, don’t get me wrong, I love that man, but I’m fucking exhausted and my already limited patience is at an all-time low.
“Here he is.” Blake stands, holding his hand out in greeting.
My hand itches with the need to knock him out, but I somehow refrain, ignoring his proffered hand and walking around him to take the seat next to Cam.
Obviously affronted, Blake tries to play it cool, smoothing his hand down the front of his button-down and clearing his throat, returning to his seat and opening his folio.
As soon as he’s comfortable, he looks up from his papers, meeting my hard stare, and the asshole actually has the nerve to balk, looking at me like I’m the one with a fucking problem.
My knee bounces beneath the table as anger roils through me.
“Can I start you with some drinks, fellas?” A waitress appears, smiling directly at me like there aren’t two other people seated at the table.
“I’ll grab a scotch on the rocks,” Blake says with a slimy smirk, his predatory gaze raking the waitress from head to toe. “And we’ll take a bottle of the 2019 cabernet for the table, cutie.”
“No, we won’t,” I say quickly.
Blake rears back, somewhat confused it seems. Idiot.
I force a smile that doesn’t meet the look of disdain in my eyes. “I’m an alcoholic, remember? An addict.” I arch a brow while wondering how long it’s going to take this asshole to realize exactly why I’m pissed. But he’s always been a clueless bastard.
“We’ll have a bottle of sparkling water for the table,” I say, smiling politely up at the waitress. “And he’ll have a mocktail.” I spear Blake with another derisive once over. “With a pretty little umbrella.”
Blake looks from me to Cam and back again, like he has no idea what’s happening.
“So, was that one mocktail, or one for everyone?” The waitress looks around the table, genuinely confused, her finger hovering over her service tablet.
“Just the water’s fine,” Cam mutters from beside me, shifting in his chair again.
The waitress leaves, and I continue glaring at Blake, relaxed back in my chair, arms folded across my chest.
“What’s going on?” Blake asks, looking again to Cam. But he’s out of luck. Cam can’t help him now.
“I called you both here today because I have news,” I begin, still looking directly at Blake.
“What is it, Brookes?” Cam asks, genuinely concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine.” I shrug a shoulder, still staring at Blake. “Fucking better than fine, actually. Perfect.”
“Cut to the chase, Brookes,” Blake says with a bored sigh. But he’s not fooling me. I can tell by the way he’s twisting his gold pen through his fingers, he’s nervous as shit.
“I want you to terminate the contract,” I say, glancing at Cam. “With Poppy.”
Cam’s eyes go wide. “W-what happened? Is everything… okay?”
“Like I said,” I continue, smiling from him to Blake and back again. “Everything is perfect.”
Blake’s eyebrows knit together.
“I’ll have it terminated today.” Cam nods.
“Good.” I shift in my chair. “Now, I want you both to know that Poppy and I are together. For real,” I add, lowering my voice a touch.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Blake mutters, shaking his head.
I slam my hand against the table harder than intended, the glassware and the silverware shaking, causing the people seated at the tables nearby to turn and gawk.
With gritted teeth, I offer a rueful smile and an apologetic wave to those around us. Sitting up, I lean closer, resting my arms on the table.
Lowering my voice to a whisper, I flash Blake a warning look. “You are on thin fuckin’ ice, Mestroni.”
His face falls then, shock and something else flaring in his eyes.
Clearing my throat, I sit back again, glancing at Cam. “Poppy and I aren’t just together,” I add. “I’m in love. For the first time in my life. And I’m happy.” I shrug, because what else can I say.
Cam stares at me for a long moment, his gaze penetrating and assessing.
“This isn’t a fad,” I continue, shaking my head.
“I’m not using her to replace anything. I just…
I realized a few weeks ago—” I stop to consider my words, ignoring Blake across the table and talking only to Cam.
“For the first time in my life, I like who I am when she’s around. She makes me feel… like I’m more than.”
Cam releases a heavy exhale, shifting in his chair and, looking down at his closed laptop, he nods once.
“I’m happy for you, Brookes.” Meeting my eyes, he continues.
“Truly. You deserve to be happy. And I will terminate the contract this afternoon. However”—he offers me his warning, stern-dad look—“I need you to promise me that you will continue your therapy sessions because I know you haven’t been in a couple of weeks, and if this is really what you want, then for your sake as well as Poppy’s, you need to continue therapy. ”
I nod. “I will. I promise.”
“Good,” he says simply, lifting his gaze in Blake’s direction.
Refraining from rolling my eyes, I turn, looking at Blake, the two of us staring at one another for a long moment.
And I have so much to say to this asshole.
So fucking much. But I know I can’t. I will.
Just not here. Not now. So, instead, I point a finger at him, searching for the words I can say right now.
“I want you to know,” I begin, my voice low and gruff, “that the only reason I haven’t fired your ass is because I don’t fucking trust you.”
Blake doesn’t even flinch at my words. Fucking narcissist.
Cam leans forward. “What the hell is going—”
I hold my hand up, stopping him, my gaze never once wavering from Blake’s.
“You fuckin’ work for me,” I mutter, tapping my chest. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
He blinks, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“And, if you ever—” I don’t say the words because I can tell he knows by my steely tone exactly what I’m talking about. “I will fucking finish you.”
Blake nods once, looking down, and I release the breath I’ve been holding, my shoulders sagging as I sit back in my chair.
“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Cam finally asks, looking from me to Blake and back again.
My phone shudders then, and I check the message from Remy, my housekeeper, unable to stop the grin from spreading across my face.
Remy: The contractor just left, Mr. Brookes.
Sliding my phone into the pocket of my shorts, I stand. “I’ve gotta get home,” I say, tipping my chin at Blake as I push my chair in. “He can tell you everything.”
And, without another word, I turn and walk out of the restaurant with my chin held high and feeling a whole lot lighter in my chest.