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After about two hours, I stand back and admire my handiwork. There’s barely an inch of the tree that doesn’t have something hanging from it or lighting it up. I love what I see. This is the first year I’ve decorated a tree in this apartment, and I’m so glad I did.
When my stomach growls, I grab a pizza from the freezer and pop it in the oven. I light cinnamon-scented candles, to lend to the holiday spirit, and I keep the Christmas music coming.
While the pizza bakes, I change into a pair of sweatpants and my favorite fuzzy socks. I throw my hair into a bun atop my head.
When the oven dings, I pull the pizza out, slice it up, and sit down at the table to eat.
I’m about to take my first bite when the intercom by my front door buzzes.
Confused, I wipe my hands on a napkin and rise. I push thetalkbutton. “Hello?” I say into the intercom.
“Miss Maxwell, sorry to interrupt you, I have someone here to see you. Would you like me to send them up?”
It’s probably Georgia here to surprise me. I sigh. “Yes please.”
I’ve only talked to her once since I got my new phone, and she hasn’t been thrilled about my recent introversion to say the least. I know I should see her; she’s my best friend, after all, but I just don’t feel like myself yet after returning to the city.
After a few minutes, I hear the ding of the elevator. I go to greet Georgia as the door opens into the foyer. “Hey, Geor…”
I freeze.
It’s not Georgia.
“Brent?” I ask, disbelief lacing my tone. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Penelope,” he says as he stands in my doorway, holding what looks like a garment bag. “Can I come in?”
Moving aside, I open the door wider so he can enter.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Penelope
“Wow,someplaceyouhave here,” Brent says as his eyes sweep over the penthouse. For some reason, I’m embarrassed by the size of the place. Closing the door behind him, we both stand there awkwardly. I’m not sure what to say or do.
He walks over to the couch and carefully sets the garment bag down, turning to look at me.
The scents of citrus and cedar fill my home as he walks through, and I can’t help but take a deep breath and soak it in. It’s one of the things I’ve missed about Winterberry. Along with the man currently standing in my living room.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask.
“Really? I show up at your door and that’s all you say?” He raises his eyebrows.
“To be honest, I have no idea what to say right now. How did you get my address?”
“Well, you didn’t leave it in the notes to my parents or Sally, so I had to strong-arm Ben into giving it to me. Don’t worry, I went easy on the old man.” We both laugh. “Once he gave it to me, I decided to get in the car and come see you.”
“Why?” I manage to croak out.
“You left in such a hurry, and I didn’t even get the chance to talk to you.” He stares at me, and I feel my cheeks heat.
“I’m sorry I left like that, but I knew I’d messed up and it would be better if I wasn’t there. The paparazzi would have never left the inn if I didn’t. And I’d already screwed up with everyone.”
It’s strange seeing him here in my space, among my things, completely out of his element. My penthouse is wildly different from his home in Winterberry. I fight the urge to run into his arms and never let go.
Instead, I stand frozen in the foyer and stare at him. Desperate for something to do, I make my way into the kitchen and busy myself with making coffee.
I can feel Brent’s presence behind me.
