The Heartbroker (24 page)

I can almost hear my heart go clunk, heading southward, as it dawns on me what may be about to happen.

“These two took some time to work out they were perfect for each other.
Some
of us knew all along. I’m just saying. So?” She looks at them, waiting for one of them to jump in.

They’re both smiling widely at one another, until Jess turns to us, “Ben and I are engaged!”

Clunk, clunk,
bang
. My heart hits the floor.

Jessica’s friend, Morgan, lets out a squeal of excitement as Laura hugs Jessica. The rest of the partygoers, most of who know the newly-engaged couple well, clap, cheer, and offer their congratulations.

“Isn’t it exciting? You know them, right?” Alexis asks.

“Yeah, I do.” She’s the woman who had an affair with Scott. Great memories.

“Come and congratulate them with me. I don’t know Jessica or Ben very well, but I’d love to talk weddings with them.”

“Sure.” I square my shoulders. Jessica deserves happiness just as much as the next person. After all, she didn’t know I was with Scott when she slept with him. He was the love rat, not her.

We walk through the crowd towards the happy couple. We line up behind a group of others, all jostling to offer their congratulations. It’s like a frigging royal line up and I’m a mug standing there, waiting to pay my respects.

“Hi, Brooke,” Jessica says brightly when we get our turn. “I love your hair. You look amazing. Welcome back to the brunette club.” She gives me a light hug.

“Thanks. And congratulations.”

“You’re so sweet. I really appreciate you saying that.” She leans in, adding, “You know, after everything.”

I nod at her. “Yeah. Water under the bridge, huh?”

“Water under the bridge.”

Ben interrupts our moment. “Hey, Brooke. I haven’t seen you for ages. How are things?”

“Oh, fantastic!” I smile as brightly as I can muster.

Alexis shoots me a sideways glance, but what else can I say? I’m hardly going to say ‘my boyfriend, who I thought loved me, stole the business I’d worked years to build up, leaving me destitute, jobless, with a broken heart’. Am I?

“You two make a cute couple,” I say, diverting attention back to them.

I might have made my peace with Jessica, but I don’t need to go back over my recent disasters, just as I’m beginning to pull my life together.

They grin like the lovesick puppies they are as I back away.

“Ow!” a woman behind me shrieks, almost deafening me.

I turn around and notice I’m standing on Lucinda’s toes. She’s wearing black strappy heels about one hundred inches high—as befitting the porn star she’s dressed as tonight—and one of my nude heels is crushing her toes.

“Oops. Sorry, Lucinda.” I move my heel away, even though I’m sorely tempted to give it a quick turn before I do.

“Watch where you’re going, Brooke. You’re so
fucking
clumsy,” she growls at me.

I blink at her in shock.

She might be a sex siren, intent on rubbing us mere mortals’ faces in her assets—not literally in my case, thank goodness—but I’ve never had her pegged as nasty.

She pushes past me to get to Jessica and Ben.

“I’m so excited for you both,” she gushes, grabbing their hands, oozing sweetness and charm.

I’ve almost got whiplash from the change in her mood.

“Err, thanks, Lucinda,” Jessica replies uncertainly. She turns to me. “Are you all right?” Concern is etched on her face.

“Yeah, thanks.” I still feel stunned.

She leans in closer so only I can hear her. “Don’t worry about her. She’s a total bitch.”

I grin at her, nodding. “That she is, Jessica. That she is.”

“And what’s more, you look
so
much better in that dress.”

“Thanks.”

The music starts up again and people begin to dance.

I may be trying out this new and improved version of myself, but I think I’ve had enough of this party. All I want to do now is go home and curl up in my PJ’s.

“Hey, are you leaving already?” Alexis asks as I grab my jacket from the mountain of coats on Laura and Kyle’s bed.

“Please don’t tell Laura. I know I’m bunking out on her birthday party.”

“That’s okay. She’ll understand. Are you okay?”

Am I okay? I think before I answer. I’ve successfully sported the new ‘I’m-over-him’ hairdo, weathered a beating at Lucinda’s catty hands, and made peace with Scott’s former lover. All without falling to pieces. I’m actually pretty proud of myself.

“You know what? I am.” I hesitate. “Or at least I know I will be.”

I give Alexis a hug and head home, knowing with certainty my future will be better than my past.

I’m Brooke Mortimer: I’m tough, I’m driven, and you can bet your life I’m not going to be beaten.

THE NEXT DAY I wake to the sound of birds chirping their morning chorus in the tress as the sun shines in the sky. For the first time in a long while, I decide to go for a morning run. It’s hard work and I’m astonished at how much fitness I’ve lost in such a short space of time. It’s so good to be out in the fresh air, getting my blood pumping around my body.

I’m beginning to feel more like me, less like the shell of a person I’ve been recently. And man, it feels good.

Every time my mind takes the inevitable path to Logan I force myself to think of something happy—bunnies hopping through sun-filled fields of lavender, that sort of thing—and, for the most part, it’s working.

If I sit around too long I get agitated: I need to
do
something. And I’ve been sitting around way too long. It’s time to move on. It’s time to leave what’s happened in the past right there where it belongs: in the past.

I pick up my phone and dial Dad’s number.

“Hey, kiddo. How are things?”

“Good, thanks, Dad. I’ve got a proposal for you.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Well, I’ve made a decision. I’ve decided I want to get on with my life. Do something with it, I mean.”

“Ah, you want to need to grab the bull by the horns?”

“Exactly.”

He laughs. “That sounds great to me. Where do I come in?”

“You know you mentioned a while back Sydney Garrett had poached Tyler?”

“Yes. How could I forget? Scheming bastard, kicking a man when he’s down.”

“Have you managed to find a replacement for him? Because I wondered if you would like me to come and work for you for a while? I have the big payout from
You: Now
so I don’t actually need a job, but I’m itching to get back out there and
do
something.”

Dad chuckles. “That sounds like my girl.”

“So?” I wait, hopeful.

“I’m so glad you asked, kiddo. I haven’t had the chance to get someone new and I would love you to come and work for me. In fact, I had thought of asking you myself.” I can hear the smile on his face.

“Thanks!”

“I’ve got a load of projects on at the moment, and my priority is—has to be—with Jennifer during her treatment.”

“Of course! And I’ve worked for you enough in the past to know the ropes pretty well. What I don’t know I’ll pick up really fast, I promise.” My excitement rises like a hot air balloon at the prospect of getting back out into the real world.

“I think this is a wonderful idea, kiddo. What are you doing on Monday?”

“Hang on, let me check my calendar,” I say down the line. “Well would you look at that? Turns out I’m free on Monday.”

Dad chuckles. “Come and see me at my office tomorrow morning at eight and I’ll take you through what I need you to do, okay?”

“Sounds great. And, Dad? Thanks.”

“See you then, kiddo.”

* * *

I arrive at Dad’s office first thing on Monday morning with coffee in hand. I’ve donned my favourite dress and styled my hair into a simple high ponytail. It feels good to be back in the land of the living.

I walk through the door and Dad waves at me, indicating for me to take a seat as he finishes his phone call.

I look around his office, reminded of how I used to spend my summers working here as a teenager, doing odd jobs and admin things for him. It was probably just an excuse for him to give me more pocket money than anything else.

“Hi Brooke.” He gets up from his desk and giving me a warm hug. “It’s great to have you here. Wowzers, kiddo: I love the hair!”

“Thanks, Dad. I thought I’d go natural for a change.”

“It was the right decision. You look great.” He collects me in a hug.

“How’s Jennifer today?”

“She’s doing all right. A bit tired and sore, but her spirits are high.”

“That’s good. I’ll pop in and see her this afternoon.” I haven’t been to see her for a while, and I’m beginning to feel guilty.

“Actually, I think you might be a bit busy today, kiddo. You do know I’ve got this new development right now, don’t you?”

“The green fields one in Aotea?” I ask, referring to a residential development in one of the city’s outer suburbs Dad has been working on for months.

“That’s the one. Come and sit with me and I’ll take you through where we’re up to.”

We sit together with a site map of the land and a variety of documents as Dad takes me through the steps so far and what needs to be completed next.

“As you can see here on the project management sheet, we are in the final stages of getting these land parcels ready for sale and these ones for construction.” He points at two different areas on the map.

“This is a big project, Dad,” I comment, taking as much of the information in as I can. “How many houses are you planning on building?”

“Ten. You can see why I need your help,” he comments. “If you hadn’t become, err, free, I would have had to employ someone else, thanks to Garrett.”

“Maybe it was all a master plan.” I smile coyly at him.

I’m making some major progress if I can joke about what I’ve been through.

“Maybe.” He smiles kindly.

“Right. Where do you want me to begin?”

“These land parcels over here are almost ready to be marketed, so there’s not much more to be done there.” He circles an area on the map. “It’s here I want you to focus. I need you to meet with the architect this morning to discuss plans, dates, that sort of thing. They are expecting me at eleven-thirty on site. I’ll call them to let them know it will be you instead.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll need to head home to get my car first. Who am I meeting?”

“You’re meeting my usual architect’s sidekick. She’s new. Now what’s her name?” He searches through his project plan. “Anita McAndrew. That’s the one. You’ll need to meet her at Lot Twelve. Here’s a checklist of the things you’ll need to cover off, as well as some notes from our initial meeting.” He hands me a file.

“Okay.” I take it from him and colleting my things. That name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t work out from where. “I’ll have a read through at home when I grab my car.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiles with obvious pride in his eyes.

I smile back at him, basking in my newfound assurance I don’t have to be the most successful businesswoman in the city to hold his affection.

Shame I had to lose my company to learn it.

* * *

I reach the site at Aotea just over an hour later, wanting to scope it out before the architect arrives. It’s a wet, blustery, and unpleasant day—the type Wellington specialises in at this time of year—and I pull my coat hood over my head to protect me from the virtually horizontal showers.

The site has been subdivided and I can see evidence of utilities already in place at each plot. So far so good. I wanted to check the light planes, per Dad’s check list, but the low clouds and rain have put a literal—as well as metaphorical—dampener on that idea.

There’s only so much battling of the elements a girl in heels can manage, so I give up after about ten minutes in the driving rain, heading to the sanctuary of my car.

Almost as soon as I shut my door and remove my dripping jacket there’s a knock on the passenger window. Despite bearing more than a passing resemblance to one of those Sand People from Star Wars, with her hood tied tight around her face and her bespectacled face poking out, I know it must be Anita McAndrew.

I lean over and open the passenger door. “Are you Anita?” I ask as rain drives in through the door and onto the passenger seat.

“Yes. Can I hop in?” A gust of wind blasts her from the side, pushing the door open further.

“Of course,” I reply, wishing I’d brought a towel: we could both do with a decent drying off right now.

She grabs hold of the door and pulls it closed as she sits down, water dripping from her coat.

“It’s feral out there!” She removes her wet glasses and hood, turning her from Sand Person to human being.

“It sure is. I’m Brooke Mortimer. It’s nice to meet you, Anita.” I proffer my hand.

She takes it, shaking it with vigour. “I hoped it might be you.” A grin spreads across her face. “When Roger, I mean your dad, said he was sending his daughter in his stead this morning, I expected Grace.”

I regard her with confusion and a tinge of amusement. She clearly knows who I am, but I can’t reciprocate.

“Well, I’m glad it’s me then.” My laugh is tinged with a hint of nervousness: I’m not really sure how to respond.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Her face drops as she narrows her eyes.

I search my mind but come up with a big fat zero. “Sorry.” I shake my head.

To my relief she shrugs, a fresh smile breaking out on her round face once again. “That’s okay. I was a couple of years younger than you at the time. You dated my big brother in high school.”

“You might have to narrow it down for me a bit, Anita. I went out with a few guys back then.”

“I’m sure you did. You were the most popular girl in your year, and so pretty. Not that you’re not pretty any more, of course. You’re gorgeous,” she adds. “I really looked up to you. You were my role model in high school.”

She’s a one-woman fan club.

“Who’s your brother?”

“Steve McAndrew.” She beams at me. “I think you were about fifteen when you dated? He’s a graphic designer in Auckland now. Married. Happy.”

My mind darts back to Steve, cute and lanky in his school uniform. We would get together after school and kiss for hours, adding in the odd fumble over our clothes for good measure. We only dated for a couple of months, but of course it felt like a serious, long-term Relationship Of Significance back then.

“I remember you. You and I used to chat a bit, didn’t we?”

“We did. You gave me such advice at the time. I’ve followed your career, actually.”

“You have?” I ask in surprise.

“Yes. You’ve done such great things. Are you still running
Live It
?”

“Ah, no.” I feel the now familiar pang of loss, although not as acutely as I once did. “
Live It
is over.”

“That’s a shame. I did one of your seminars and got a lot out of it.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You’re working for your dad now?”

“Yes, just for the time being. Until I work out what to do next.”

She nods at me, smiling. She has such a sweet expression on her face I’m compelled to share with her what had happened to my company. I omit the Logan part of the sorry tale—I prefer not to have to think about him these days.

“That’s so shitty. Poor you. You’ll bounce back. Someone like you always will.”

I smile at her. “You know what, Anita? You’re right. Not about the ‘I’m-so-great’ bit,” I clarify with a laugh, “about the bouncing back bit.”

Life isn’t over. I will create a new life for myself. Sure, I don’t know what it will be right now, but that’s all part of the fun.