Page 30 of Fighting for Brielle
Brielle took a sip of her coffee. “Two years ago my dad was invited to showcase his series of photographs of Maine’s lighthouses at an art gallery in LA. Malcom, my ex, recognized my dad and fawned over him. That’s how we met. Dad invited him to eat dinner with us after the showing. Malcolm is an artist and monopolized Dad’s attention, much to my family’s amusement.
“To make a long story short, Malcolm and I started dating, and two months later I moved in with him. Big mistake. He had an artist’s temperament, and, well. . . I just didn’t have the time, patience, or inclination to stroke his fragile ego. Anyway, on the night of his big break, an exhibit at The Broad, I’d spent the day involved in a gang war. By the time I got home, I just wanted to crawl into bed. I totally forgot about Malcolm’s event. He came home sometime during the middle of the night and ranted at me for being a lousy girlfriend, and worse, emasculating him. Then he threw me out of his apartment.”
Justice frowned. Righteous anger swept through him. “What? In the middle of the night?”
“Yes. I bought my house in Laguna Beach the next day. I was sick of living in LA.”
“Were you in love with him?” he asked, his voice soft.
“For about a minute.” Her eyes pinned him. “Okay, Chief. Your turn. What’s your worst relationship disaster?”
Justice blew out his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “I got dumped in a text message.”
Brielle choked on her coffee. “Seriously? What did she say?”
“Uh…two words.We’re through.”
They paused their conversation while the waitress set their breakfast on the table.
“That’s it?” Brielle asked. She reached for the butter and spread it over her pancakes, followed by some maple syrup.
Justice nodded as she handed him the syrup, and he smothered his pancakes in it. “That’s it. Short and sweet. Well, not so sweet. About two weeks later I found out she got engaged to another guy. I figured Clara was cheating on me at least part of the time we were together, maybe the entire time. Who knows?” He shrugged, lifting a forkful of pancakes to his mouth.
Brielle eyed him as if she wanted to taste the sweetness on his lips. “Were you in love with her?”
His eyes sparkled with a devilish glint. “For about a minute.”
She smiled and lifted her coffee mug. “Let’s make a toast to relationship disasters.”
Justice gently clinked his mug against hers. “To relationship disasters. May the last one reallybethelastone.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Brielle murmured, and dug into her pancakes with relish.
While they waited for their check, Brielle excused herself to go to the restroom. When she returned to their table a few minutes later, her face was flushed.
“Are you feeling okay?” Justice asked. “You look feverish.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I think I got overheated from the coffee.”
He heard what she said, but the dazed expression in her eyes belied her words.
“It’s warming up fast outside. How about I call for a cruiser?” He reached for his phone.
Her eyes widened. “No, really, Justice, that’s not necessary.”
He dropped the matter and paid the check but kept his hand beneath her elbow as they exited the diner.
Handing her helmet to her, he asked, “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
She arched a delicate eyebrow, looking every inch like the cute kitten on her T-shirt. “Do I look like I’m the kind of girl who faints?”
Color crept into Justice’s cheeks. “No, no, not at all. My mistake.”
Both her stance and her expression softened. “You’re forgiven. Thank you, though, for being worried about me.”
“No problem. Let’s head to the station and see if we can get any answers to our mystery.”
* * *
