Текст книги "Irresistibly Yours"

Автор книги: Layne Layren

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“Bobby’s right,” Cole said. “You should come with us. We’re just going to grab a quick burger. Nothing fancy. Bobby’s got to get home for his big party.”

“Um, well, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be—”

“We’re sure,” Bobby interrupted, leaning forward and grabbing her hand. “Come on. I’m starving.”

Penelope let Bobby drag her forward but gave one last questioning glance at Cole to make sure it was really okay.

But he obviously hadn’t expected her to turn around just then, because his expression was as open and vulnerable as she’d ever seen it.

She just wished she knew what he was feeling.

Heck, for that matter…

She wouldn’t mind knowing what she was feeling.

Chapter 18

It was an odd thing, being jealous of one’s brother. Cole wasn’t used to it.

Protective? Yes.

Adoring? Definitely.

Amused? Always. Bobby was one of the funniest people he knew.

But jealous? It wasn’t really a part of their relationship. Until now.

Cole watched as Penelope and his brother walked ahead of him, hand in hand, bickering like an old married couple over whether the regular fries or the sweet potato fries had been better at the restaurant.

The sweet potato fries had been better by a long shot, but saying so would mean agreeing with Penelope, who hadn’t once glanced back at him on the long walk to the adult care home where Bobby lived.

And yet, despite the fact that the woman he was sleeping with was barely glancing his way, Cole was fucking loving every minute of this.

He couldn’t remember a day when he’d felt this whole. Ever.

He quickened his pace to catch up with them and Penelope gave him such a genuine, happy smile that he wanted to reach for her other hand.

Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

The sky still looked like rain, but so far it had held off, and the late afternoon was unseasonably warm, making for a pleasant walk from the subway station back to Bobby’s place on the Lower East Side.

A couple minutes later, they were in front of Bobby’s group home.

Cole usually hated this part. Hated the empty feeling after Bobby went happily back to whatever he and his friends had planned for the evening, leaving Cole feeling a little hollow.

But tonight was different. Tonight, when Bobby dashed up the steps and gave one last wave before disappearing, Cole wouldn’t be left standing alone.

“It was nice to meet you, Penelope,” Bobby said.

“You too.”

“And I’m really sorry about the popcorn.”

She waved this away. “Don’t think a thing about it.”

Bobby nodded and smiled. “I’ll see you again soon?”

Cole’s heart broke a little at the sweet ignorance behind Bobby’s question, and started to save Penelope from having to answer, but she beat him to it.

“I’d like that.”

Cole glanced down at her sharply, looking for the lie behind her words, but saw only Penelope’s usual genuineness.

Bobby grinned happily and hugged a surprised Penelope before turning to Cole.

Cole hugged his brother, feeling the usual combination of love and guilt that happened whenever they said goodbye.

“I’ll see you soon, okay, Bobbo?” he said quietly.

“I know,” Bobby said, thumping Cole’s back twice and pulling back. “But now I have to go to my party.”

Cole smiled and allowed his brother to pull away. Bobby’s face was conflicted. “You can come to the party if you want, Cole. They’ll let you.”

“Nah, you go,” Cole said. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Like hang out with Penelope?”

Cole glanced down at the tiny brunette by his side. Her face was tilted up so he could see beneath the bill of her hat, and she wiggled her eyebrows playfully. She was also completely unperturbed by the butter splatters on her shirt and jeans.

“Yeah,” he heard himself say to his brother. “I’m going to hang out with Penelope.”

He watched as his brother bounded up the steps, turning back as he opened the front door and giving one last happy wave before disappearing.

Penelope started to turn away, but Cole held up a finger for her to wait. A moment later, the door opened again, and a friendly-looking woman with short black hair stuck her head out and gave Cole a wave.

“The residents are supposed to check in and out whenever they come and go. Bobby always forgets this, but he hates it when I baby him by walking him all the way inside. Gloria always watches for him.”

She nodded in understanding. “How long has he lived here?”

“Since I was twenty-five. After college I tried to have him live with me, but it just…he got bored when I was at work. He hates being alone. I hated having to put him in a group home, but—”

“Are you kidding?” Penelope said as they began walking. “He clearly loves it.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Thanks for saying so.”

“This is so not my business, but are your parents in the picture?” she asked.

“They both died a few years ago,” he answered quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Honestly, even if they were around, I don’t know that things would be different. They loved Bobby, but they alternated between treating him like a burden and a child. He wouldn’t have been happy living with them, and the home he’s in now is expensive—”

“You pay for it? All on your own?”

He smiled. “You sound impressed now, but wait until you see that my apartment doesn’t have a wall separating the bedroom from the living room or the living room from the kitchen…”

“Cole, the fact that you sacrifice your own comfort for your brother’s makes you more attractive. Not less.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her around to face him. “Is that why you’ve got a crush on me?”

“Ah—” She tilted her head down, her hat hiding her face, and he pulled her closer.

“Pen.” He kept his voice light, teasing, but he was oddly eager to have her confirm that what she’d told his brother was true.

She tilted her face up to look at him. “You know you’re ridiculously charming.”

He grinned. “You sound grumpy about that.”

“Let’s just say I’m not exactly loving the fact that I seem to find myself on the verge of joining the Cole Sharpe fan club.”

“Resistance is futile,” he said. He started to dip down to kiss her, only to realize that kissing in baseball caps on a semicrowded sidewalk was logistically annoying.

He stood back up, his eyes locked on hers. “What day is it?”

“Sunday.”

Cole traced a finger along her cheekbone. “Which is the weekend.”

She smiled, and his finger dropped down to trace her mouth.

“It is,” she replied.

He swallowed, preparing to take a risk he hadn’t taken in a long, long time.

“My place is thirty minutes north of here.”

She hesitated, and his heart sank. She couldn’t have known, of course, that she was the first woman he’d invited back to his studio in years. Couldn’t have known how unusual it was that he wanted her to see it. To know all of him.

But it stung, all the same.

I don’t want a boyfriend.

Suddenly her emphatic and repeated statement was starting to feel a lot more like I don’t want you.

“The thing is, Cole…I’m pretty sure I smell like butter.”

He blinked down at her. “Butter?”

She glanced down. “It’s hard enough for me to feel sexy on a good day, but when I smell like a movie theater…”

Cole was torn between relief that she wasn’t rejecting him and the now familiar anger at her lack of self-esteem when it came to her appeal. But it didn’t feel right to bring that up—not here.

“I’ve got good news for you,” he said. Cole lifted her hand to his lips, and before he realized what he was doing, had pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“What’s that?” she asked warily.

“The good news, my dear, is that I happen to like the taste of popcorn, almost as much as I like the taste of you.”

Her breath hitched a little, and he knew he had her.

“Come over?”

Her wide dark eyes went hazy. “Okay.”

Cole gave in to temptation then. Forgot about the whole kissing-in-hats-is-awkward thing.

He tilted his head and kissed her, and then lingered. And tried very hard to ignore the sudden, forbidden thought that he wished every day could be exactly like this one.

Chapter 19

The morning-after walk of shame was a new thing for Penelope, but luckily, she didn’t have to do it alone.

Cole wouldn’t hear about her walking home on her own, and since she refused to consider a cab on what was looking to be a gorgeous early-summer Monday morning, he walked her back to her place.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this five A.M. wake-up call,” Cole grumbled as he held the door at Starbucks open for her.

She stepped out onto the sidewalk and took a sip of her latte. “You know exactly why we’re doing this. I need to get home in time to shower before work, and someone refused to let me go home last night.”

“Tiny, the day I willingly let a naked woman leave my apartment after a world-class blow job is the day you should just euthanize me.”

Penelope started to tell herself not to blush at the memory of last night, only to find…she didn’t feel like blushing at all. She felt…like doing it all over again. Many times.

Next weekend, she told herself. You can do it next weekend.

Although, truth be told, her oh-so-smart plan of only having sex on weekends was starting to feel a bit silly.

What would be so wrong with doing this on a regular basis? The baseball games, followed by chatty family dinners. Followed by sex and cuddling and talking long into the night.

Followed by Starbucks runs and…

Holding hands.

Cole casually reached for her hand as they started their trek across Central Park back toward her place. She glanced up at him and he winked.

She could fall for this man. She could so fall for him.

“You’ve got your thinking face on, Tiny.”

“You make that sound like it’s a rare occasion,” she said.

“Let’s just say I like your sexy face better. Or your sports-watching one, where you bite your lip when the score gets close. Or basically, any of your looks that aren’t going to end up with you telling me we can’t have sex again for five days.”

And that, right there, was the problem.

For Cole, this was all about sex.

Sure, he liked her. She didn’t doubt that. But when she broke their rule and fell in love with him, it would be a disaster.

If, she mentally corrected herself. If she did that.

“Cole—”

He sighed. “Don’t do it, Tiny. Let’s just walk quietly and enjoy the rarity of having Central Park all to ourselves.”

They didn’t have it quite all to themselves. There were a handful of runners. An elderly couple. But for the most part, it was deserted, and lovely, with nothing but the rising sun and the blossoming trees, and—

Julie Greene?

A slim blond woman decked out in aqua running gear came to a stop before them, slightly out of breath.

Yep. It was definitely Julie of the Stiletto crew.

“Cole? Penelope?”

Julie glanced between the two of them in confusion. Then she gave Penelope a subtle once-over, and her confusion turned into a slow, sly smile, no doubt making the assumption that the hugely oversize T-shirt Penelope was wearing was Cole’s.

An assumption that would be correct.

Julie’s husband rounded a corner, paused slightly when he spotted them, then came to stand beside Julie.

“Good of you to catch up, sweetie,” Julie said, reaching over and patting his ass.

Mitchell gave her a look before reaching out and shaking Cole’s hand in greeting.

“You lapped her, huh?” Cole asked, jerking his chin at Julie.

Mitchell gave a slight smile that softened his otherwise harsh features. “A gentleman never tells.”

He didn’t have to. The fact that Julie was red-faced and panting, while her husband looked like he could run to California without breaking a sweat said it all.

Julie waggled a finger between Cole and Penelope. “So Penelope’s mussed hair tells me what you guys were doing last night, but what the heck are you doing this morning?”

“Some people like to get up early,” Mitchell told his wife.

“Nobody likes getting up early, Mitchell,” Julie retorted. “Nobody with a soul.”

“I’m walking Penelope back to her place,” Cole said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for him to accompany her from his place to hers in the early-morning hours. “She refused to take a cab. Something about fresh air and sunshine, blah blah blah.”

Mitchell nodded at Penelope approvingly and Julie rolled her eyes.

Penelope finally managed to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Cole and I were just—we only sometimes—we—”

“Are having rather fantastic sex,” Cole completed for her.

“Cole!”

“What, like they didn’t know?” Cole said, pointing his coffee cup toward Julie and Mitchell.

Sure enough, Julie was grinning happily, and Mitchell gave her a little wink.

“It’s not serious,” Penelope heard herself say.

“Definitely not,” Cole said in agreement.

“Of course it isn’t,” Julie said soothingly. “Mitchell and I weren’t serious either.”

Then she not so subtly reached up with her left hand and scratched her nose, causing the diamond on her fourth finger to catch the light.

Cole narrowed his eyes slightly. “Well, Jules, I need to get Penelope home, so we’ll just leave you to your speed-walking, shall we?”

“I was running,” Julie said.

“Were you, babe?” Mitchell asked. “Were you really?”

Julie huffed and turned to Penelope. “Mitchell here is a running freak. I tag along sometimes, because he buys me a donut after.”

“I buy you a donut even when you don’t come running,” Mitchell said.

Julie patted her hip. “Which is exactly why I need to run some of the time. Calories burned, et cetera. Anyway, Penelope, we should grab lunch later. If you don’t have plans?”

“I’d like that,” Penelope said.

“Careful, Pen. She wants to interrogate you about how massive my dick is,” Cole said.

Penelope met Julie’s eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you free later today? Lots to talk about.”

Mitchell and Julie laughed, and Penelope glanced up to see Cole looking down at her. He wasn’t quite smiling, but his eyes were warm.

Which made her warm.

This whole thing was getting highly inconvenient.

Mitchell had his hand on Julie’s back, nudging her forward. “We’ll let you guys get going. Come on, Jules. Still have four miles to go.”

Julie’s mouth dropped open. “We do not. You promised we were only going to run five miles total.”

“We are,” Mitchell explained patiently. “You’ve only run one mile so far, so—”

“One mile! That’s all I’ve run? I married a monster!”

“See you later, Jules,” Cole called over his shoulder.

“If I’m even alive!” she called back. Then she sped up into a reluctant jog, cursing her husband in quiet, heartfelt oaths.

“I like her,” Penelope said, watching Mitchell and Julie run off.

Cole nodded. “Me too.”

“Do you think she’ll tell everyone else about, you know…us?”

“Oh definitely,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee as they resumed walking.

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“Why would I mind? We’re two healthy adults engaging in casual, consensual sex. I can’t think of a single reason why that should be a secret.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she muttered.

He looked down at her. “Isn’t it? What am I missing that makes it more complicated?”

Oh nothing. Just the itty-bitty, minor fact that I think I’m falling in love with you.

But she couldn’t. She’d promised.

Not just him, but herself. No more falling in love with men who don’t love you back.

She’d played fast and careless with her heart once, and the darn organ still felt like it had a hole in it.

Never again.

If she and Cole were going to do this, they stuck to the rules. Colleagues during the week, sex on the weekends if they felt like it.

And she definitely felt like it.

It would be enough. It had to.

But then he took her hand again and launched into a new idea he had for a spread on the top college football recruits, and Penelope decided to give herself the rest of the walk home to pretend that it could be like this every day.

It was the happiest ten minutes of her life.

Chapter 20

After rifling around in her purse without finding anything resembling a lipstick, Penelope dumped the contents on her desk.

Surely she had a lipstick in here. Any lipstick would do.

Of course, even if there were a lipstick tube mixed in with the tampons and pens and ever-growing assortment of tickets to various New York sports events, there was no guarantee that it wasn’t expired.

Did lipstick expire? It was stuff like this that Penelope had never thought to figure out. Most of the time she didn’t even think to put lipstick on, much less know where it was.

Cole Sharpe’s other women likely knew their way around lipstick. Take, for example, that gorgeous blonde with her tongue in Cole’s mouth whom she’d walked in on not so long ago…

Penelope pushed the thought aside. It was Monday. For today, and the next four days, Cole Sharpe was her colleague. He could kiss whomever he wanted.

And if that person wasn’t her, she’d splinter into a million pieces.

“No,” Penelope muttered to herself. “You are a strong, independent woman. You don’t need a man to complete you. You don’t need lipstick to be a better person.”

Which was a good thing. There was no lipstick anywhere in this mess of stuff. She’d just have to go to lunch with Julie Greene as she was.

At least she was wearing a dress today.

It was one of the few that she owned, but after her sleepover at Cole’s last night that involved, well, not much sleep, she’d been feeling feminine and pretty.

The light green sweater dress had called to her.

High heels, on the other hand, had not, but her comfy yellow flats worked with the dress. At least, she was pretty sure…

Penelope’s cell rang as she was in the process of putting everything back in her purse. She picked it up. “Hey, baby sister.”

Janie made a huffing noise on the other end. “Finally. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for over a week.”

Penelope felt a stab of guilt. “I know, I’m so sorry. Work’s been crazy, and Mom hogs all the phone time I do have. And Dad. Did you know he’s taking up fishing? Can we please veto that?”

“Working on it,” Janie said. “But why do I get the feeling you’re trying to change the subject? I’ve sort of been hoping there was a more interesting reason why you haven’t called me back. Maybe someone tall, dark, and handsome…”

Tall, blond, and handsome, actually.

The words didn’t come out. If she was going to tell anyone about the weird thing going on between her and Cole, it should Janie. But her sister would ask questions that Penelope didn’t know the answers to.

Or worse, questions she did know the answers to, but wasn’t ready to say out loud. Or in her head. Or at all.

“The new job has been crazy,” Penelope repeated instead.

Not a total lie. Even with Cole as co-editor, the fast-paced world of Oxford was more than enough to keep her busy.

“Tell me you love it,” Janie demanded. “It’s the only way I’m going to let you stay in New York instead of inciting you to get your tiny, cellulite-free butt back to Chicago where it belongs.”

“I do love it,” Penelope said, as she sat down in her chair. A quick glance at the clock told her she had a few minutes before she needed to head out to meet Julie for lunch. “New York’s…crazy. But good crazy.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Janie said. “But please, please tell me you booked your flight for Fourth of July. You know I’m no match for mom’s overindulgence with the red, white, and blue food coloring without you.”

“Yup, was going to do that today,” Penelope said, pulling a sticky pad to her and writing Book flight home.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing her family in July. She missed them like crazy. It was just…

Well, oddly enough, Chicago didn’t feel as much like home as she thought it would at this stage.

It was like New York had very slowly, very subtly sunk its teeth into her.

Her phone beeped, and Penelope sighed. “Okay, there’s no way Mom doesn’t have some sort of radar for when we’re talking on the phone.”

She pulled her phone away from her face to check caller ID and froze.

It wasn’t her mom. Or her dad.

It was Evan.

What to do?

Her brain was screaming at her to ignore it. To send him straight to voicemail.

Her heart, on the other hand…

“Janie, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you back this afternoon, I promise.”

Her sister was silent for a moment. “Sure, that’s fine, but…you okay?”

No. Not even close. Don’t let me do this.

“Yup, totally. Talk soon.”

She switched over to the other call before her sister could catch on to the fact that Penelope’s heartbeat was thumping in overdrive.

“Hello?”

“Now there’s a voice I haven’t heard in far too long,” said the gravelly voice on the other end of the line.

She’d always loved Evan Barstow’s voice. It was a shame his first passion was sportswriting, because he had an awesome radio voice.

“Hi, Evan.”

“How you doing, babe?”

She swallowed. He sounded so…casual. As though the last time they’d talked, she hadn’t been fighting back tears as he’d delivered a double whammy of I took your job, and Oh, by the way, that kiss you tried to plant on me was awkward because I’m seeing someone.

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m great.”

There, that was better. Less pathetic.

“How’s the New York freelance world treating you?”

“Actually, not doing that anymore. I took another job, with Oxford magazine.”

He paused. “The men’s magazine?”

“Yup.” The massive, household-name magazine, she silently added.

“Wow, that’s fucking awesome. Although they don’t have much in sports, if I remember correctly. A couple pages. You doing cologne reviews now or something?”

He laughed at his own joke, and her jaw clenched. Had he always been such a jerk? “Actually, they’ve recently decided to overhaul and expand their sports section, and brought me in to oversee the project.”

It was only a partial truth, since technically she shared the job, but she didn’t feel particularly bad about the semi-fib.

“How are things with you?” she asked.

“Good. They’re really good. Busy, which is actually why I’m calling, got a favor.”

Any hope that he might be calling to apologize went out the window. Of course he needed something.

She didn’t say anything, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Sportiva is looking to expand into New York, and they’re sending me out there to sort of do an initial scouting session. Knowing you, you probably did a ton of research about the New York sports scene before moving out there…”

Which you well know since you stole the last research I did.

“I was thinking I could take you out to dinner. Pick your brain a little.”

Penelope wanted to say no. Wanted to tell him to go to hell.

And yet, it felt…petty.

Plus, she wanted to prove—especially to herself—that she was over Evan Barstow, and the only way to do that…

“When are you coming out?” she asked reluctantly.

“Friday, actually.”

She blinked. “This Friday?”

“I know it’s last-minute, but figured, why wait, and…”

“Are you coming alone?”

There was a brief pause, and Penelope squeezed her eyes shut at what the question betrayed. “I mean, is Caleb or anyone coming with you or…”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “No, just me. Been getting used to my alone time now that I’m single again.”

Boom. There it was.

Evan Barstow was single. And coming to New York. And wanted to see her.

And…

She didn’t care.

Did she?

“Well, it’d be nice to see you,” she said. “Maybe we could grab dinner on Friday when you get in?”

“Absolutely,” he said. She didn’t think she was imagining the relief in his voice, and it warmed her a little to think that he might have been nervous about calling her.

“Look, I’ve got to get going. I have a lunch meeting, but text me your flight details, ’kay?”

“Absolutely, will do. And Penelope—”

She stilled.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered an awkward goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Penelope gathered her bag to go meet Julie in the lobby, when all of a sudden she skidded to a halt.

Evan was flying in Friday.

He’d be here all weekend.

Except weekend days were her and Cole’s time, which meant…

She didn’t know what any of it meant.

“Freaking great,” she muttered to herself. “Well done, Pope.”

How was it that she’d gone from a chronic state of no men to all of a sudden having two to contend with?

A minute later, Penelope was scanning the lobby for Julie, when inspiration struck.

Julie…She would definitely know what to do.

“Whoa,” Julie said, holding up a hand as Penelope came to a stop in front of her. “Can we talk about your scowl for a second?”

“Sorry,” Penelope said with a sheepish smile.

“Don’t apologize. Tell me everything,” Julie said, linking her arm with Penelope’s and pulling her toward the door. “I know that scowl. It’s about a man. And considering I saw you wearing Cole Sharpe’s T-shirt at five-thirty in the morning…”

“Um…”

“Hold that thought until we’re sitting down,” Julie said.

Penelope let Julie lead her to a nearby Italian restaurant, and true to her word, Julie waited until they were seated and sipping iced tea before she dove in.

“Mitchell gave me explicit orders not to bug you about this, but since I never listen to my husband, I’ve got to ask…what is going on with you and delicious Cole? Are you going to have his babies? Can I be godmother? Or at least come to the wedding?”

Penelope searched Julie’s face for any sign of incredulity. Any hint of disbelief that someone like Cole would be interested in someone like Penelope.

Instead she saw only girlish curiosity.

“Come on, Pen,” Julie said, reaching for a piece of bread. “I’m an old married woman. Give me something juicy to work with.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope said drily. “You forget that I’ve seen you and Mitchell together. The two of you set off fireworks every time you come into contact.”

Julie dunked her bread in olive oil before popping it into her mouth and chewing happily. “It’s a burden I must bear, being married to a gorgeous man I adore.”

Their server came by to take their order, and both women opted for the mushroom ravioli special with truffle butter sauce, because, as Julie pointed out, the only thing better than truffles was butter, and vice versa.

“Okay,” Penelope said, taking a deep breath when they were alone again. “You want to know what’s going on with me and Cole.”

“I do,” Julie said plainly. “But only if you want to share. If it’s private, just say the word and I’ll never breathe another word about it.”

Penelope appreciated that Julie was giving her an out, and was on the verge of taking the other woman up on it…but then she surprised herself. Because suddenly she did want to talk about it. Wanted to talk about how he made her laugh, and how great the sex was, and how sweet he was around his brother….

Julie’s smile was slow and happy. “You like him.”

Penelope sighed. “I’m pretty sure it’s impossible not to like him.”

Julie nodded sympathetically. “Cole’s always been one of those guys. I doubt he can even get on the subway without someone falling in love with him. Lincoln too.”

Penelope nodded, although, much as she liked Lincoln Mathis, gorgeous smile and all, she didn’t have a problem avoiding falling in love with him.

Cole, though…

“See, that’s sort of my problem,” Penelope said, fiddling with her napkin. “Everyone falls in love with Cole. I don’t doubt that. But, um, see, nobody ever falls in love with me.”

“Penelope!” Julie’s voice was half shocked, half chiding.

“I know, I know. Believe it or not, I do hear myself. I hear the pathetic, poor-me thing I have going on, and I’m not proud of it. It’s just—”

Penelope broke off and Julie reached across the table and gently touched the back of her hand. “Sweetie, does this have to do with that guy? That asshole who stole your job?”

Penelope groaned. “He’s coming to New York. And for the life of me, I don’t know if I’m supposed to avoid him, or play it cool, or get a makeover to show him what he’s missing, or if I should tell him off, or—”

Julie pursed her lips. “Okay. Okay, let’s work through this. How much time do we have?”

Penelope smiled at Julie’s use of we. The woman barely knew her, and already she was treating Penelope like an old friend.

“This weekend. He gets in Friday.”

Julie whistled, only it wasn’t a very good whistle and came out as an awkward breath. “That doesn’t give us much time for a plan.”

“Tell me about it,” Penelope said, gnawing at a piece of bread.

“Okay, well, let me ask this,” Julie said hesitantly. “Are you…over him? Truly.”

Penelope paused in her chewing. “I have no idea. No freaking idea. I know that I should be over him. I know that only a fool wouldn’t be. But…”

“But the heart is sometimes foolish,” Julie said. “I get it. I totally get it.”

“So…any ideas?” Penelope asked with a smile.

Julie was quiet for several moments, a speculative look on her face as she tapped her fingers on the table.

“Why, yes, actually. Just one idea, but it’s a very, very good one.”