She was willing to bet money that they were the same in their determination to move forward.
“I don’t know that there’s much to say other than what you already know.” She twisted her glass slowly as she stared at the melting ice. “I thought I was marrying the love of my life, obviously. And he . . . well, he wasn’t the man I thought he was. Literally and figuratively.”
“Have you spoken with him since his arrest?”
“No.”
“Perhaps you should.”
“He’s in prison,” she snapped. “His first phone call was to his lawyer, and I’m sure you can understand why I wasn’t falling all over myself to visit him.”
Seth held up his hands in surrender. “I struck a nerve. Apologies. I just think it could be healthy to get some closure.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Gosh, thanks, I haven’t heard that one before from people who actually know me. And on that note, are you all chatty with your ex? On good terms? Got closure, have you?”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You’re not at all as sweet as you look, are you?”
“Usually I am. You bring out the worst in me.”
He smiled at that. “Perhaps we should steer clear of personal topics, then. It makes you surly.”
“I’m not surly,” she ground out. “I’ll talk about the Clay thing. What do you want to know?”
“Promise not to lose your shit?”
“Nope, I do not promise that,” she said sweetly. “So tread carefully.”
Seth leaned forward and held her gaze. “A man you were in love with—a man you were planning to marry—was lying to you. For years. Using you in the worst possible way, pretending to be something he wasn’t. And deny it all you want, but he hurt you.”
Brooke swallowed and said nothing.
“That’s your business, and I won’t pry,” he said quietly. “As you pointed out, we’re practically strangers. But what I want to know is why you refuse to consider the possibility that Neil Garrett might be just like Clay. Not a con man, per se, but if Clay wasn’t exactly everything that he said he was, what makes you think Garrett is? What makes you believe that Clay’s the only shithead out there and that you’re the only woman who’s been betrayed in the worst kind of way by a man?”
To her utter horror, Brooke felt tears pricking at the back of her eyelids, and she blinked quickly to force them back before lifting her chin and looking at him defiantly.
“Because I want to believe it. My job is putting people on the path toward happily ever after, Mr. Tyler. In order to do my job well, I have to believe it. I have to.”
He stared at her a moment longer before giving a short shake of his head.
“Come on,” she cajoled lightly. “Surely you don’t think that, just because your ex wasn’t the one, happy endings don’t exist.”
Seth tossed back the rest of his drink and stood. “Actually . . . that’s exactly what I think. I also think I’m the only one in this room that has my head on straight.”
Chapter Sixteen
SETH’S HARSH DECLARATION HUNG between them for several seconds.
Brooke itched to argue—to tell him that he was wrong. That happy endings do exist. That just because they hadn’t happened for them yet didn’t mean that they wouldn’t someday.
The angry stubbornness on his face stopped her. If she didn’t want him prying into her life, she couldn’t very well go prying into his.
But she wanted to, and that puzzled her. The man wasn’t even likable. He was uptight and irritable and went from being deadly sexy to outright cold in the blink of an eye. He was also the type of man who took one nasty setback in romance and decided to forgo all hope. Exactly the type of pessimist she’d always abhorred.
However, there was something in his expression beyond the stubbornness that beckoned to her. A pain that he refused to acknowledge. A pain that she felt strongly compelled to fix, even as common sense told her to steer the conversation back to his sister’s wedding and put professional boundaries between them.
Seth’s phone vibrated with an incoming call, breaking the tense silence, but just barely. He picked up. “Yeah . . . Yeah, please send the food up. Thanks, Christian.”
Seth blew out a long breath as he hung up, dropping the phone back on the table, not looking at her. “Food’s here.”
He looked about as happy about it as a man on death row.
Whatever easy mood had settled between them just a few minutes before was long gone.
Brook set her glass aside. “I should go. I think this was a mistake.”
He didn’t argue.
Brooke reached down to put her shoes on. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong about your sister. Neil. All of it.”
Seth snorted. “Because you’re such a good judge of character. And quick to face your demons.”
Brooke gave him a plastic smile as she snatched up her planner and purse and stood. “I think we’re done here. From now on I’ll give my full report of the wedding progress to my boss, and she’ll keep you apprised of the details.”