“Thanks. Jeanie. I appreciate the thought but I’m really not ready for that,” I tell her nervously, glancing at Saxon once more.
“Well, I would appreciate it if you would come anyway.” Her tone is stern, and I get a feeling there is something more going on than her just wanting to set me up.
“Enough,” Mark growls at her.
Jeanie huffs like a spoiled child. “Fine.”
The awkward moment is broken by the maid carrying in our main course of salmon.
I spend most the meal trying to catch Saxon’s eyes and give him reassuring smiles. He ignores me the whole time, and I’m not sure if it’s on purpose or not as he focuses intently on his dinner.
Anger radiates off him, and I know I’m going to have my work cut out for me in calming him when we leave.
Maybe I’ll make an excuse to go home alone instead of back to his place, and he can just stew on it by himself. Guilt twists in my gut: I know his anger is for me. He’s in protective mode, and I shouldn’t be so damn selfish. But aren’t I always when it comes to Saxon?
“Brooke, I have a few dresses I’d love to get your opinion on before dessert, if that’s all right?” Jeanie says with pure sweetness in her tone.
“Of course.”
Mark’s eyes harden and I immediately get my back up. Why do I get the feeling I’m walking into the lion’s den? She lifts her chin defiantly at him as she stands from the table.
“Shall we?”
Saxon places both palms on the table, ready to push up into a standing position and I quickly shake my head at him. He sits his bottom back down and glares at me. I nod reassuringly and follow Jeanie out of the dining room.
The tension builds as I follow her silently up the two flights of stairs to her grand master bedroom. She steps aside to let me in and I pass her before she slams the door shut and turns on me, seething.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”
“Excuse me?”
“You and Saxon,” she spits.
What. The. Fuck? The blood rushes from my face and rings in my ears. My body begins to shake and I feel a little light-headed.
“I saw it all,” she continues. “The sly touches, the sneaky glances. What are you doing, Brooke?”
I want to yell at her. Scream that I’m doing nothing wrong, that Saxon and I are just friends who are supporting each other in a tough time. I want to tell her it’s none of her business. Just twenty minutes ago she was talking about setting me up with someone else.
“How could you do that to Nate?” she sneers. There it is. Her problem. My problem. The whole crux of the problem: Nate.
Standing up tall, I straighten my shoulders and clear my face. “Nate has been gone for more than nine months, Jeanie, and if I recall correctly you were trying to set me up with men at your country club only one month after his passing.” I try to swallow down the lump in my throat and keep my composure when all I want to do is run.
Jeanie laughs, but there is no humour in her tone. “I’m not upset because you are moving on, Brooke. I’m upset it’s with someone like him.”
The way she says him has my blood boiling. “Someone like what?” I get out through gritted teeth. “Someone loving, caring, kind, and loyal?”
“Obviously not loyal to Nate …”
“Especially loyal to Nate,” I cut her off, “and you know it. Saxon gave up starting his own business to help Nate build his. Now, nine months after Nate has passed he’s still there, putting his dreams on hold out of loyalty to Nate.”
“Or to you.”
“That’s enough,” I fume. “I’ve heard enough, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to you trash Saxon. He has been my only support over the past nine months. He saved me.” I head past her to the door.
“I wasn’t just trashing Saxon, I was trashing you too,” she whispers, causing me to stop in the doorway. “What would Nate think if he could see you now?”
I inhale sharply as she brushes past me in the doorway.
Leaning against the doorframe, I close my eyes and take a huge breath. She knew exactly what she was doing by saying that. My chest is tight, and I run to the upstairs bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I fall onto the toilet seat and let the tears fall.
I can’t do this anymore. It’s a constant rollercoaster of emotions. Up and down. High and low. I’m so tired. I’m so sick of everything being so hard. I want Nate. I wish he were here. I need him.
I cringe at the light knocking on the door.
“Brooke, are you all right?” Concern laces Saxon’s voice.
“I’m fine, Sax, just not feeling well. I’ll be down in a minute.”