Chapter 32
Caleb
Somehow in the midst of an insane wedding season, this amazing woman is helping me finalize the business plan, complete with projections, mood boards, and sample menus. The details and ideas that were living in a list on my phone are now printed in a binder with color-coded tabs and a cover page.
Brooke sits in my pathetic bachelor pad sublet, helping me put the final details together to share with my parents.
For a long time, I focused on doing something completely on my own.
But that’s not feasible. Instead, Brooke suggested I pitch it to my parents as an extension of Foley’s.
It’d be mine, but still part of the family.
I know they have enough faith in me to hand the business over, but do they trust me enough to expand this way? I don’t know.
It's not only them I need. My parents had each other when they started Foley’s. I have Brooke helping me put together the business plan, but it’s not enough. I haven’t voiced just how much I want her to be part of this.
I’m so gone for her. I have been for a while, and showing her the property only made that clearer.
The way she walked into the barn and immediately saw the potential.
I only realized the possibilities after she came back into my life.
This is my dream. Her. Me. Us. All of it.
Whether this business plan works out or I end up taking over Foley’s as-is, she’s the only plan that matters.
She won’t leave Spencer Soirees, and she deserves to run it once Judy releases it from her manicured claws.
But I’d be the happiest, luckiest man to work with her all season long.
To have her by my side, building something together.
There has to be a way to make that work.
Spencer Soirees can be the exclusive wedding planning agency.
No, she can be the exclusive planner. I don’t want to work my ass off every weekend night without finding her beautiful smile across the room.
I’m getting way ahead of myself, but I’m hoping that in the back of her mind she’s thinking about this, too.
Brooke bites her bottom lip and adds color-coded tabs to the color-coded dividers, and if we weren’t about to head to my parents’ for dinner, I would push the papers and binders off the table, lay her down on it and bite that perfect lip myself. God, am I lucky.
I insisted on picking up food to bring to my parents’ place for dinner.
Brooke waits in the car while I go into the restaurant to pick up the takeout.
It’s not exactly takeout—it’s a to-go kit from our favorite Italian restaurant.
Pretty laughable when Dad or I could easily whip up this exact meal ourselves.
But my gift to Mom is not having to deal with the mess the two of us usually make in the kitchen.
We’re pretty organized at the Market, but in the comfort of home, our cooking gets a little sloppy.
All we’ll have to do tonight is boil the fresh pasta, heat the sauce, and assemble the salad.
Something even Brooke might be able to handle.
I’m greeted by my favorite hostess when I open the door. “Hi Maria!” I wrap the old woman in a hug. Maria’s been the hostess at La Stazione since I was a kid and she’s a regular at Foley’s.
“Caleb!” She squeezes me tight. “Your order’s in the back. Michael will grab it.” She nods to the bus boy standing nearby and he heads to the back of the restaurant.
“It’s good to see you,” I say. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in more. It’s been a busy summer.”
“I know, I know, you kids, always so busy.” Her Italian accent is barely detectable anymore.
“How’s it going with Ms. Spencer? She’s here with some tall lady.
Another wedding planner, I think.” She turns and peeks around the hostess stand.
I follow her gaze and spot Judy right away.
The blonde across from her is sipping a martini and reading paperwork.
She looks vaguely familiar. Instead of twisting in anticipation of my parents meeting the love of my life—something I should probably confess to Brooke—there’s a pit in my stomach.
Michael returns with our order. “Thanks,” I say as he hands me the bag.
I turn back to Maria. “It’s going well actually.
I’m mostly working with Brooke and she’s amazing. ”
“So, I’ve heard.” She winks. Christ, news travels fast. But we’d know if it was fast enough to get to Judy by now, wouldn’t we?
“I’ll be back in soon, Maria. Promise!”
She kisses my cheek and I head out the door.
“That smells amazing.” Brooke grabs the oversized brown paper bag and places it between her feet on the floor of the car. Wendell whines in the back at the smell of bolognese.
I turn and grab Brooke’s cheek, angling her to face me so I can kiss her deeply. She releases a soft moan when I swipe my tongue against hers.
“What was that for?” She smiles, lips red.
“Just wanted to,” I say, buckling my seatbelt. “So…uh, your mom was in there...”
The color drains from her face. “Shit, we’ve got to get out of here.”
It’s starting to get difficult to be okay with the affect Judy has on Brooke. I can’t imagine any circumstance in which I’d be so scared and nervous to see my parents. Brooke deserves so much more than Judy has ever given her.
“She was with a blonde woman. Definitely not from here,” I say as I pull out of the parking spot and turn onto Post Road.
“Blonde bob? Flawless makeup?”
“Um, yes,” I say, glancing quickly at her face while I drive. Her nose is scrunched in thought.
“Oh, well…” she hesitates. “I think she’s a new vendor. Some collaboration or something.”
“Hmm.” It doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t tell Brooke that. It’s probably nothing.
It’s been over a decade since Brooke has been to my parents’ home, since she’s spent any real time with them. The deep breath she takes as I pull into the driveway tells me she’s nervous. She’s hidden it well so far.
“Hey.” I put the car in park and cut the engine. “My parents are going to love you. I mean, they already do.”
“It’s just…I spent years thinking your dad hated me, and I haven’t seen your mom since I was a kid.
It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that they didn’t absolutely freak out when you told them about us,” she says, straightening in the passenger’s seat, like she suddenly remembered something.
“What exactly did you tell them about us? Are we—”
“Brooke.” I unbuckle and turn to face her, taking her hands in mine.
I know what she’s asking, and I should have given her the answer the first night we spent together.
“We’re together. You and me. That’s what I told my parents and that’s what I’ll tell the world when you’re ready.
I understand why you’re not, I won’t rush you.
But without sounding like a possessive asshole, I can’t wait for everyone to know you’re mine. ”
“Yours?” She looks at me through her lashes, cheeks pink, a smile growing across her face.
I smile. “Mine.”
“You sound like one of the guys in my romantasy books,” she says, grinning.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes, it’s a good thing.” She nods, biting her lip.
This woman. I hook my finger under her chin and lift her face. Her fair skin gives away what she’s feeling as her cheeks redden. I lean in and kiss her softly.
“Caleb!”
That’s Mom’s voice. I lean my forehead on Brooke’s and sigh. Mom’s always had impeccable timing.
I break away from Brooke. “We’ll be right there, Mom,” I shout. “Ready?”
“Ready.” Brooke smiles so widely it reaches her ears. Mine. My chest swells.
“My word, Brooke,” Mom says when she lets her out of a hug. She holds on to Brooke’s arms. “You’ve grown up to be a beautiful young woman.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Foley,” Brooke says with a smile.
“Mrs. Foley!” Mom scoffs. “Don’t you dare call me Mrs. Foley, Brooke! It’s Lynne, like when you were little.”
“If you insist…Lynne.”
“I do.” She lets Brooke out of her grip and eyes the bouquet of hydrangeas in Brooke’s hand.
“These are for you.” Brooke hands her the blue flowers. “I cut them from my backyard this morning. Thank you for having me tonight.”
“Oh, they’re beautiful, Brooke, thank you.
Now, now…come in, come in.” Mom quickly wraps her arm around Brooke’s shoulder.
Mom has a few inches on her and holds her in such a maternal way, like Brooke is the daughter she never had.
As they walk down the hall, Brooke turns her head back and gives me a smile that says she really likes me!
Mom and Brooke sit outside at the patio table while Dad and I put together the meal.
Well, I put it together and he supervises.
Brooke fell right back in with Mom like I knew she would.
The force with which Mom embraced Brooke when we made it to the door looked borderline painful, but Brooke took it in stride.
I drop the fresh pasta into the pot of boiling water.
Dad slices the sourdough loaf and throws the croutons onto the salad.
I made the executive decision to keep Brooke far away from the meal prep.
Baby steps. Once we’re settled and eating, I’ll share the plan with my parents.
They’ve never given me reason to think they wouldn’t support me, but I’m worried I’m about to ruin all their plans.
They deserve to step back and retire if they want to.
While the pasta cooks, I take a fresh bottle of wine outside. Mom and Brooke are laughing together, and it’s music to my ears seeing the two most important women in my life reconnecting after all this time.
“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” I say, refilling their wine glasses.
“Thank you,” they say in unison, smiling at me. But while Brooke’s lips curve into a smile, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Those gorgeous ocean blue eyes hold a hint of sadness.
“You okay?” I ask quietly while Mom is focused on sampling the new wine.