Page 41 of Playboy Billionaire

“It’s not a criticism. I mean it. I love watching you. It’s like seeing a kid in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.”

“Gee thanks,” she said, feeling slightly awkward.

“You’re welcome.”

She took her first bite of the pastry and looked up to see both waiters carrying enough food to feed the entire film crew. French crepes, classic French merguez—which, Griffin pointed out, were essentially fancy sausage—quiche, cheese slices, bacon, yogurt and granola, French toast with three flavors of syrup.

The minute they left, she said, “Oh my God! In two days, I’ll be naked in front of a camera again. What are you trying to do to me?”

“We’ll walk it off.”

“Are we walking all the way back to North Carolina then?”

“Dig in.”

“Oh, I’m going to, you don’t have to worry about that.”

They both put their heads down and ate like it was their last meal.

* * *

Griffin glanced over at Penelope as they soared three thousand feet above the earth. She’d fallen asleep within minutes of them taking off. He’d wanted to get back home before nightfall, so they’d packed in as much as they could. After brunch they’d been too full to do much of anything, so they’d hit Tybee Island first and lazed around the beach for several hours before exploring Savannah. All in all, it had been an incredible day.

He brushed his fingers up and down her arm. “Wake up sleepy head, we’re here.”

She opened her eyes slowly and stretched her arms overhead, yawning. “I slept through the landing?”

“Yep, alcohol at brunch sets the tone for the day, laid back and easy,” he said.

“I’m sorry for this day to end,” she said wistfully.

He tweaked her nose. “We’ll do it again. Now I’ll deliver you back to your castle before you turn into a pumpkin.”

“Willy Wonka, Cinderella, you’ll make a great dad someday.”

His eyes flickered inscrutably before he reached for their bags and opened the plane exit door. The drive home was a quiet one, both deep into their own thoughts.

At the door he dropped off her bag and quickly departed. No hug…no kiss. Platonic, like she’d requested. Then why was she so disappointed? Archie raced to greet her, jumping up enthusiastically. She picked him up and cradled him in her arms as he licked her face. She sighed, “At least I have one guy that loves me unconditionally.”

She put him down and went to find Dolly. Thank God for friends.

19

Penelope’s hands shook as she stared at the words written in garish red marker, scrawled across her face on the magazine cover.Whore.Nice. And the superimposed penis sticking out of her mouth was so original. Truly the work of an artistic genius. Way to start a Monday morning.

Someone had slipped it under her dressing room door sometime between last Friday and today. It had been sealed in a plain manilla envelope with her name printed neatly on the front. She didn’t have to think too long or hard about who that someone could have been. Jack. Of course, he blamed her for getting fired; it was easier than looking at his own disgusting behavior.

She slipped her shirt off then stepped out of her jeans and underwear. She grabbed the satin and lace corset and pulled it on leaving the garter straps dangling, then slipped on the matching panty.

“Knock, knock,” Dolly said as she entered. She’d arrived to do her hair and makeup before the morning shoot.

Penelope grabbed the magazine and thrust it toward Dolly.

Dolly’s brows drew together. “Where did this come from?”

“I found it about ten minutes ago, when I walked into the room.”

“We have to find Stew. Can you text him?”

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