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She recalled Rich sprinting into their office this morning after going downstairs to the snack bar for a soda. Matt’s PA, Henri, had been there as well, and he’d filled Rich in on how Matt had fired Connie, how he’d heard her yelling, then crying, then outright begging. He said when Matt opened the door and told him to call for security, his face had been stone cold, completely unmoved by the emotional woman.
“You fired Connie,” Penny pointed out.
“I did.”
“Was it…” Penny mentally decided fuck it and took the bull by the horns. “Was it because of me?”
Matt studied her face for a moment. “Don’t you think I should have?”
Penny lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess.” Maybe she should be pissed off at Connie for fucking around with her career, but she didn’t have room for any more emotions right now. Her entire being was consumed with the broken heart. She’d have to revisit her Connie anger at a later date.
“I didn’t just fire her because of you. I did it for Gage, as well.”
“Gage?”
“I didn’t like the way Connie was attempting to insinuate herself into his life by deceit and lies.”
“You care about your brothers.”
“Of course I do. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”
“And yet you say you’re not nice,” she replied with a smile, proud to be able to prove him wrong on that point.
“You’re a fascinating woman, Penny Beaumont.”
Fascinating was one of those words that could go either way, as far as she was concerned. Because being interesting wasn’t always a compliment.
She tried to figure out which way Matt was leaning. She hadn’t landed on an answer when he rose and pushed Toby’s chair back into place.
“Was there something you needed?” she asked when it became apparent he planned to leave.
Matt tilted his head as he held her gaze. “I was trying to understand something.”
She paused, waiting for him to explain, but he didn’t.
“And now you do?” she pressed.
He nodded and walked toward the door. “Yes. I believe I do. Go home, Penny. The work will wait until Monday. Enjoy your weekend and your party tomorrow.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Russo.”
“Matt,” he corrected without looking back.
“Matt,” she repeated quietly.
He left as Penny sat there, feeling like she’d passed a test she hadn’t even realized she’d been taking.
* * *
Gage walked into his apartment just after dusk. He’d worked late, dreading the idea of coming home alone. The past few weeks, he’d left work right at quitting time, always in a hurry to get to Penny. Spending time in her small, brightly lit, cat-filled apartment had been the most fun he’d had in…well…forever.
His place seemed very cold, dark, and lonely in comparison. Maybe he should consider getting a cat. Or two. As Penny pointed out, he had a big enough bed.
Jesus. What was wrong with him? He put that thought away.
He’d skipped lunch, something his stomach was just now deciding to remind him of. Walking to the kitchen, he turned on the light, his gaze landing—as it always did—on the cookbook shelf, on the polaroid of him and his mom.
He walked over to the shelf and picked it up, carrying it over to the counter, replaying the conversation with his brothers. For too many years, he’d carried the emotions surrounding Mom’s death on his own, slogging his way through grief, confusion, guilt, and anger, like a man treading in quicksand.
