“What do you think she’ll do?” he asked, pouring a liberal amount of bourbon into his tumbler.
Grant’s expression turned considering as he studied his beer bottle. “Honestly, man? I don’t know. If I’ve learned anything in the past couple months, it’s that I’m not nearly as good at reading women as I thought I was. And if that’s true of me, the certified chick whisperer, then there’s really no hope for you, my friend.”
“Helpful.” Seth lifted his glass. “Thanks.”
“Well, what do you want me to do, man, stop by the wedding shop with pinot grigio and marshmallows and see if she’s been doodling your name in that planner she always carries around with her?”
“I don’t know why she uses the paper planner,” Seth said, mostly to himself. “It’d be far more efficient to use an iPad or an electronic alternative.”
Grant barked out a laugh before letting his head fall forward in defeat. “Do me a favor and keep that bit to yourself tomorrow, ’kay? Say the good stuff.”
“That’s the plan,” Seth said, taking a last sip of his drink before setting it aside and forcing himself to pack at least one more box before the pizza and baseball game he’d promised Grant. Pretty lame way to be spending your last night in a place you’d spent the better part of a year, but then this hotel suite had never really felt much like home in the first place. He figured a nice cheesy slice of pepperoni and the Yankees were a good enough send-off for a place where he was just now noticing the pictures on the wall.
“You’re sure she’s going to show up tomorrow?” Grant asked, halfheartedly opening a kitchen cupboard and dropping a salt container into the open box of pantry items that would be transiting over to the new place.
Seth gave him an exaggerated glance. “Not helpful.”
“I’m a details guy,” Grant said.
“No you’re not,” Seth said. “I am. You’re the big-picture, no-clue-on-execution guy.”
“Fine,” his friend said with an easy shrug. “Looking at the big picture . . . do you think she’s going to show up tomorrow?”
“Jesus,” Seth muttered, giving up on the boxes and lowering himself slowly to the uncomfortable metal bar stool. If the place wasn’t packed by tomorrow, it was no big deal. He owned the fucking hotel—he could move out next month or next year if he wanted.
“So that’s a no,” Grant said. “We’re not sure?”
No. He wasn’t even a tiny bit sure that all of his efforts over the past few weeks were going to do shit to win her back, but he felt good about the plan.
Sort of.
“Alexis said everything was going according to plan,” Seth replied. “And if anyone can make a plan come to fruition, it’s that woman.”
“True,” Grant said. “I only met her once, but she’s sort of like a hot robot, no?”
Seth gave a rueful smile. “I always thought Alexis was a bit like a female version of me.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Grant replied. “A robot. But you’re not as hot.”
Seth gave his friend the finger before reaching out and idly twisting his glass on the counter. “Do you think she’ll come?”
“You mean, does my big-picture genius think the love of your life is going to fall into your arms and maybe swoon a little at your grand gesture?” Grant asked with a sly grin, leaning back against the fridge and crossing his feet at the ankles.
Seth’s heart soared a little at the picture his friend painted. To have Brooke within arm’s reach again, much less in his arms . . .
Grant’s expression turned sympathetic. “Yeah, man. I think she’s going to be there. And if not, she’s an idiot. Okay?”
Seth nodded, appreciating his friend’s vote of confidence.
And yet he really, really hoped she’d be there.
Chapter Thirty-Four
BROOKE WAS JUST COMING out of a bridal shop down in Tribeca when she got a text from Alexis.
You still downtown? Any chance I can ask a huge favor?
Absolutely, Brooke typed back. What’s up?
Larabee Bride is having second thoughts about the Plaza. Looking for something a bit less high profile, more amenable to customization. Any chance you could show her the Hamilton House? I’m all the way uptown, and it’ll take me forever at this time of day.
Brooke swallowed, wishing the favor was anything but that.
She hadn’t been inside the Hamilton since planning Maya’s wedding.
Well, Maya’s almost wedding.
Alexis had had a hell of a time trying to figure out how to back out of a wedding that had already been put on a rush schedule, but even with all the hassle the non-wedding had caused the Belles, Brooke was glad for it. Glad that Maya wouldn’t be marrying Neil who wasn’t really Neil.
Still, she tensed in dread at the thought of going to that space again. Not because it reminded her of Maya. Maya and she were actually on good terms, even having grabbed lunch a couple of times recently so Maya could fill her in on what had happened with Neil and about finally getting together with Grant. Brooke was thrilled that those two had finally owned up to how they felt about each other.
But she didn’t want to go to the Hamilton House.