“Oh my God,” Brooke breathed.
“In Clay’s defense, he did seem reluctant about taking your father’s money,” her mother said.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Brooke said sourly. “Are we defending Clay or testifying against him?”
There was a moment of silence, and Brooke knew why. It was the first time she’d expressed any kind of bitter emotion about what had gone down with her and Clay. She took a deep breath, pushing the anger back. Knowing that if she let it in, even a little, it would consume her.
“I just mean that I think he really did care about you,” Heidi said gently. “And by extension, I don’t think he wanted to hurt us.”
“And yet he took all your money.”
Okay, so maybe the anger was a little bit there. Lurking.
“I know. It’s just, we practically threw it at him,” Heidi grumbled. “We were so determined to support our new son-in-law, and . . .”
Heidi broke off, seeming to realize she was only making Brooke feel worse.
“Is Dad—is he going to testify?”
“Well, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” her mom said.
“You mean to gauge my level of bitterness?” Brooke said. “Like on a scale of one to ten, how badly do I want him to rot in jail?”
Her mom laughed, but it was one of those sad, “this sucks” kind of laughs. “Pretty much.”
Brooke blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I mean, I want him to pay for what he did, obviously. But I’m trying to put it behind me.”
“I know you are, honey. I just sometimes wonder . . . have you thought about talking to someone?”
Brooke frowned. “I talk to people all the time.”
“About Clay?”
“Well . . . no. Not if I can help it. There’s no point in dwelling on the negative, Mom. You taught me that.”
“Sure, sweetie, but I never meant that you weren’t allowed to mourn. I worry that you—”
“I’m fine,” Brooke interrupted. “Really.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“So Ms. Farley hasn’t contacted you, then?” her mom asked.
“Who?”
“Irene Farley. The lead prosecutor.”
“No. Why would she?”
“We’ve just been worried that they might try to bring you on the stand.”
Brooke froze. “They wouldn’t. Would they? I mean, I didn’t know . . . I didn’t have anything to tell them. Why, did she say anything about me?”
“Just that they might be in touch,” Heidi said miserably. “Apparently Clay himself will be getting on the stand, and they’re worried about him being able to charm the jury. They think their best shot is to discredit him on a personal level. Make him seem not only a thief, but, well . . . a callous jerk.”
But he’s not.
Damn it.
Brooke hated that that was her first thought—to defend the man who’d broken her heart. It was just so damn hard to erase the memories she had of Clay. Of the man she’d known. Loved. That Clay might not have been real, but their time together was. Her memories were. Her happiness with Clay . . . that had been real to her, even if it had ultimately also been an illusion.
“I haven’t heard from her,” Brooke said quietly. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“So you wouldn’t testify?” Heidi pressed.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Brooke replied, spinning around the cup of her now-cold latte. “But if Dad wants to, I don’t have a problem with it.”
“You’re sure? Because, honey, you know that we did like Clay. It’s just . . .”
“He took all your money, Mom,” Brooke said, still trying to wrap her head around the betrayal. “I more than understand that he needs to face the consequences of that.”
Just leave me out of it.
“I know that your brain gets that. You’re a smart girl. It’s your heart I worry about.”
“Mom,” Brooke interrupted, trying to keep her voice gentle and patient. “This is why I moved to New York. So that I could get away from all of that.”
Brooke heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Alexis backing out of her office with an apologetic wave.
Sorry, Alexis mouthed.
Brooke waved her apology away. In fact, her boss’s interruption made for the perfect excuse.
“Mom, I’ve got to go. Work calls.”
“Okay, sweetie. Will you call me later? Your dad hasn’t committed to testifying yet, so if you change your mind, it’s really not a problem for either of us. We would completely understand.”
“I’m not going to change my mind. Tell Daddy to go for it. Really.”
“But, sweetie—”
“I love you, Mom. Tell Dad I love him, too.”
Brooke hung up, knowing by now that it was literally the only way to end a phone call with her mother, who seemed physically incapable of saying the word bye to her only daughter.
“Come in,” Brooke said in a bright tone to her boss. “Unless you’d prefer I come to your office?”
Alexis entered and sat down. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Well. So much for small talk.