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"You don't need to pay for it," Penny says. "I can cover it."
Before she even dares to take her card out of her wallet, I stop her, noting the surprise in her eyes.
"Is that just some random piece of jewelry you're buying for yourself, then?" I ask her calmly.
Her cheeks flush in response.
"There's no need to be like that." she says in a hushed voice.
"Yes, there is," I say gently as I cup her chin with my fingers and kiss her on the forehead.
Penny stands still as a statue as I say, "Let me buy you this ring and then, we can go celebrate."
" Okay,” she says, smiling amiably.
As we walk out of the store a group of reporters walking across the sidewalk surprises us. The paparazzi are following us with their cameras, evidently eager to snatch another piece of juicy gossip.
I calmly put my arm around Penny's shoulders as I lead her away in time for them to think about something else to use for their news headlines.
It won't be long before the reporters will be talking about her, me, and the jewelry I bought her to seal our engagement.
Chapter seventeen
Penny
Afteronelastlookin the mirror, I decide that the dress I have chosen for that night fits me perfectly, and is probably the most appropriate outfit to further the idea of my false pregnancy. It is a tight-fitting garment at the neckline, but it is loose underneath my breasts, so it works to complement the idea of a pregnancy.
Sighing, I remember my mother’s words from the last time I spoke with her, as well as those of Grayson, with whom I had talked for hours, and who is still wary. It is still Mom, in particular, whose words affect me far more than I can anticipate. She keeps calling me every chance she has to see how I’m doing.
What hurts me most of all is lying to her. I can see how much it bothers her to think that I’ve been in a relationship behind everyone's back, and that I’m now compromised by a possible unexpected pregnancy.
Eleanor promised me that she would be in New York by the end of fashion week, which is just over two weeks away, putting a torturous stretch of time ahead of me, during which I will have to keep up this charade, knowing that she would see any and all news, and perhaps mistakenly thinking that her only daughter doesn’t trust her enough to tell her something as important as this.
Deciding that I will talk to her as soon as this whole thing is over and tell her the truth, I finish dressing and prepare to leave. One last look in the mirror reveal to me that I actually think I look pretty good, but I keep wondering if Parker will like the way I look in this dress; yet, why do I care about his opinion in the first place?
I can't stop thinking about him since our last meeting, and it is unsettling. I feel awkward, and somehow, like I’m stuck back in that sickly, youthful love that I've had such a hard time getting over, or rather, what is more likely is that I have never gotten over it.
Now, I’m trying to think of a way to reinvent myself through all that happened, while at the same time trying to lighten the burden of guilt. Maybe, if I can separate my sexual desire from my affection for Parker, I will discover that my feelings for him are not as intense as I think, and that will help me deal with the situation better.
Upon arriving in the hotel lobby I discover that my will to do so shatters the very second I see him. He looks as handsome as ever, easily managing to steal the attention of everyone present, especially the girls, who keep sighing as they are unable to take their eyes off him. But, Parker has eyes only for me.
He stands up as soon as the elevator doors open to escort me out, and with a gallant smile on his lips, he walks alongside me and holds out his arm for me to take.
"Ready for the night?" he asks as he kisses my hand and tucks it back close to him.
"I don't know," I manage to say, as I feel a warmth creeping up my neck. "What are our plans?"
"Probably best to keep it a surprise," he says with that insinuating smile of his.
Parker leads us outside the hotel, where a large group of paparazzi are waiting for us.
"Miss Gould, is it true that you are pregnant?" one of the men asks, trying to approach me.
"How much did the engagement ring that Mr. Hamilton bought you cost?" says another of the reporters.
Their questions terrify me and get on my nerves at the same time, but Parker controls himself to perfection. He leads me to the car without allowing anyone to approach me, before getting in and speeding away.
"I promise you, they'll soon forget all about this," Parker says.
