Two

2

BROOKE

ehave,” Mom admonished me as we got out of the car. “I will.”

“I don’t want you drinking too much. These are your father’s colleagues. You will be working for these people. Your father pulled strings to get you that job. Do not embarrass him.”

“I won’t embarrass him, or you.” I didn’t know what I did that had Mom so agitated.

We hurried inside, the true cold of winter had hit, and even though the streets were icy, the foundation had insisted on holding their gala. Didn’t they have any locals on the planning committee? Surely someone would have pointed out that if we were going to get snow it would happen the second weekend in January. It always happens on the second weekend. Atlanta simply did not have the infrastructure to deal with the snow and ice, making going out somewhat hazardous.

But hazardous conditions aside, Dad was expected to make an appearance at this event. We stopped at the coat check, full of unfashionable heavy coats and thick sweaters that only came out on snow days and did not coordinate with anyone’s formal attire.

I also didn’t understand why this event had been planned so soon after the new year. Didn’t they realize everyone was tired of partying, and it was time to curl up and try to stay warm?

I took off my coat and handed it to Dad. Mom made a noise. I glanced over and caught her sneering at my dress.

“What?” I dared her to say anything about what I was wearing.

She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just that, well. I don’t think that dress suits you.”

“It’s the only dress I own that is fancy enough.” We were at a black-tie affair; I wore my best dress.

Mom hadn’t given me much warning about my attendance, so shopping for anything was out of the question. Not that I would have. I liked the dress, it fit, and I thought I looked good in it. It was a deep red, with lace over a nude lining on the bodice, and running down the sides. Velvet panels in the front and back completed the skirt. It wasn’t particularly low cut, but I always had cleavage. My boobs practically gave me cleavage in crew-necked T-shirts. The rest of the dress skimmed over my curves. I felt glamorous and thought I looked hot.

“What’s wrong with my dress?”

“Maybe you could get away with that in Scotland, but I don’t think we’re ready for it here.”

“I bought the dress in New York.”

We continued into the main ballroom area of the event. As people looked over to see who was arriving, Mom got close and began speaking to me with a hissy whisper. “People are staring. I don’t think that dress fits properly. It’s too revealing.”

I held out my arms, palms up, and looked down at myself. I had lace from my wrists to my shoulders. It was Dad’s genetics that gave me the boobs. If she had a problem with those, she needed to take it up with my paternal grandmother.

“Mom, no one here thinks I’m naked under the lace.”

“Everyone here knows you’re naked under the lace,” Dad chuckled.

“Peyton!”

“Dad!”

We yelled at him at the same time.

“You are in a room full of medical professionals. We all are aware that everyone is naked under their clothes. I see Dr. Peterson; I need to go speak to him. Go find Mark, he should be around here somewhere.”

With that, Dad left us.

“So, you don’t like the lace? Or what is it that you don’t exactly like, Mom?” “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re right, but you did. So, let’s have it. You don’t like my dress, or you don’t like me in this dress?”

“I simply think you could have picked something less revealing. You could have borrowed something from my closet.”

I barked with laughter. It was a complete non-feminine like move, but Mom was being a real comedian.

“Brooke!”

“You’re hilarious,” I said. “We are not the same size, not even close.” “I know that. Maybe if you paid a little more attention to how you ate.” “Mom.”

I was starting to figure it out. By revealing she didn’t mean showing off too much skin, she meant showing off too much me.

She plucked at the fabric on my shoulder. “Men want a little mystery from their women.”

“Why are you all of a sudden talking about what men want? I don’t really care.”

“I worry, you aren’t dating. And then you dress like this, and…” she let out a

heavy sigh. “You have such a pretty face. I just think better fitting clothes and a healthier diet.”

“Good evening, ladies,” Doctor Mark said as he stepped up to us. “How were your holidays, Brooke?” he gave me a little nod before turning his attention back to Mom.

“Oh, they were so much quieter without Rhys around.”

“Sorry I wasn’t noisy enough for you.” I shifted my weight and crossed my arms. I was in for a long conversation about how difficult it was for Mom to have her children gone. From the way she talked, she sounded like some geriatric person who never saw her family.

“I’m going to go find the canapes,” I said pointing off in the distance.

Mom grabbed my wrist. “No dear, remember what we were talking about. Dinner will be served soon enough.”

“Hey Mark, good to see you.” Dad was back and extending his hand out to Doctor Mark as if he hadn’t just had lunch with him at least twice this past week.

“Peyton.”

“Karen, would you join me? Dr. Peterson would like to make introductions with his wife.”

“I’ll be right over.” Mom patted him on the hand, effectively shooing him away.

“Mark, tell her what men want in a woman. She won’t listen to me.”

He raked his gaze down my body. I didn’t miss that look, but mom certainly had. “I don’t think I’m the right person to be telling that to Brooke.”

“Nonsense, of course, you are, you’re a doctor.”

Mom fidgeted with anxiety. She kept looking over her shoulder at Dad. Everything about her body language said she couldn’t be bothered with me at the moment, but she was fully distracted by me, at least until she was certain she had made her point. I wasn’t going to concede. I thought she was wrong.

She harrumphed and flapped her hands at me. “I need you to set her straight. I don’t have time for this.”

I made a shooing motion with my hand. “Doctor Mark will make sure I see the error of my ways.”

“I will?” he chuckled.

“Just say yes so she will stop freaking out and go do the elbow-rubbing with my father.”

He laughed some more. I was glad I could be the night’s entertainment. “I think you mean rubbing shoulders?”

I shrugged, “Whatever, go socialize with the elite.

“Go on Karen, she’ll be fine with me.” He patted Mom on her arm, and she finally left with a flustered nod.

Doctor Mark crossed his arms and looked at me.

I put my hands on my hips and stared back. He was ridiculously hot. I’d always been aware that he was good-looking, but I don’t think I ever realized just how sexy the man was. With his arms crossed that way, his shoulders looked a mile wide. The slight graying at his temples was really the only hint that he was much older than being in his early thirties.

I gave him a once-over assessing look. “Well?” “Well, what?”

I held out my hand. “I don’t have a drink, and I’m going to need a drink before I can explain what all of that with my mother was about.”

I liked the way he smiled at me. With a tilt of his head, he wordlessly excused himself and stepped in the way of a waiter carrying a tray of wine glasses. Upon his return, he handed me one of the glasses.

I took a sip, never taking my eyes off him.

The way he licked and then bit his lower lip told me he was thinking things he shouldn’t have been thinking about me. But it was fine by me as I was also thinking things about him, I probably shouldn’t have been either.

“So, are you going to fill me in on what that was all about?” he finally asked me.

“Mom doesn’t approve of my choices.”

He cocked a single eyebrow up, and something inside me went giddy. “And what choices are those?”

“What I eat, what I wear, you know, everything.”

“How exactly does any of that fit into what a man wants?” I let out a bitter laugh followed by a deep annoyed sigh. “Doctor Mark,” I started.

He held up a hand stopping me. “Call me Mark.”

“Well, Mark, to put it lightly, my mother doesn’t like the size of my body and thinks I should hide it. You know, in case anyone finds out I’m a plus-sized girl.”

“And Karen doesn’t think men want plus-sized women with full breasts and hips that are ripe for biting?”

“Doctor Mark, are you flirting with me?”