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My friend sputters a snort-cough when Pen karate chops my wrist. I blink at her, rubbing the spot in surprise before she grabs the base of my tie and hauls me down to her face. “I’ve done enough waiting, Logan Anderson, and I won’t wait a moment more.”
An animalistic noise rumbles my chest at how pretty she is, even in anger. Hell, especially in anger. But none of what she’s saying makes sense. She’s the one who cut ties twelve years ago, after promising me a future she had no intention of seeing through. Gone. Ghosted, just like that.
So why the hell is she furious with me?
From my periphery, Declan slowly removes a bag of chips from his desk drawer, watching the show with wide-eyed amusement.
Our noses are barely an inch apart as she seethes. “I never would’ve applied for this position if I’d known I would be shackled to you—money be damned.”
She might as well have slapped me for as much as that remark stings, but no matter. In her fury, she’s given me a vital piece of information. “So, it’s money you need? Odd, considering your father is a billionaire.”
“Well, unlike you, I don’t depend on Daddy’s money to survive.” Pen watches my gaze fall to her heart-shaped lips, and with a huff, she releases me. “Just forget I was ever here.”
I slide the top of my tie back into place before dusting my hand down the front of my jacket. Forget? Un-fucking-likely.
I’ve tried and failed to forget Penelope Vance the same way I’ve tried and failed to fill the yawning void she left behind, because forgetting this woman is like wishing to unravel time, useless and impossible.
She makes it halfway to the door before I smoothly offer, “I’ll double your pay.”
Declan makes a chuffing noise, throwing his arms up dramatically, but a warm sense of satisfaction slithers up my middle when she pauses at the threshold. “Consider it a birthday gift.”
If she’s even remotely taken aback that I’ve remembered what day it is, she masterfully conceals it, swiping the arrogant smile from my lips. “There’s not enough money in the world to make me say yes.”
Without another word, she swiftly exits the office, leaving me and Declan in suffocating silence.
“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Dec muses before settling back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He then frowns, growing serious. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.” He pats his lap. “Here, come talk to Poppa.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He flashes a grin when I make for the exit. “Gosh. You really do say the sweetest things.”
Laughter follows me across the hall where I slam my office door.
Maybe I’m reading into Penelope needing money, but the thought of her needing anything sets me on edge.
I can’t stop questioning if someone’s waiting for her back at her place, wherever that may be. Does he make her happy? Is she well taken care of?
The very idea of another man’s mouth claiming parts of her where mine once had ignites a blind rage deep inside me. If I were a better man, I might feel guilty for claiming her for myself… But now that she’s finally back in my life, there’s no chance in hell I’m letting her slip away again.
Penelope is mine. Always has been, and always will be.
CHAPTER THREE
Penelope
While I wait for Mrs. Padilla to relieve me from watching her toddler twins, I read a text from my sister.
Pulling up to your apartment now! Can’t wait to party like it’s 2010 and Britney Spears and Paris Hilton are our bffs.
She follows that up with a slew of champagne and sparkle emojis, and then, because she can’t help herself, she asks,
How did the date go yesterday?
Total bust
