Page 9 of The Show

She nodded, looking slightly less uncomfortable than she had a minute ago. “Yeah. I decided it was time to branch out on my own. I’ve been developing it over the summer, and the website will launch next week.”

“Congratulations. Good for you.” I held the soft gaze of her pale blue eyes, wishing I could hold it for longer. I wonder if people felt like this when they looked at the Mona Lisa, or the Sistine Chapel, Monet’s Water Lilies, or Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.

“Thank you.”

“But you don’t have any clients?”

She rolled her eyes at my sister, who only looked amused. “No, I have clients. I have a couple that are coming with me from my old place, but Laurie thought you might need some help.”

I stared at her for a second then turned back to Lauren with a sigh. I was on the verge of sharing the burden I’d been weighed down with for three months when I heard the front door open again.

“Oh good, they’re here,” announced Lauren as Kit and Beulah waltzed into the kitchen.

My doorman was definitely getting fired now.

Kit and Beulah were the significant others of Murray and Rafe. While I’d been spending time with the boys here or at our club, I hadn’t seen either of them since my self-imposed exile – or since Kit yelled at me for being a spoiled brat after the incident in my grandfather’s office.

Truth be told, I was still feeling a little cool toward her.

I watched, slightly shell-shocked, as they all hugged each other, then took position on the island between Lauren and Lowe, leaning across the polished stainless steel, and smiling at me in a way that felt like an ambush.

“Penn was just about to offer Lowe a job,”

I scowled at Lauren. Thiswasan ambush, “No, I wasn’t.”

She was just about to retort when Kit stopped her. “Penn, we haven’t seen you for months. We’ve missed you. You haven’t been over to the apartment; Bell misses you. Barclay misses you.”

“I’ve seen them both every week!” I argued, before realizing it was pointless. I was in the exact situation I used to be when I was a kid, and I learned my lesson a long time ago; you will never win against four determined, strong women.

There were four of the most determined women I knew in my kitchen, staring me down.

“But not all of us together. You’ve been avoiding us,” she gestured to the girls, “and we want to help.”

“You can’t help with this,” I grumbled again.

Lauren leaned forward. “Try us.”

I scrubbed my hands through my hair, and scratched at my thick beard. Given I’d stopped shaving several weeks ago, I could easily pass as a lumberjack.

“Thanks to Gramps, I now own the worst team in baseball. I don’t even think he realizes what he’s done. Dad was a Yankees fan; I’m a Yankees fan. Everyone knows this. New York knows this. And now I’m going to be the laughing stock of the city by trying to make this team viable. It was okay for Maypole; people already thought he was a moron. How he managed to become so rich is beyond me. But I’m only thirty-one. My life is ruined.”

I dropped my head into my hands. At least I’d stopped crying tears of anger and frustration every time I thought about it, but that was only a recent development.

I didn’t look at Kit; her reaction to me was after I’d pretty much told her the same thing, but my feelings hadn’t changed, and there was much more to it than being a spoiled brat. Ask any sports fan if they would change allegiances, and you’d be met with a loud and resoundingFUCK, NO.

Non-sports fans, of which four were standing in front of me, would never understand, and I should have known better than to waste my breath trying.

Lauren’s mouth had dropped open. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic. No one will think that! This is a shrewd business move by one of the greatest businessmen of this, and last, century.”

I shook my head. “Dad wouldn’t have been happy with this. I’m cheating on him, his memory.”

“Dad would think it’s genius.”

I narrowed my eyes at her; she was starting to sound suspiciously like my grandfather. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him - or her - to have plotted this ambush out together.

“Who’ve you been talking to?”

“No one,” Lauren replied, but the fact she wouldn’t meet my eyes told me that was bullshit.

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