24

ON THURSDAY AFTERNOON, THE SUN DOMINATED a cloudless blue sky. The temperature was cool enough to eat outside in Naples’s Fifth Avenue South shopping district. Royal palms lined the sidewalks, adding their lofty tropical sprays to the already colorful historic and modern architecture around her. Brooke loved to eat there and watch the tourists and locals lingering at the windows, their arms hooked through bags filled with lavish purchases.

Wearing a light sundress and sandals, her hair down and moving with the occasional breeze, Brooke reveled in her newly acquired positive attitude. She took her attention away from her laptop long enough to accept a refill of iced tea and the check. When the waiter left, a shadow fell over her table.

“You’re getting pretty good at avoiding the rain.”

While Ethan’s voice moved over her like a warm caress, Brooke ignored the skip of her heartbeat and kept her eyes trained on the computer screen. “Though it seems like a cloud just rolled in,” she replied with the barest hint of a smile. When he didn’t respond, she looked up through her prescription sunglasses and found him in full GQ mode, from the fitted lines of his three-piece suit to his sexy smolder. His sleek shades gave him movie star appeal, something that was clearly getting noticed by several young women on the sidewalk.

But he was here for her…and she didn’t have to imagine what was beneath that suit. She cocked her head. “How did you find me?”

“When you wouldn’t answer your cell, I called your father. He said you’d be here.”

Brooke sipped from her straw. “He gave you his number?”

Ethan flipped his car keys. “Not everyone thinks I’m a turd.”

The reminder made her smile. She leaned back, her voice soft. “When I called you that, you were a turd. But you’re not anymore.”

“Gee, thanks. May I?”

She watched him with a wry frown as he pulled out a chair without waiting for her answer. “Help yourself.”

“You look different from the last time I saw you,” he said. “Hell, you look different period.” The waiter came by and Ethan declined his offer for anything to drink.

“I feel better,” Brooke replied with a nod of appreciation.

His next words came out husky and full of meaning: “You look beautiful.”

Sensing his intense gaze from beneath the sunglasses, her face instantly warmed. “Thanks for everything you did last Friday.” She gave an embarrassed smile. “Tolerating my little breakdown and handling my parents.”

He nodded once. “I’m glad I was there.”

Though she wholeheartedly agreed, she refused to say it, at least not until she accurately deciphered his reason for seeking her out.

Ethan watched the busy scene around them from his chair. “Your father also said that you went for a boat ride and came back with a new career goal in mind. He made some comment about dolphins that I didn’t quite get.”

She smiled while flipping through a list of job prospects on her computer screen. “When I was younger, I sort of let them make decisions for me.” She found one that seemed promising and wrote it down on her notepad. “Of course, my problems were a little more mundane back then, but I figured I might as well give it a try. See what happens.”

Ethan leaned over and took a peek at her list. “How does that work exactly?”

“I told myself if I saw dolphins I’d stay here and find a new career. If I didn’t see dolphins, I’d move to Texas with my parents and stay with my old career.”

He snorted in disbelief. “You based a decision like that on dolphins?”

“Why not?”

The annoyance in his tone was palpable. “I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d put a little more heart into it.” She only shrugged and took another sip from her straw. Ethan scowled and pointed to the notepad. “Since those are local phone numbers, I guess that means you saw dolphins?”

Her pen scribbled across the page. “Nope, not a single one.” When she looked up, it was to find him fighting a smile.

“But you decided to stay anyway,” he concluded, relaxing back into the smug Ethan that she’d come to know so well.

“This is my home,” she said simply. “And despite having no formal degree, I figured I can try my luck with something in software.”

“That’s the only reason you wanted to stay?”

It was posed as a dare—a dare to tell the truth and admit her feelings for him. Brooke stared right back, unwilling to break first. “Are you ever going to get around to why you’re here?”

He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment and then said, “Ken wants to see you.”

Her face fell a little. “What for?”

“No idea.”

But Brooke had a feeling she knew. Her shrimp salad began to rumble in her stomach. “Did you tell him about Miranda?”

“You know I did.”

She released a long, drawn-out breath. “I guess it’s best to get it over with.”

When they both stood up, Ethan asked, “What exactly do you think is going to happen?”

“Probably something that will require the presence of lawyers and henchmen,” she answered with a grimace.

“I don’t know. What if he wants you to come back?”

Brooke stopped halfway while closing her laptop. “Is that what he said?”

Ethan shrugged. “At this point, I’m speculating as much as you.”

She continued to pack up. “Then it’s doubtful. As VP, you would be privy to something like that.”

“Would you take your old job back?” he asked. “Even if it meant honoring the deal we made?”

A laugh escaped from her lips. “You mean as your secretary? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His grin said it all. Rolling her eyes, Brooke put her laptop into the case. Then she noticed that Ethan was slipping money into the bill sleeve. She made a grab for it. “I can pay for my—”

“Just speeding things along, Monroe.” He put a hand under her elbow and directed her toward his parked car. “You can ride with me. I’ll bring you back here afterward.”

For the first time since that awful day, Brooke sat in her father’s old office feeling awkward in her sundress. The masculine combination of dark walls and wood surrounded her like a long-lost home, yet it was a place she never expected to see again. The fact that another man occupied it and had even fired her was an open wound that she never expected to heal, which is why she sat before Ken Stevens in a state of extreme confusion. “I don’t understand. This isn’t about Miranda?”

Ken propped a hip on the edge of his desk. “Your father and I are dealing with Miranda together,” he said, “but that’s an entirely separate issue. Brooke, I’d like you to come back.”

She ignored the skip of her heartbeat and recalled Ethan’s proposed scenario. What sort of plans would he have for his personal secretary? “Not to sound ungrateful,” she cleared her throat, “but…doing what, exactly?”

Ken’s mustache twitched. “You want that corner office, don’t you?”

It was the last answer she expected. With a mixture of joy and discomfort, she rubbed her palms on the arms of her chair. “Look…I know I was leading that competition when you fired me, but it would be wrong to take Ethan’s job. He’s way more entitled to it than I am.”

Amusement lit up Ken’s eyes. “Did I say you would be taking Ethan’s job?”

Her face burned with mortification. “No.”

“And your answer proves what I already know about you. Aside from the spying, you have a great work ethic,” he leaned forward for emphasis, “and you care. You are someone I need on my team.”

With each compliment, Brooke became more and more wary. “That’s quite an about-face from last week.”

He shrugged. “I’m a reasonable man. In light of the discoveries we’ve made since then, is it hard to understand why I want you back?”

“Kind of. After all, I did spy.”

Ken crossed his arms and put a finger to his lips in contemplation. “Your father and I discussed your actions, and I’ve come to see why you did what you did. Though you were entirely in the wrong, your heart was in the right place.”

For the first time, Brooke truly understood why her father had chosen to sell to this particular man. A renewed sense of wellbeing flooded her heart. “So, I assume you want me to come back under the same terms as before? As Ethan’s secretary?”

Ken’s face morphed into a comically solemn mask. “Is that what you want?”

Brooke laughed. “With all due respect, not really.” “Good.” The man got up, circled around his desk, and retrieved a thick folder. “Because I’m not a big fan of wasted talent, something your father and I also discussed.” He slid the folder across the desk. When Brooke reached for it, he sat down and assumed the position of a man ready to negotiate. “Ms. Monroe, how would you feel about earning a degree?”