26. Stuart
STUART
What the bloody hell.
Brooke is upset, and I can feel it’s somehow my fault. I just . . . I can’t figure out what I did wrong. I hate that I made her feel this way. Maybe Sean and Evan can help me sort this out.
Me: What are you and Sean doing the rest of today?
Sean: We’re going to a Michelin 3-star seafood place for dinner tonight. The chef knows Evan is a foodie and invited him when he heard we’re in town. Want to join us?
Me: Where’s the restaurant?
Sean: Hollywood.
Me: Is it just the two of you or did you invite dates?
Sean: Only us.
Me: Great. Send me the details. I’ll meet you there.
Since we’re not meeting until dinner, I have plenty of time for a workout. A little sweat and a hot shower will wash away my concerns about Brooke.
An evening with my mates is just what I need.
Sean, Evan, and I arrive for dinner within minutes of each other and are shown to a primo table in a private dining room.
The host begins, “Your server, Erica, will pop the cork on a bottle of Cristal champagne. And Chef will be here to greet you shortly. Enjoy.”
Evan holds up his hand to stop Erica, saying, “Thank you, but we’d like to have cocktails first. A Boulevardier for me. McCallum for Sean. And unless I’m mistaken, Stuart will have an Old Fashioned.”
“You’re right. An Old Fashioned for me,” I confirm.
“Of course, sirs. We’ll save this for the first course,” Erica says, returning the Cristal to the pedestal champagne cooler and exiting the room.
“So, why aren’t you with smart-and-sexy Brooke? We didn’t think we’d see you again this week,” Sean chides.
I sigh. “It’s a mystery to me. Apparently, I upset her, but she’s pretending nothing is wrong. And to make matters worse, she went from hot to icy cold in an instant. Clearly, I hurt her. The problem is that I don’t know what I did wrong, so I can’t fix it.”
“Don’t you have a guess?” Evan asks.
I shake my head, frustration coursing through me.
“Not really. Everything was fine when we arrived at the television station for my interview on the morning show today. Afterward, she suddenly regretted everything between us and declared it’s business only going forward. It makes no sense.”
Running my hands through my hair, my thoughts race, trying to come up with an explanation. I’m at a loss.
“So, something happened during the interview. Maybe someone said something to her. Or she received an email. It’s also possible that you said something during the interview that upset her. Those are the only things that I can think of,” Sean says with a shrug.
“Agreed. Can we watch a replay of the interview online? If so, we can rule out the last one,” Evan asks.
“It’s probably on YouTube. Everything else is,” Sean says.
I quickly Google the interview and pull it up, handing the phone to Evan.
He and Sean watch as I listen. When it ends, I say, “See, it’s innocuous. It must be something else that upset her.”
Sean and Evan stare at me as if I’m from another galaxy.
Stopping, I throw up my hands. “What? Why are you looking at me that way?” I ask.
“You idiot. You’re sleeping with a woman who’s clearly more to you than your usual one-night, play session.
Then announce to the world—with her not only listening but also standing right there—that there’s no one special in your life now.
What the hell did you expect? Of course, she turned to ice,” Evan explains.
“Shite. That’s not what I meant,” I say, sagging onto the nearby sofa.
“It doesn’t matter. That’s what you said,” Sean says matter-of-factly.
“I’m a fucking bastard.”
“To her, you are,” Evan agrees.
“How do I fix this?” I ask, burying my head in my hands.
“Answer another question first. Why does it matter? She’s just another woman you fucked, right?” Evan asks.
“How dare you speak of Brooke that way!” I lean forward, heat rising in my face.
“Ahh! That’s what I thought. She’s the one. You’re screwed mate!” Evan laughs.
“What do you mean?”
“You found the new Lady Sandridge, but you mucked it up before you could seal the deal,” Evan explains.
He’s right. The thought of never being with her again physically hurts.
“How did I screw this up so royally?” I ask.
“Because you’ve never been in love before,” Evan says.
“I’m not in love,” I choke, my voice trembling slightly.
“Mate, you’re lying to yourself. Wake up. If she’s the one, you have to fix this. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck with that too proper Lady Whitfield. She’s colder than ice. You’ll be miserable,” Evans says with conviction.
My chest tightens at the realization that Sean and Evan are right. Panic rises as my heart quickens. I can’t bear the thought of losing her forever.
“True. What can I do?”
“Based on the romance movies that my sister, Brianna, watches, you’re supposed to make a grand gesture,” Evan says.
“What’s a grand gesture?” I ask.
“An extravagant show of love that will overwhelm her and make her melt at your feet,” Evan says.
“And it must be especially meaningful to her. For example, if she hates driving, then don’t buy her an expensive car. Do something that’s specifically just for her,” Sean explains.
“If that’s what you think would work. But nothing specific is coming to mind. I need to think about it.”
“Makes sense, but it can wait until after we eat. Let’s enjoy Chef’s dinner. You can figure your love life out tomorrow,” Evan says.
“Fair enough.”
When Chef walks in to welcome us, my mind is elsewhere. I’m racking my brain as to what would be grand enough to win Brooke back.
An idea begins to form as Chef begins to explain the tasting menu for tonight.
My first step tomorrow is to make sure that Brooke will be at the masquerade ball. I’m not accepting another attorney as her replacement.