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“What do you need from us?” Declan asks.
“It’ll be at least three weeks before we hear back from the bank. In the meantime, Logan, I want you to work on securing a sponsor for Summit Estates.”
“But I’ve already got sponsors?”
He tuts. “Not those small guys. You need someone big. Someone whose name we print on every brochure, poster, and flyer to help spread the word, and give Summit some credibility. Spare no expense.”
Instantly, the back of my neck heats. “Are you sure you don’t want to send Declan?”
“Why would I send an architect to do the job of the man in charge?”
I click the pen against my desk, desperately seeking an out. “I don’t know. He’s charismatic and pretty.”
Declan winks and I flip him off.
My father scoffs as if I’m a foolish child. “Enough fucking around. Let me know when you get a meeting set up.”
The ‘or else’ remains unsaid, but it’s there, warning me not to disappoint or embarrass him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll catch up with you boys later,” he says, then quickly disconnects our call.
“I’m pretty.” Declan glares. “Actually, I’m going to take that as a compliment. But only because Penelope said the same thing.”
I fail monumentally not to let that tidbit dig under my skin.
“Why are you stressing, anyway? You’ve got plenty of appeal if the ghosts of girlfriend’s past have anything to say about it.”
Except that not a single one of my relationships—if you could even call them that—has been more than a pathetic attempt to move on from the woman who’s gatekeeping the purest parts of my soul.
“That was before,” I say to my friend. “I’m married to the business now.”
He makes a jerking off motion, and I duck when he opens his palm. “You’re thirty and happy to die alone as long as you have Daddy’s approval.”
Declan lays out my life as if he’s got me all figured out. But I suppose a schedule that only affords eating, sleeping, and working doesn’t make me all that deep.
“Don’t tell me you’d rather I have a bunch of whining kids running around and a wife calling up here all day.” I stand, feeling the sudden throb of each scar on my chest pressing against my shirt so hot, I’m certain they’ll sear a hole right through. “We can’t all be so lucky to find a woman like my mother.”
“A Stepford wife?”
I cut a lethal glare his way. “A woman willing to sacrifice what it takes for the sake of our business.”
Reaching for the handle, Dec quietly opens the door. When he looks back, he does nothing to disguise the pity in his gaze, which only makes those scars burn hotter. “We both know that’s not the kind of woman you want. Because if that were true, you wouldn’t spend so much time with Ida, and you damn sure wouldn’t be thinking of ways to get Penelope to work for you.”
“Fuck you, Dec,” I mumble, but he grins at the weightless jab.
“Love you too, puddin’.”
He steps into the hall in silence, leaving me trapped inside a cold office with thoughts of a young woman who wore flowers in her untamed hair and laughed just because it felt good. Whose smiles were like dares she knew I would never deny—like kissing her for the first time or touching her when I damn sure knew better.
My parents never cared for Penelope. They saw her as nothing more than a distraction, but she was so much more to me.
She was a woman who was the complete opposite of the one my father married. A woman who shamelessly defied his expectations, was born of his greatest enemy, and it was that same woman who ultimately claimed my heart.
CHAPTER FIVE
Penelope
