Page 158 of Our Little Secret

He didn’t call or text.

No email.

And all those raspy warnings from an anonymous caller had stopped.

The silence had been deafening, and, in the first few weeks, put her on edge. She’d barely eaten, jumped whenever the phone or doorbell rang. Not even the sight of the empty berth, the knowledge that he’d sailed off, could ease her mind.

Eventually, her fears had faded.

But she’d never forgotten his vow:I will never let you go. Never. And now he had caught up with her when she’d least expected it.

“Brooke?” Neal brought her back to the present and she saw that Eli was trying to hand her a glass of champagne.

“Oh. Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess.”

Leah gave a disgusted little snort as Brooke accepted the flute from Eli’s outstretched hand.

“To us!” Leah said, holding up her glass before taking a sip.

Brooke couldn’t add so much as, “May you have years of happiness together.” Nor could she force out, “Welcome to the family, Eli.” Because she just didn’t feel it. And it would be a lie. She knew he was an imposter. He was playing some mind-bending, macabre game.

Neal managed a weak, “Hear, hear,” while Marilee, her glass lifted limply in a toast, looked as if she would rather be anywhere else on the planet.

“To family,” said Eli. “May we always be together.” He looked at his bride, then his gaze skated around the table, lingering, she thought, a beat too long on Brooke. Or was it her own anxiety, her painful memory? Or maybe the alcohol she’d already drunk settling into her bloodstream?

“’Til death do us part,” Leah whispered and Brooke almost choked on her champagne.

Hell no!

“Awkward,” Marilee whispered under her breath before sipping and setting down her glass.

The whole scene made Brooke’s blood run cold, but she managed to get through the rest of the meal despite the fact that her insides were churning. She even choked down one of the hand-decorated petits fours that Leah had brought from “the most darling little bakery” she’d discovered in San Francisco.

“Absolutely charming—oh, Marilee, you wouldloveit. It’s not far from the Presidio. You’llhaveto come up and visit. We’ll show you all around.”

Over my dead body!No way in hell was Marilee going to visit them. Again Brooke caught the glimmer of dark amusement in Eli’s eyes.

This was all too much.

The whole scenario seemed so staged.

Leah was trying too hard and Eli—what was up with him? He looked like Gideon and kind of sounded like Gideon. Whenever she caught him watching her, she had the same feeling she’d experienced when Gideon stared at her a little too long.

“I’ve been to San Francisco,” Marilee said.

“Well, come again. There’s just so much to do, to see, to explore. Bring . . . uh, that new boyfriend of yours. What’s his name?”

“Wes.”

“Yes, bring Wes!” she said enthusiastically and polished off her champagne. “We’ll make it a party!”

Never, Brooke thought.

Marilee looked wan. “Sure,” she said weakly. “Can I be excused?” Before anyone could answer she scooted her chair back and shot up the stairs.

Leah watched her go. “Is she okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Brooke said. “I’ll check.”