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Eventually, people will stop wondering where I am, and I’ll fade into the background. Maybe they already have.
Is that what I want?
Or do I want to go back to my old life. Back to people who want to know everything I do and everywhere I go?
I pull away, bringing myself back to the present. “I’m hoping Ben will have an update soon. There’s only two weeks until Christmas, so if I’m here for the ball, I’m going to need a dress.”
“Lucky for you, I have an entire closet full of dresses,” she says with a wink. “Although, I’m sure you’ll want to be back in the city for Christmas. There must be people looking for you, right?”
“Only my boss and my best friend,” I say, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, when in fact, it hurts my heart. Most of the world is looking for me, but the only person whotrulycares or misses me is Georgia. Sure, my publicist sent me an email the last time I checked, but that was only to ask me how I wanted to spin the story of Drew’s engagement.
And my agent didn’t ask how I was, where I was, or when I would be home. He only wanted to discuss how I look to the press.
Of course, I don’t tell Suzanne any of this. While I was in the middle of it, I never realized just how lonely and fake my life was. How the people in it were only there because of what I could do for them. Or how I could make them money.
This place, Winterberry, has helped show me that there are people who care about much more than looks, money, or power.
When I get back to Manhattan, things need to change.
“Well, I’ll let you go. Are you going to hang out here for a little bit before you go to the diner?” Suzanne asks as some of the guests start to trickle down the stairs for breakfast.
“I think I’ll read by the fire for a while if I won’t be in your way,” I say as she moves to say good morning to the guests.
“Absolutely not, sweetheart. Enjoy.”
I smile at her as I grab a throw blanket from the basket by the door, plop into the big chair by the fireplace, and tuck my feet under me.
“Penelope! Hiiii!” Nora squeals as she runs down the stairs.
She throws herself at me, hugging me briefly, then rushes to the dining room table. Her eyes are locked onto those cinnamon buns.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” I say. She climbs up into a chair, puts a napkin on her lap, and grabs a cinnamon bun from the middle of the table. Pushing the curls out of her face and licking her lips, she takes a massive bite, getting icing on the tip of her nose.
“Nora, you’re making a mess you silly goose,” Suzanne says as she walks into the room.
“Did I hear my little girl?” The deep voice stirs something inside of me. My palms sweat and my heart starts beating harder.
Brent.
“Daaaaaad! It’s me, it’s me. I’m in here, with the cinnamon buns,” Nora yells.
“Of course you are, little one.”
As soon as he walks into the room, he stops in his tracks at the sight of me curled up in the chair. My cheeks grow warm, and I clear my throat to try and hide the reaction my body gets just from the sight of him.
“Hey Penelope, you look cozy,” he says, eyeing me.
“This. Is. The. Life.” I say back, putting my head back in the seat and looking up at the ceiling.Play it cool, Penelope, play it cool.
“Nora, why don’t you take that cinnamon bun to go? We have some errands to run today,” he says, ruffling her curls.
“That sounds fun!” she says excitedly, wrapping her half-eaten cinnamon bun in a napkin and hopping off the chair.
She runs over to where I am, gives me another hug, and then runs and throws herself at her grandmother. “Thank you for the sleepover, Grandma.”
“Anytime, my little pumpkin, anytime,” she says. She turns to Brent. “Did you guys have fun last night?”
I can’t even look at him.
