“Okay.” Brooke tucked her arm under her head and smiled softly at him, not quite sure what to say about last night. The sex had always been great between them, but that had been incredible. The way he’d said her name, the way he’d looked at her—she’d never felt that intimately connected with anyone before.
That is, until Cade leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
“Knock ’em dead in Charlotte, Brooke.”
Then he stood up and walked out of her apartment.
Thirty
IT TOOK BROOKE almost two weeks to rework her schedule so she could fly out to Spectrum’s headquarters. Granted, she was doing this on the sly, merely telling her secretary that she would be out of the office to attend to “personal matters.” Since she’d only taken three other vacation days in the two years she’d been with Sterling, she figured she was due for the time off.
She did, nevertheless, feel guilty. She hated going behind Ian’s back—although, obviously, she had no choice under the circumstances. She believed in loyalty, and she didn’t relish the thought of having to tell Ian that she was leaving. But at the end of the day, it was her career. She worked hard, she was good at what she did, and she owed it to herself to explore this opportunity with Spectrum.
Thus, on a Friday morning Brooke found herself on a seven A.M. flight to Charlotte, North Carolina. After takeoff, she reviewed the questions she wanted to ask Palmer and the other members of the executive team, and ran through her vision for retaining market share and growing Spectrum’s sports and entertainment division. She’d just begun perusing some articles she’d printed out about the city of Charlotte, when the first-class flight attendant came by to offer her breakfast.
“We have a choice this morning: blueberry pancakes or a Denver omelette,” she said.
Brooke’s mouth fell open. Get out of here. “A Denver omelette? Seriously?”
The flight attendant sighed, as if steeling herself for a two-hour ride with yet another fussy first-class passenger. “Yes, a Denver omelette. They’re one of our most popular breakfast entrees.”
“Oh, no—I wasn’t criticizing,” Brooke said quickly, trying to explain. “It’s just this inside-joke thing. I mean, not with you, since obviously we’ve never met before, but with this other person who . . . you don’t know and who isn’t here and, actually, he isn’t even really speaking to me right now, but if he had been here, trust me—he would’ve found this really funny.”
The flight attendant gave her a no-more-coffee-for-you look. “Omelette or pancakes, ma’am?”
Right. “Omelette.”
The flight attendant set the breakfast onto her tray and made a fast getaway. Brooke looked down at the omelette, knowing exactly what she would’ve done if circumstances had been different. She would’ve taken a photo of the omelette with her phone, and then texted Cade as soon as the plane landed with some sort of quip like, Didn’t realize you were moonlighting as a chef for United, or—even better—And I didn’t even have to put out this time.
Yep, that would’ve been a good one, all right.
A real good one.
Brooke looked out the window, trying very hard, as she had been for the last two weeks, not to wonder what Cade was up to. They hadn’t spoken, texted, or e-mailed since that last night together, when they’d agreed that it was better not to see each other anymore.
That part had been harder than she’d anticipated.
She turned back to the Denver omelette, trying not to hear Cade’s low, teasing voice in her head.
Nine o’clock it is. I’ll pick you up at your place.
I’ll have a Denver omelette waiting.
That’s cute.
She should’ve just gone with the damn pancakes.
* * *
IT WAS A whirlwind day from the moment Brooke touched down in Charlotte.
A car met her at the airport and took her to the Ritz-Carlton for a quick pit stop to drop off her bags. From there, she was whisked away to Spectrum’s corporate headquarters. She met first with Palmer, who then introduced her to several other company officers—she couldn’t say how many; she lost count after ten. She learned all about Spectrum’s mission to “transform the food hospitality industry,” and there was no denying that they were indeed the Goliath to Sterling Restaurants’ David: they were in hospitals, senior living facilities, schools, colleges and universities, corporate buildings, and, of course, sports and entertainment venues.
It was clear what Palmer was looking for in an EVP of sales and business development; in fact, he came right out and told her: someone aggressive and ambitious, someone who would do more than trot out the same old tired ideas and “corporate-speak.” He spoke about the fairly extensive travel that would be involved, and made a comment about that not being a good “fit” for the former EVP of sales.
“Family man, really good guy,” Palmer said. “We just needed someone who could step it up to the next level.”
Brooke had lunch with two of the executive officers she’d been introduced to earlier, neither of whom she’d describe as the most vivacious person on Earth, but then again, there were a lot of stiffs in the corporate world. Luckily, she clicked better with the general counsel, whom she met after lunch.
About two minutes into her meeting with the general counsel, his assistant stuck her head into the office. “Sorry for the interruption. Randy Kemp wants to meet with you today. He says it’ll only take five minutes.”