“Well, she has. Obviously she didn’t need me or my money. Like you don’t need me,” he snapped. Shit, he was exhausted from dancing around the subject.
“Brooks—”
“What? Why did you come after me?”
She thinned her lips. Specks of silver flashed in her irises, but unlike in the past, these weren’t happy. They spoke of pain and regret. She threaded her fingers together, hands trembling.
He leaned in, every part of him throbbing for her answer. Her hesitation was a blade in his heart. “I’ll grab a cab. Goodbye, Madam.”
Chapter Seventeen
One month later…
“Okay, I’m done for the day,” Gina said, before leaving his home.
Brooks waved, then grabbed the beer from the coffee table. Duke snuggled next to him, making a whimpering sound in sympathy. He stroked behind the dog’s ears, downing a generous amount of beer. Shit.
For the past few weeks, he’d worked during the day, and stayed home at night. He’d refused invitations to country club parties and texts from acquaintances. He wanted nothing to do with anyone.
Even now, the TV was on but he had no clue what was playing.
A painful, nostalgic sensation snaked its way through his body. Pamela had called him, and the small gesture meant a lot to him. She’d apologized again, and told him once she’d gotten settled in Colorado, she’d love for him to visit.
He scratched his head. Now, to solve the other problem…
He played the moments he’d shared with Alexa in his head—the good, the bad, and the ugly. She was now thousands of miles away. Did she miss him as much as he did her? After seeing Pamela, she’d followed him out of the apartment to check on him.
Her action had infuriated him then, because he’d been so frustrated and taken aback. But if she didn’t have feelings for him, she wouldn’t have cared. And he’d thrown it all away.
A knock startled him, and Duke barked.
He surged to his feet, walked to the entrance, and opened the door to find Gina.
“What?”
She scurried inside. “I forgot my cell phone.” She dashed to the kitchen and grabbed it. When she returned to the living area, she studied him with an inquisitive look. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but isn’t it time you sorted things out?”
His throat went dry. He hadn’t told her the true story about Alexa, but she probably gathered they were no longer together. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Well, don’t do it for too long. That pretty lady will have a line of guys asking her out.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” he said bitterly.
She chuckled, waving him off. “I’m just being honest. Take it from someone who’s lived more than you. Life doesn’t always give you second chances.”
“I tried,” he said more to himself than to her. “I don’t know what she expects from me.” He’d proposed a relationship and she’d broken off the one they’d had after his father had insulted her. Then in Nevada, she’d helped him figure out what had happened to Pamela but—realization dawned on him. He’d been angry and bitter, and he’d expected her to care for him like an injured bird. What had he done to deserve that? For all he knew, she still believed he was ashamed of her and her past. “Besides showing her I’m not my father,” he said, more to himself than Gina.
“What was that?” she asked, cocking her head as if making an effort to comprehend his low voice.
“I need to show her I’m not my father,” he said out loud. How had he not seen it sooner? After the stupid and sexist way Craig had behaved in front of her at the hospital, Brooks had done nothing to show her he was any different.
He popped his knuckles. Damn it, in his heart he knew he couldn’t be prouder of being by Alexa’s side. Her early life had been abusive and plain wrong, but she’d taken charge as a teenager, and had thrived. She’d become the woman he loved.
Gina shortened the gap between them and patted him on his shoulder. “You are right. Thankfully, you’re everything your father is not. And if she doesn’t know that, you have to make her understand.”
Strands of determination coursed through him. He’d do better than that. I’ll show it to her. “I need to make a phone call.”
…
Alexa looked at the airline website. She slid her fingers down the mouse of her laptop, the same way she had for the last two weeks. Heat pitched low in her stomach, and her palms were clammy. Anxiety wrapped around her neck, squeezing her throat, and for a moment or two, her gaze fixed on the screen.
“Would you like anything else, señorita?” asked the waiter.
Alexa put down her small cup of black coffee and glanced at the Spanish waitress smiling at her. “No, I’m good.”
Was she? Not by a long shot. For the past three weeks, she’d been volunteering at one of Europe’s largest organizations for assisting victims of abuse—battered women and children. She was now Amanda Snowden, and had bought a charming apartment in a nice area of Barcelona.
She turned her laptop off and focused on the hustle and bustle of downtown. An old lady walked her French bulldog. Taking another sip of her coffee, she mused. She couldn’t buy a ticket to see Brooks in Texas—she was no longer Alexa. She’d become Amanda, an American with fat pockets who decided to do volunteer work and perfect her Spanish.
Her phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her bag, immediately recognizing Jackie’s number on FaceTime. She flicked it on, and Jackie waved at her enthusiastically.
“Hey,” Alexa said, her pulse fluttering with excitement.
She missed Jackie. Thankfully, Jackie had continued to run House of Alexa with a lot of success—which was why Alexa didn’t ask for updates very often, because she knew how busy Jackie must be.
And she had a life now, too. Enjoyed the work, even if a part of her felt like she ate delicious
