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Chapter Eleven
“Hi, Penny, it’s David. Are you free this afternoon?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Since you didn’t get the dog from Battersea, I thought you might like to come with me to look over a litter of puppies. A friend of mine has a Golden Retriever who gave birth a few weeks ago. The puppies won’t be ready to be homed for a while, but I thought it might be nice for you to go and look them over. I’ve given this some thought and I’d be happy to buy a puppy if you’d like one?”
“Oh, I’d love to see them, but I’m not sure I could cope with a large dog in my flat.”
“I could home the dog at my place, and you can help me raise it. Kind of share a pet. What do you think?”
“David, this is the nicest thing that’s happened to me in weeks! Thank you!”
“I thought you might be feeling a bit down and I know how you love dogs, so this seemed like a good solution. Why don’t you meet me here at three o’clock, or should I pick you up?”
“No, I’m happy to come to you. I’ll see you at three. Thanks, David!”
He ended the call with a sense of achievement.
* * *
“Yes!” Penny punchedthe air excitedly and rushed to her closet.What to wear?
After trying on almost everything in the cupboard, she decided on pink jeans and a pale pink tee shirt with the slogan ‘I’m not just a princess’ written in silver glitter. It looked so new, she had to wonder if the other Penny had never worn it.
She arrived at five to three, and waved cheerily to Sharne as she passed the secretary’s desk, heading directly for David’s office. Giving a cursory knock, she stepped inside. He was on the phone, but smiled and waved her toward a chair.
“Hi,” he said, ending his call.
She beamed at him. Wow, he looked hot with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie loosened at his neck. His dark hair was rumpled where he habitually ran a hand through it, a habit she was familiar with every day in her previous life. It was bittersweet to see that this David wasn’t her husband.
Impulsively, she crossed to him and gave him a hug, her cheek pressed to his shirt front. Closing her eyes, she breathed him in, that achingly familiar scent of her man, her daddy. Tears filmed her eyes.
Miracle of miracles, his arms came up to hold her.
“Oh, Daddy,” she murmured.
“I know, Penny-Pie, I know,” he crooned.
Tears began to soak his shirt front at the use of his name for her. He had always called her his Penny-Pie.
“I know you must have felt very alone these past few weeks and months,” he said gently.
“Yes,” she whimpered. Did he know, had he realised their connection somehow? She clung to him.
