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“Let’s meet at the pier for dinner at seven,” he adds. “We can talk business over a couple of beers.”
My lips thin as the doors close. I haven’t had an evening off in over two weeks, and Declan and I had plans to watch the Chicago Bears tonight. I can already hear him busting my balls about canceling, but there’s no room for argument when it comes to my father.
“Sure. Good luck with the rest of your meetings. I’ll call you when I finish up for the day.”
“Don’t be late,” he clips before hanging up.
I pinch the bridge of my nose with a heavy sigh, but something has the hair on the back of my neck rising. A sweet, delicate scent fills my chest that’s familiar, yet foreign. Like a distant memory, it batters my senses, demanding attention like a fly trying to escape through a closed window.
Once I’m on our floor, I pick up the pace, not bothering with hellos for anyone other than our vicious secretary.
“Hello, Margret.”
She makes a show of checking the time before she deadpans, “Good morning, Mr. Anderson.”
“I know, I know. I’m late.”
She has the temper of a hornet, and I’m fairly certain she hates me, but she’s great at weeding out the bullshit, which is why Declan and I chose to keep her on board.
I take a deep breath and straighten my already pristine suit. Outside Declan’s office, I hear feminine laughter, and again I’m hit with that strangely memorable fragrance. It’s reminiscent of summertime, mixed with delicious warm honey, but for the life of me, I can’t place it.
Knocking twice, I swing the door open. “Apologies for my tardiness, I—”
I stop dead in my tracks when I catch sight of the woman sitting before Declan.
“Ah, how nice of you to join us,” he says. “I was just going over the requirements of the position.”
I’d know that wild, wavy hair anywhere, and it flutters like mad when she dashes up from her chair, wobbling before grasping the edge of the desk to steady herself.
My mind short circuits as I cross the room without thinking, like I’m being yanked toward her by an unseen force.
“Pen?” Instantly, my mouth goes dry, halting a thousand questions that threaten to pour from my lips.
I haven’t spoken her name since one drunken night, years ago, when I recounted the summer we spent together for Declan. A time when I loved her the only way two lost souls can love, and we made promises no eighteen-year-olds should have been making.
Then I never heard from her again.
“Are you all right?” I ask when she finally turns.
Her frown grows angrier by the second, but I’m still filtering the shock of seeing her in the flesh. Like a ghost, my past comes back to haunt me. Only, instead of a wraith, I find a fully grown, breathtakingly beautiful woman.
Her hair waves in a playful, careless way that frames her pretty face and dark brows, accentuating those deep brown eyes which hold the same wonder for the world I always loved, but have sharpened with time.
Sun-kissed and stunning in a cream pantsuit and lavender top, she looks every part a polished businesswoman. But the longer I study her, the more cracks I see in her armor.
“I-I was just leaving,” she stutters.
When my eyes fall to her bare feet, her toes curl, and damn if that one little reaction doesn’t knock something loose within me.
I don’t have to look at Declan to know what he’s thinking. In fact, the idiot happily voices his thoughts.
“Ah, so this is Penelope.” His voice carries the tell of a smirk, but I can’t take my eyes off her—the only woman, past and present, who’s had my heart in a vicious chokehold. “I knew I recognized your name.”
“Declan,” I warn coolly. I don’t need her to know how much it hurt to lose her, and I certainly don’t want her to know I’ve never truly gotten over that summer.
The tone shuts my friend up while eliciting a shiver from Penelope.
I cock my head.
