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I approach the shelves and run the tip of my finger across various book spines, searching for an old photo album from my years spent at the University of Michigan.
The spine cracks when I remove it from the dusty shelf, and I carefully flip through each section until I find the youthful face of Rachel Davenport.
She’s seated beside me on a park bench, her head resting on my arm, eyes gazing up at me sweetly, and I trace her porcelain skin and vibrant red hair—so different from Penelope’s, as was the rest of her.
“How could she have known?”
Rachel was the first woman I dated after my summer with Penelope in Augustine. She ran with the same group of friends I had in college, and after some time hiding her feelings for me, she eventually asked me out.
She was also the first girl I brought around my family, and my parents were drawn to her instantly. She got along great with my mom and could talk with Dad for hours. She was soft-spoken, mindful of every decision she made, and sharp—but the god’s honest truth is that even while we were together, I was unbearably lonely.
In a way, I liked that Rachel was nothing like Pen—loud, anxious, and impulsive—because it kept me from remembering her. But in the end, I had to face the hard truth that I was using my relationship with her to placate my father’s hope that I’d forgotten about Penelope.
I turn to the pages filled with pictures of me, Declan, and our college buddies until I find a group of old newspaper clippings and printouts. Taking extra care with the edges, I slowly unfold them.
A flood of emotions rushes forward, forcing me to swallow them down. I touch a newspaper clipping of Pen and her family standing behind Carrie and her show horse—both covered in flowers after winning The American Gold Cup. The next several photos feature her and her friends that I found on an online profile I can no longer access, no matter how many times I’ve shamelessly tried.
The abrupt sound of Declan cranking the door open has me quickly folding my secrets away and shoving the album back where it belongs.
He helps himself into my office, but not before winking at the project developer who slinks her way into the hall. The curvaceous redhead wiggles her fingers with a flirty wave, but when she catches me glowering behind him, she ducks her chin and scurries off.
I grab a red stress ball and chuck it at the back of his head. “Stop fucking our employees, or I’m going to fire your ass.”
“For fuck’s sake, have you completely forgotten the bro code?” He swaggers toward my desk while squishing a sliver of air between his thumb and forefinger. “I was this close to my first nut of the week.”
“It’s Friday,” I say, utterly shocked.
“Exactly.” Tossing the ball back to me, Declan plops into the chair across from my desk and complains, “Now I’m even more behind schedule.”
“Well, if you don’t want a slew of sexual harassment claims, I suggest you keep your dick in your pants while you’re working.”
“My god… You’re being serious, aren’t you?”
Forever, it’s been me and Declan. Aside from Penelope, he’s the only person in the world who knows me. He also considers busting my balls a full-time gig.
“We’re still trying to make a name for ourselves here. You, of all people, should know how serious this is.”
I can’t afford any fuck ups risking my reputation—or worse, Dad taking it all away from me.
My friend raises his palms. “All right, all right. As boring as your rules are, I promise no more fucking at, in, or around the office.”
“Thank you.”
I sit, propping my feet up on the edge of my desk and leaning back. I watch the ball spin when I toss it up, then catch it, and repeat, oddly dreading this call with my father.
Probably because he never clues me in on what’s actually rolling around in his head, leaving me constantly guessing until he’s good and ready to reveal his plans. Or maybe it’s because he throws new projects at me, regardless of how busy I’ve been upstarting this new branch.
I think back to Penelope’s interview, hating to admit that I could use the help. But it’s almost like he’s intentionally wearing me out—seeing how much I can take before I eventually snap.
It was Declan’s suggestion that we hire an assistant, and although I’m sure we’ll get along fine without one, Penelope’s refusal only makes me want her that much more.
My cock stirs in my slacks at memories of her dancing on the bar, unabashedly gliding her hands over the female in front of her while laughter split her pretty lips into a smile. Then she did the most Penelope thing of all when she broke off on her own, with not a care in the world as we all watched her solo performance.
But my desire morphs into something much more primal when I remember the man who approached her, and the familiar way they got along.
Was it truly so easy for her to forget me?
The tip of my pen taps the desk twice. “Dad’s got something new for us.”
