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I don’t bother glancing over my shoulder. “What?”
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Penelope warns.
“It’s been a long day. I just want to take the edge off some.” Helping myself to another sip, I turn to find the keys to Uncle Patrick’s work truck dangling from her fingers. “Where are you headed?”
She nibbles the edge of her lip with a wince. “To Mom’s hideout.”
“What’s up with you?” I ask.
“Um.”
I lower my arms. “Out with it, Pen.”
“Dad called while you were in the shower, and I’ve been instructed to stay.”
“For fucks’ sake, I don’t need a nanny,” I snap, whirling on her. “Go back home, I mean it. When the dust eventually settles, and the studio is ready to talk, I’ll head back to the States, and all will be well.”
“Absolutely not. As your manager—”
I snort. “You’re not my manager.”
“I need to be here to strong-arm the media. Gotta make sure they don’t come sniffing around the place.”
“You mean,” I lift her arm by the wrist and give it a little flap, “these arms?”
Her lips thin as she snatches her hand from mine. “Argue all you want, but as long as you’rerecovering, I will remain.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“This house is plenty big for the two of us to have some privacy, if that’s what you’re whining about.” Turning on her heel, she sifts through the keys, heading for the patio door. “Besides, who’s going to welcome the woman renting the mother-in-law suite?You?”
A flicker of unease has me scowling. “What woman?”
I’m shooed with one hand while the other twists the knob. “Don’t worry. She’ll be far enough away that you two won’t even notice each other.”
When she swings the door open, I can just make out Aunt Lucy’s house in the middle of the pasture.
“This isn’t a good idea.”
“Mom insisted. And you and I both know we could use the money.”
That sickening sensation rises once more. She says ‘we’ like my problems are her own.
“I won’t let her get within fifty yards of this place.” She flexes to emphasize my need to be protected.
“This is turning into less of the quiet vacation I wanted, and more like a stint in prison.”
“Marcus.” Penelope’s features soften, and after a beat, she adds, “Something’s gotta give if you want anything to change.”
Her words stamp themselves all over my brain, annoying and unwanted. Still, they can’t keep me locked up. I’ll lose my ever-loving mind, and then where will we be?
Jango’s nails snick across the floor as he leisurely strides toward me. The old dog plops his butt half on the floor, half on my boot, and pants happily.
“Okay,” I concede. “But if she asks about me, I want you to lie to her. Tell her I’m a grumpy old fuck who cusses and yells and doesn’t like to be bothered. I don’t want her poking her nose around here.”
A smile creeps onto her face as she smarts, “Where’s the lie in that?”
I ball up the kitchen towel closest to me and chuck it at her giggling form as she slips outside.
