My time in Austin has been cut short. It was fun, but I’m on to my next adventure. Take care. Brooke
“What the…?” He looked up and scanned the hotel lobby. “Where? Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Leroy said in that slow Southern drawl. “She was headed out when I started over here. Got waylaid at the door by one of those director types…”
Keaton rushed to the opening between the hotel lobby and the restaurant, but Brooke wasn’t among those milling there.
He scanned the front doors and sprinted that direction. He hit the metal bar on an exit door, slamming the door open and scanning the drive. A black Lincoln town car sat off to the left, the engine running.
A
nd Keaton caught the split-second sight of Brooke’s dark head disappearing inside. Disbelief clashed with confusion and exploded in anger. He sprinted to the car as the driver turned to look over his shoulder, preparing to pull away from the curb.
“Stop!” he yelled at the same time he slapped his hand against the windshield on the passenger’s side. But he didn’t even pause to see if the driver looked his way before he lunged for the back door handle. “Brooke?”
And when he dragged it open and found a stunned, borderline-angry Brooke staring back at him, the wall Keaton had erected to hold his hurt back crumbled.
“What in the fuck is going on?” he demanded.
“Hey,” the driver yelled back at him. “Get away from the car—”
“Henry,” Brooke said to the driver. “It’s okay. I know him.”
That—like everything at the moment—hit Keaton wrong. “You know me? What, like you know the valet? Like you know the desk clerk? What does that mean?”
“Keaton, please don’t—”
“What the hell is happening, Brooke? Why haven’t you returned my calls? Why are you leaving? And were you seriously going to bail with nothing more than a fucking note?”
The truth showed on her face. She’d been about to do exactly that. But she didn’t look guilty. She released her seat belt and stood from the car with an air of let’s-get-this-over-with dread.
And when she met his gaze, those beautiful blue eyes that had always held such a spark or passion or affection were now flat and resigned. The sight stabbed at his heart. And he knew instantly what had happened.
“Jillian fired you, didn’t she?”
Her gaze slid away, and she drew a deep breath to speak, but everything in her expression, everything in her posture, told him she was already gone. She’d already shut him out.
“It was inevitable,” she said. “Bad timing, but there really wouldn’t have been a good time.”
She was working that positive streak hard, but she still sounded miserable. As miserable as Keaton suddenly felt.
“Why didn’t you call and tell me?” he asked, guilt flooding into his gut. “I can talk to her. If I can’t get her to change her mind, there are other avenues, Brooke, legal avenues—”
“No.” Her rejection was sharp and resolute, and it sparked anger in the pit of his stomach. “You cannot talk to her. It’s over. She’s made up her mind.” Brooke lowered her gaze, took a breath, and softened her tone. “Look, our time together was great, but we both knew it was ending soon. Like I said in the note, it’s just time for me to move on.”
“Move on?” The sparks inside him caught fire. He stepped around the door, took her by the arms, and turned her to face him. But even without the door between them, there were still barriers. Her barriers. “So you can find another adventure? Is that what I’ve been to you?”
“Keaton, this isn’t a big deal.” But now she sounded a little more like Keaton felt, distressed and upset. She tried to pull away. “Tomorrow you’ll find someone new, and—”
“Don’t.” He held tighter, desperate to get her to listen. To admit she didn’t want to walk away from him. “Don’t minimize what’s between us. I know it happened fast, but you know it’s real. This isn’t you. This is her. Don’t let Jillian do this.”
Brooke’s gaze cut to his, and a flash of hurt there burned so deep, it stole his breath. “No, Keaton, this is you. You did this.” Hurt gave way to anger, and she yanked her arms from his grasp. “You know what she’s like. I warned you what would happen. I asked you not to confront her, but you did anyway. And just like I said in the beginning, if she caught even a hint of favoritism toward me, I would be the one to suffer.”
“I didn’t show favoritism. I purposely made a point to include her treatment of everyone on the cast and crew so I didn’t look partial. You think I’d do that?” That cut him. Deep. “You think I’d deliberately hurt you?”
“Brooke, honey…” Their gazes both swung toward the driver, who was standing in the open driver’s door. “We have to go, or you’ll miss your plane.”
She nodded and turned back around but didn’t meet Keaton’s gaze. “None of this matters…” Suddenly, she sounded broken, as if the bottom had dropped out of her fight, and another wave of guilt crashed through Keaton. “This is why I left you the note. Because I knew this would happen. Because I didn’t want to end things like this.”