Bargaining with the Boss (Honeybrook Love, Inc. 2)

No.

No. He was done making excuses for the layers of secrets he just had to deal with because that was Natalie's way. He was sick of being bounced around, not knowing whether she was going to zig or zag.

And, more than that, never finding out the reason for why she did either.

There was no reason for this.

He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't going to deal with this bullshit.

He wasn't going to be somebody's fool.

Not now or ever.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to use the restroom." He handed Natalie the sheet of questions, then marched down the gazebo steps.

"Brooks—" she started, but he shook his head.

"I'll be right back." He walked away without another glance at her. He couldn't confront her tonight. They'd have a talk and they'd make it clear to everyone that they were together once and for all.

He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. After two deep breaths, he splashed some water on his face, and then rested his hands on either side of the basin.

Tonight, he was going to tell Natalie Gains that he loved her.

After that, everything was going to be just fine.

He walked back out the garden, determined to finish up with Franco as quickly as possible so that they could get everything settled. Once they were alone together again, everything was going to be perfect.

She was going to be his and he was going to be—

"What the fuck are you doing with this guy?" Franco's voice cut through the garden and Brooks treaded nearer, listening intently.

"Shh," Natalie whispered. "He'll be back any minute."

"Even better, then you can tell him—"

"Franco, don't. You don't understand, okay?"

"I don't understand? I— Are you kidding me?"

"Look, I know it's not fair, I know that, but just hear me out."

"I know about the fucking roses, though—"

"Don't. Just—"

A twig snapped beneath Brooks' foot, but not before he caught sight of Natalie and Franco. They were sitting close now, holding both of each other's hands as they spoke.

Fuck all.

She'd fucking played him.

All this time, he'd let her have her secrets and her lies and all her bullshit.

And he was being fucking played.

It didn't make any goddamned sense. She wanted to match him up with someone? Maybe so he wouldn’t send her the damn roses everyday.

Still, she hadn't told him and now he'd sat there with a man who was in love with his girl never knowing what was going on under his own damn nose.