Looks Like Love

By Brandy Bruce

Following a break-up with her boyfriend, an unfulfilling career, and a general bad taste in clothes, Kasey Addison feels lost in her own life. With the help of her best friend, Amanda, Kasey embarks on an unexpected journey to rediscover life and love, starting with a whirlwind London jaunt. Surrounded by red telephone booths, double-decker buses, and men in fuzzy black hats, Kasey falls in love with mud baths, Jane Austen, and stone cathedrals. And in the middle of London she meets Lincoln Davis, a Texan with a really great tan, and her life gets even more unrecognizable.

When her spur-of-the-moment vacation is over, Kasey, a junior marketing consultant, finds herself on the marketing team for LETA, a growing cosmetics company. Kasey's thrown into the fast-paced world of promotional galas, photo shoots, and magazine interviews. When the owners of LETA decide to release their very first fragrance, Kaseys new assignment is to find out what love looks like and then find a way to sell it. With the help of Amanda and a few new friends, and with a rekindled relationship with the Lover of her soul, Kasey discovers that sometimes love looks like what we least expect.

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"Brandy Bruce has penned a fun novel full of laughs, love, and real life. Her wit and voice shine on every page."
--Jenny B. Jones, author of a Katie Parker Production series, a Charmed Life series, and the award-winning novel Just Between You and Me

With a warm, witty writing style and an adorably self-deprecating heroine, Brandy Bruces Looks Like Love is part travelogue, part survival guide for the lovelorn, and 100 percent fun reading.
Christa A. Banister, author of Around the World in 80 Dates and Blessed are the Meddlers

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 10, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449707026

Brandy Bruce

Brandy Bruce holds a Bachelor of Arts degree from Liberty University. She has worked in the publishing field for more than six years and currently works as a developmental book editor. She spends much of her time reading, writing, editing, working with authors, trying to keep up with deadlines, and making good use of online dictionaries. Originally from Houston, Texas, now Brandy and her husband, Jeff, along with their daughter, Ashtyn, make their home in Colorado. When she's not editing manuscripts, Brandy enjoys traveling, watching movies, baking any kind of cheesecake, talking on the phone with her sisters, browsing bookstores, reading novels, keeping up with friends online, blogging, and writing stories. Stop by and visit her at www.brandyreneebruce.wordpress.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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I wasn’t going to marry him anyway.

At least that’s what I told myself about fifty-two times from the moment he said the words This just isn’t working for me until my car was started and my shaking hands were holding the steering wheel. I wasn’t going to marry him. Not in a million lifetimes would I consider marrying him.

My shock turned into devastation, which soon turned into anger as I ransacked my apartment and tossed every piece of Riley Shepard memorabilia I could find into a large brown box.

Riley Shepard. Boyfriend of eight years and sixty-four days. Dirty dog deserving death.

Well, I should possibly have said, dirty dog deserving death who up until recently was in disguise. Nah, too much work. Dog summarized my feelings pretty well, and even that was being generous.

And so, here I found myself: Kasey Addison, a normally very nice, Christian, twenty-seven-year-old marketing consultant for Jinkson’s Advertising Firm in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, whose life had just been savagely thrown into disaster status. I tried not to think about the fact that if this breakup remained permanent, the last eight years of my life had been worthless.

How did I get here? Was it possible for me to be shocked by a cruel announcement telling me that I was no longer loved? Weren’t there warning signs? Answers: I don’t know. Yes. No.

The box of memorabilia sat by the door, a constant reminder of the end of my life. I refused to call Riley. If he wanted his things, he’d have to make the effort to come get them.

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One week later, I caved and gave into the foolish desire to call him since he had made no attempt to contact me. I thought perhaps the sound of my voice would bring him back to reality. That was when I realized the unfortunate truth: Riley was fine. He didn’t miss me. He was happy. He spoke to me as though I were a dear, old friend who had been keeping some of his belongings for him. He even told me that my friendship was important to him. That was the moment I yelled unintelligibly (think Tasmanian devil) before hanging up the phone and sinking into depression.

For three weeks I avoided all calls from my parents and my friends from work and church. I managed to go to work every day and come home and that was it. I’d even started living off frozen pizza, Chinese take-out, and my faithful friends Ben and Jerry.

Everything changed when Amanda called. Amanda Scott. Best friend since freshman year of college. British chick who went to Penn State as an exchange student. My lifesaver.

The phone rang twelve times before I considered answering it. My voicemail would kick on after every four rings. Amanda would hang up and text me. She did this three times, and I knew it wouldn’t stop until she reached me.

I set aside my pint of Cherry Garcia and reached for the cordless (which was sitting next to me on the sofa).

I’m here.

Amanda’s exasperated sigh was so loud that I could practically feel her breath in my ear.

Of course you’re there. Where else would you be? Getting on with your life? I know you too well to assume that. Which is why I’m calling.

I noticed the scattered popcorn around the living room floor. Why couldn’t I at least lose weight as a result of my broken heart? I’d known girls who couldn’t eat after a breakup. Not me. I’d already cleaned out the first and second shelves of the pantry.

Why are you calling again?

Luckily, I knew Amanda to be the type of sarcastic friend who was not offended easily—not to mention controlling, sweet when she wanted to be, and a little demanding. She was the kind of girl who left London to be an exchange student only to annoy her parents. I was very aware of the fact that other people’s feelings were rarely her priority.

I’m calling to pull you out of depression and push you back among the land of the living. I bought you a birthday present.

I picked up a piece of popcorn from the floor and ate it, hoping it would poison me.

My birthday was two months ago, and you already sent me that skirt that I’ll never wear.

"You haven’t worn it? Forget I said that. You will wear it, Kasey. With your pale skin, the color will look great on you."

Demanding. More than a little.

Thanks for that reminder that I basically look like mozzarella string cheese, I retorted.

Amanda chuckled. String cheese doesn’t have wavy, strawberry-blond hair.

Frizzy, you mean, I interrupted.

"I was being nice, Amanda said bluntly. Back to the current situation. I bought you a present. How much holiday time do you have?"

Not much. I think Annie hates me. Annie was my boss who thought she was prettier than she really was and treated me worse than her pet poodle.

Who cares about Annie? How much time off do you have? Concentrate, Kasey! Have you been drinking?

No, I answered, thinking that it didn’t sound like a bad idea. Amanda’s tone softened just a tad.

Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot. I wish I were there so I could go directly to Riley’s apartment and tell him what I think of him—and maybe slash his tires. But honestly, Kas, it’s time to move forward, and I’m here to help you. I bought you a ticket to come visit me. We’re going to have a great time, and you are going to realize that you deserve better than Riley.

My tears vanished. Suddenly I was quite coherent and pretty sure I had just heard Amanda tell me that she had bought me a plane ticket to London.

Amanda, what have you done? How am I supposed to pay you back for this? I can’t take a vacation in the middle of October. The holidays will be here soon.

What does that matter? Holidays will only make you more depressed. What you need is some girl time with me.

I promised to think it over and later came to the conclusion that it made sense to me. Riley and I usually spent the holidays together, jumping back and forth from his parents’ house to my parents’ house. Maybe a trip to England would help boost my re-entrance into single life. Maybe I would meet a gorgeous, Hugh Grant-type of guy.

I knew it was unlikely. My chances of attracting an amazing Brit were slim to none, especially since I was obviously repulsive to normal, sensible guys like Riley.

I wished I were twenty-two again. Why couldn’t Riley have broken up with me when I was twenty-two and still valuable to the opposite sex? Did he know nothing of the predicament of aging women? Amanda was absolutely right. I should travel. Increase knowledge and gain experience. I’d never been to England. My only European jaunt had been a family vacation to Italy with my parents when I was in sixth grade. Maybe some adventure was exactly what I needed. (Plus, there was always the hope that Riley might come to his senses and start to miss me.)

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Somehow Amanda always managed to talk me into things, telling me later that I wouldn’t have gone along if I hadn’t really wanted to. Usually I believed her. But taking my precious week of vacation the month before Thanksgiving felt strange. Annie had given me that look. The one that meant, Are you ever going to be a normal person? But she’d signed the vacation form and I’d started packing my bags.

Amanda had bought an open ticket so I could leave when I wanted to. She must have been feeling kind. It was unlike her to leave decisions up to me. But I’d made my decision. I was going to England. I was taking this trip for myself, and I wasn’t going to mourn Riley the entire time. In two weeks, my new life was beginning.

Chapter 2

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I was running late on the first day of my new life. It was already 4:45 on Tuesday morning, and I needed to be at the airport in less than an hour. I’d packed my bags the night before. Stupid me, I’d packed my only bottle of deodorant somewhere in my suitcase. There was no way I was going to sit smashed to someone for eight hours and not wear deodorant. So I had to unpack my suitcase, find my deodorant, and then repack my suitcase. But I forgot to put my deodorant back into the bag so I had to stick it in my purse as I ran out the door.

Must remember not to open my purse on the off-chance that I meet my Hugh Grant look-alike on the flight.

After the short flight to Philadelphia, I started to feel relaxed and confident. There was a 30-minute layover before the flight to London. My problems began when the scent of a Cinnabon pulled me in the opposite direction of where I needed to go. Once I had the Cinnabon, I figured I should buy some magazines for the flight and maybe a Snickers or two. Unfortunately, the line in the gift shop was out the door. By the time I reached the counter, I’d finished reading one of my magazines. As I waited for the cashier to run my credit card, I caught a glimpse of the clock behind her head, and my heart nearly stopped.

I had 4.2 minutes to reach gate forty-one. It was not possible that I wasn’t going to be on that flight. That’s why I didn’t think twice before waving wildly when I saw the door closing. That’s why it didn’t matter that the attendants at the door looked at me with utter disgust. Only when my duffle bag was in the overhead compartment, my purse was nestled by my feet, and the seatbelt was fastened across my lap did I allow myself to look over at the person next to me. Not Hugh Grant. More like Danny DeVito.

Not a problem. I had plenty of time to read, sleep, watch a movie, listen to music, or—reflect upon my life with Riley. Or better said, the life I could have had with Riley. Until he’d decided to crush my feelings and toss me aside like unwanted garbage.

Next to me, Danny DeVito had fallen asleep with his mouth wide open—not attractive, trust me. I turned on my iPod and tried to concentrate on the music, but I couldn’t think of anything but Riley. I knew that dwelling on the past wasn’t going to help me. I needed to somehow get him out of my head. But for now, for the next seven hours, I would remember. I laid my head back and closed my eyes, turning up the volume as Danny DeVito started to snore.

Riley and I had met in college—Penn State to be exact. I was originally from Hershey, Pennsylvania, and he was from D.C. We met our freshman year at an orientation for one of the Christian student unions on campus. Riley was there with a group of friends, and I had dragged Amanda, my wonderful, agnostic roommate, with me.

I’d seen him from across the hall. At 6’4", Riley was noticed wherever he went. And in that room, surrounded by students in sweatshirts and jeans and sneakers, Riley stood tall in slacks and a crisp, collared shirt. A relaxed, confident smile was on his face. He’d caught my eye and grinned at me before the orientation began.

We first started talking in the get-to-know-your-fellow-Christians game, during which Amanda had loudly stated that she was not a Christian and was only there because I was too shy to go alone. By the end of the night, Riley had asked me for my number, and Amanda had given it to him.

After living in the dorms for our first year, Riley moved into a frat house full of nutty guys, and Amanda and I found an adorable studio apartment near the campus. Unlike most of his buddies, Riley was focused and knew just what he wanted: his degree in business and then his MBA. He told me several times that he wouldn’t allow anything to get in the way of those two goals. I took that to mean marriage, but wasn’t deterred. I had my own dreams: graduate with a degree in marketing, find a fabulous job, and enjoy life to the fullest. Currently, I was still waiting on the fabulous job part. And to think of it, the enjoying life part as well.

We started seriously dating our sophomore year. I hadn’t dated much in high school. The dating scene seemed to pass over me. I was the girl whose parents forced her older brother to escort her to the prom. But when Riley entered my life, I came alive. He was smart, good-looking, came from a nice Presbyterian family. I finally had a boyfriend. We were crazy about each other. Riley hadn’t dated much either. He was always too consumed with work to make room for things like dating until I came along. So it was the first love for both of us. It wasn’t long before we became a usual duo. Where he was, I was. And vice versa.

We met each other’s parents during the holidays of our junior year and that seemed to solidify our relationship even more. My parents adored him. I thought they were mostly relieved that someone had finally taken an interest in me. But nevertheless, you couldn’t ask for more than Riley. He appreciated my support of his determination to do well in college. I appreciated his respect for my faith and moral values.

I was raised Episcopalian and, for my family, faith wasn’t just something we lived on Sundays. My parents believed in faith as a lifestyle. Riley’s approach was a quieter, much more private Christianity. We learned to appreciate each other’s good qualities and tolerate our differences.

Graduation came faster than I would have liked for it to. For a girl who hadn’t had much of a social life in high school, college had been a dream come true. Amanda and I continued to live together for another year. She still had another year of college before her graduation. Amanda, of course, had experienced more of a social life than most. She could have majored in dating. So I worked temp jobs, and she kept going to school. Riley was in the middle of an internship that had another year to go.

After Amanda graduated and moved back to England, I had hoped that Riley’s perspective on marriage would change, but no such luck. He was just entering grad school. So I found a smaller apartment in Harrisburg and began working at Jinkson’s. Riley and I settled into a routine: work, classes, and dinner together every night.

His parents and my parents couldn’t understand why we didn’t go ahead and tie the knot. I couldn’t either, but felt obligated to support his decisions. Grad school ended, and he had his master’s degree. I waited eagerly for my engagement ring, but Riley explained that he wanted to work for at least a year to pay off some of the debt from his student loans before we got married. It made sense, but I was disappointed. Life continued on for another year and a half. That brought me to the current date.

I would’ve sworn to anyone that our engagement was about to happen. And that’s when, on a nothing night, Riley said the words that changed my life.

We were at Bernie’s Beans, our favorite little coffee shop in downtown Harrisburg. The two of us stopped for coffee and pastries at Bernie’s every Friday night. We were sitting at our favorite booth by the window, and as usual, I had a lemon-filled scone and Riley was waiting while they heated up his extra-large cinnamon roll. The teenager who worked there delivered the cinnamon roll, but Riley never touched it. That should have been a sign to me. So should have the fact that he was tapping his left index finger on the table. He tapped when he was nervous. But in between mouthfuls of pastry, I kept chattering about work. When I finally stopped talking and sipped my latte, Riley spoke up.

With a tremor in his voice, he told me that he hadn’t slept at all the night before. My scone was halfway to my mouth when I froze. Riley wouldn’t propose to me at Bernie’s Beans, would he? Not when there was sugar on my mouth and lemon filling on my fingers.

I think we need to break up.

I squeezed the scone in my hand, and lemon filling spilled everywhere. It was then I’d noticed Riley’s finger tapping the table as he bit his lower lip and avoided eye contact with me. It had occurred to me that as bad as it would be to have been proposed to at Bernie’s Beans, it was far worse to be dumped.

He’d started talking fast—words about how our relationship wasn’t working for him anymore. He sucked in a quick breath and paled as he said, I care about you, I always have, but this doesn’t feel right to me anymore. I don’t think this relationship is going where you want it to go. I’m sorry.

Where I wanted it to go? Those words had felt like cement falling on me. Where I wanted it to go? Hadn’t he told me he loved me a million times? Hadn’t he kissed me and said we’d always be together? Hadn’t he held my hand and told me that he’d always be there for me?

My mouth went dry. What are you talking about? Refresh my memory: Did we or did we not look at engagement rings a month ago?

Riley had hung his head and closed his eyes. A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead.

Tell me you’re teasing. And then I’m going to kill you. My chin had started quivering. He shook his head and looked right at me. His eyes were sad; I’d give him that. But not sad enough. He should have been crying. He should have been hurting worse than he was. I waited for him to burst into tears and tell me he only had six months to live.

He’d stammered that he felt the need to be on his own for a while, maybe date other people. He didn’t feel ready to get married, and it wasn’t fair to keep holding on to me when he honestly didn’t know when he would be ready. He said that I was his closest friend, but maybe it wasn’t enough for him. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of love that made a marriage work. He hoped I would forgive him and understand eventually.

My ring finger had twitched, reminding me that there would be no ring. I had nearly knocked over my chair trying to stand up. I didn’t cry in front of him. I just left. I didn’t look back. When I got home, I sat on the kitchen floor, my knees drawn to my chin, my heart pounding so fast that I couldn’t catch my breath. Break up? He thinks we should break up? Is this possible?

Riley. My Riley. With his steady, dark eyes and that matter-of-fact way he approached life. With his driven ambition and focused personality and that small, sweet smile he saved only for me. What had happened to the steadfast Riley I knew? He’d always been so sure about us. I’d never known him to have the slightest doubt about himself, his career, about me or our future together. The shiver inside my heart scared me. Because even the tremble in his voice hadn’t camouflaged that part of him I recognized so well. The low tone in his voice and the truth in his brown eyes told me that he’d already thought this through. He knew what he was doing. I shook off that feeling and squeezed my eyes shut. I leaned back against the refrigerator and felt the cold seeping into me.

My thoughts raced back and forth from: This is temporary. He’s afraid of making a real commitment to me. He needs some space. It’s going to be fine. He’ll come back to me; to: What just happened to my life? Has Riley lost his mind? I can’t start over again! First dates, blind dates, lonely Friday nights—that was all supposed to be behind me! I should be trying on wedding gowns and choosing flatware!

My mind had replayed Riley’s words over and over. Somewhere around the hundredth time, I felt something inside me dissolve and I started to cry.

Chapter 3

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Amanda was waiting for me at the baggage claim. I noticed her tall, bone-thin frame and stick-straight, black hair the moment I stepped off the elevator. I sighed with relief at the sight of her. My head was aching. I’d fallen asleep and was woken up by Danny DeVito breathing into my face and yelling, over the sound of the descent, that we were landing. And his breath was enough to make me wish I’d stayed home.

I stood at the luggage carousel and tried to focus on each suitcase so I wouldn’t miss my two-ton bag. Once I managed to pull the bag to the floor, I tried to signal Amanda for help but she hadn’t noticed me. I could see that she was clearly checking out one of my fellow Americans. She flew me around the world to visit her, and yet she didn’t even notice me dragging something large enough to carry a dead body. When the cute American finally found his luggage and moved out of the way, Amanda’s eyes bulged and she hurried over to me.

Kasey! How could you bring that wretched suitcase? Haven’t you ever heard of traveling light? At that moment she grabbed on and pulled with me. I had to smile. Amanda. There was no one like her.

Wonderful to see you, too. My trip was tolerable, thanks. No, I haven’t lost weight. Does it really look like I have?

Amanda dropped her end of the luggage and grinned at me. She kissed both my cheeks and hugged me.

"It is good to see you. Have you lost weight? You do look thin. We’ll have to stop by Isabella’s and get a pastry. I’m so glad you’re here."

Maybe it was the jetlag that made me so emotional, but suddenly there I was, bawling in front of a bunch of British people who were pretending they’d never seen a woman cry before. Certainly not in public. I knew Amanda was probably embarrassed, but

Reviews for Looks Like Love

[reviewsbymolly · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I have ALWAYS wanted to go to England, and that's just where I got to go when I sat down and opened this FANTABULOUS book by new author, Brandy Bruce. Her writing style is unique and blends happiness, loneliness, sadness, anger and God's sacrificial love all in one GREATtastic plot line! I loved all of the characters in this awesome debut novel. They each had flaws about them, but they fit their roles perfectly. Kasey's character was dearest to my heart. She just wanted to love and know what true love felt like in return, even though she was in a relationship for 8 years. But, in doing so, she needed to accept that sometimes sacrifices are what it takes to find that inner peace and happiness and love along the way, that can only be from God Himself. I prayed for Kasey's character throughout that she would accept His way and not her own. I loved how Bruce blended Kasey's character so well with Lincoln's character. Lincoln is a guy that any single woman would benefit from befriending! His character was so sweet and God really shined through, through Lincoln. He really added a deep meaning to the story. Definitely a 4 star novel. I highly recommend it to all and it's one I'll gladly keep on my shelf to read again and again. Hats off to a very talented Brandy Bruce and I can't wait for more of her novels!