Part 7 (2/2)
There was an awkward silence. Beside her, Brooke could feel Zachary waiting to be introduced or at least noticed, but Samantha Davis had already turned her attention to the girls. She leaned down and put out a hand to Natalie. ”I'm Samantha, what's your name?”
”Natalie.” The seven-year-old's chubby hand slipped into Samantha's as she'd been taught.
”Well, it's very nice to meet you,” Samantha replied shaking her hand. ”Your mommy and I watched a movie together the other night.” Brooke was relieved there was no mention of their first meeting in the fitness room; something she was still trying to erase from her memory banks.
”I'm Ava.” Never one to be overlooked, Ava extended her hand toward Samantha Davis.
”Do you have any little girls for us to play with?”
The look that pa.s.sed over Samantha Davis's face was gone in an instant. ”I'm afraid not. But I have a sister just like you do. Well, she's a good thirty years or so older than you are now.” She turned to Natalie. ”Big sisters need to look out for their little sisters.”
”Uh-huh.” Natalie nodded. ”Except for when they're being 'noxious.”
”Ah, but that's when they need looking after the most,” Samantha said.
Natalie looked skeptical.
”You sound like you have some experience with that,” Brooke said, still unsure why Samantha Davis hadn't departed as soon as she'd displayed her good manners.
”I do,” Samantha replied.
Zachary inserted himself into the silence that followed. ”h.e.l.lo.” He gave Samantha the big white-toothed smile that he reserved for the wealthiest and most influential clients. Like Sarah Grant. He stuck out his hand. ”Doctor Zachary Mackenzie.”
Samantha placed her hand in his and allowed him to shake it. ”Is this your husband?” she asked Brooke.
”Oh, no!” Zachary said before Brooke could speak. He used the dismissive tone that now seemed attached to even a mention of Brooke. ”Well, not anymore.” His relief at not having to claim her was excruciatingly obvious. ”We're divorced.”
”Oh.” The brunette's expression turned cool. Any hint of the warmth she'd shown Brooke and the girls disappeared. ”Samantha Davis.” She retrieved her hand and turned back to Brooke.
Shocked surprise at the slight flashed across Zachary's face; the sight warmed the c.o.c.kles of Brooke's heart.
”Are you going to the screening Sunday night?” Brooke asked Samantha.
”I'm not sure. But I have to say I really loved the first program.”
”Me, too,” Brooke replied.
”I thought they did a good job with the whole t.i.tanic thing,” Samantha said.
”Yes.” Brooke had no idea what else there was to say. She'd cried in front of this woman and sat through an hour television show with her. Other than that she didn't see that they had much of anything in common. But she absolutely loved the way Samantha had cut Zach out of the conversation.
”Well, I'm afraid I really have to be going.” Continuing to ignore Zachary, Samantha gave Brooke a quick hug and said good-bye to the girls. All of them watched her leave.
”Good G.o.d, that's Jonathan Davis's wife. How in the world do you know her?” Zachary asked.
Brooke shrugged, embarra.s.sed by the way he'd fawned over Samantha while managing to distance himself from her. ”We've run into each other a few times in the building.”
”It figures that you'd start meeting the right people now,” he said. ”Maybe you could tell her a little bit about my practice.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small stack of business cards. ”She could help me tap into a whole new level of clientele.”
She stared at her former husband, appalled. If she hadn't been willing to be surgically altered to advertise for him while they were married, why on earth would she want to s.h.i.+ll for him now? Was it possible he hadn't registered how completely Samantha Davis had dismissed him? ”I barely know her, Zach.”
”She hugged you.” It was clear he still couldn't believe it. ”She knows you well enough to hug you.” He shook his head baffled.
”I'm sure she was just being polite,” Brooke said. But Samantha had only been polite to Brooke and the girls. Not to Zachary. This made her smile.
Natalie reached out and tugged on her father's hand. ”C'mon, Daddy. I'm hungry.”
”Me, too!” Ava added.
Darcy woofed.
”You better get going.” Brooke leaned down to kiss the girls. ”Have fun. I'll see you two tomorrow.”
Brooke watched them go, then wrapped the leash handle more tightly around her hand. ”What do you say, Darcy? I bet you're hungry, too. Let's go up and have dinner.” As she walked the dog to the elevator she realized that she felt far less bruised than she usually did after an encounter with her ex-husband. She'd nipped his condo takeover idea in the bud-at least she hoped she had. And then she'd gotten to watch Samantha Davis put him in his place. What a pleasant change to have someone on her ”side.” Someone who seemed able to see Zachary for what he was. And didn't seem to only see Brooke for what she was not.
With a small but satisfied smile, Brooke deposited the stack of Doctor Zachary Mackenzie's business cards in the trash can and stepped into the waiting elevator.
”PRIVATE BUTLER.” EDWARD PARKER ANSWERED HIS phone and leaned back in his chair. A few seconds later he propped his feet up on the desk, ankles crossed. He wasn't due at the Alexander until later in the afternoon. Mornings spent at his home office were decidedly less formal. ”This is Edward. How may I help you?”
The man's voice was deep, but his tone was tentative. ”I have to put on a birthday party and I'm . . . well, I'm, I think I need some help.”
Edward smiled. For so many men doing for others was surprisingly intimidating. ”Do you need help with the planning, the guest list, or the implementation?”
”Yes.”
”All right then.” Once Edward might have said that they weren't really party planners, but the company tagline was ”Making your life more civilized, whatever it takes.” He'd discovered that what it took varied almost as much as each person's definition of what was civilized.
Edward pulled a yellow pad in front of him and uncapped his pen. ”What can you tell me about the person for whom you're planning the event? Do you have a theme and location in mind?”
”She's turning six,” the potential client said. ”It's her birthday. I'm thinking the backyard?” The question in his voice made it seem that all of these things were up for negotiation.
”I see.” This was Edward's best fall-back-and-regroup line. He'd learned it when he was a young trainee. It was used primarily in situations where he didn't yet see at all.
”My wife used to handle all of this. But we're . . .” There was a long pause in which Edward silently filled in the word ”divorced.” But the man said, ”I'm . . . she's . . . she died.”
”Oh, I'm so sorry,” Edward said, meaning it. He could actually hear the pain in the man's voice.
”Yes. Thanks.” Another pause and then, ”So can you organize it?”
”I'm sure one of our staff can handle this for you, Mr. . . .”
”Dalton. Bruce Dalton.”
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