Page 63 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
I looked at her sadly, stunned at the fact that she had such hatred for me simply because my father had loved my mother before he had met hers. Constance never could handle sharing anything, even her father’s love.
“Yes, I am, Constance,” I said, loud enough for Harold to hear me as well. “I absolutely am a Pennington. I always have been. Even when I was trying not to be.”
As the security guard grabbed her again, she continued to shriek the whole way out of the room. “I’ll make you pay for this, Stone! You and your little blonde whore!”
When they were gone and the room was quiet, I turned to Harold. The sadness in his eyes cut me deeply. I had never wanted to come between him and his daughters, but Constance made her own choices, and Harold had no option but to do what he had done for the sake of the entire company.
“I don't know what I could have done differently with her,” he said quietly, shaking his head.
“You helped her as best you could, Dad,” I replied, watching as the board of directors made their way out of the room, now that the drama was over and the future of their company was headed in a direction they were comfortable with. “She didn’t exactly give you much choice.”
“I know, son. I know.” He was quiet for a few moments, turning to look out over the city, and I let him stew. Sometimes, quiet was the best thing for a person. Standing beside him and just taking in the view, I tried to come to terms with my own recent choices.
Finally, Harold blew out a big breath and shook his head, turning to me. “Well, now that that’s settled, what are your plans?”
I smiled grimly. “Give a guy a chance to get his head around it first, yeah? Shit,” I placed my hands on my hips. “I can’t believe I’m moving to New York. Silas is gonna bust my ass over this.”
“Oh, son. I wasn’t talking about that. We’ll deal with company stuff later. I have a plan for your transition I think you may be quite pleased with.” He winked conspiratorially at me, his eyes sparking with glee. I didn’t know if I should be excited or nervous about what he was thinking. “I was asking what you are plans for Miss Lund? It’s not a happy ending unless the hero gets the girl.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m anyone’s hero, Dad.”
“Nonsense, son. Everyone is someone’s hero. The trick is to find the one that thinks so. Now, do you have any ideas on how to woo your lady?”
“Actually,” I said cautiously. “I do have one, but I might need some help.”
“If it’s something I can make happen for you, son, you can consider it done.”
I had been giving this a lot of thought. I hadn’t wanted to go see Penelope until this was settled, until I could promise her that Constance wouldn’t be able to hurt her. I could do that now, and my heart rate picked up at the prospect of seeing Penelope again. “Well, Dad, I don’t suppose you have any friends in the NYPD do you.”
To that, my father burst out laughing. “Oh, Stone. I like your style.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Penelope
A week had gone by. An entire week and I hadn’t heard from Stone.
Not that I blamed him. After all, I had left out of the blue, with zero explanation. And I hadn’t exactly tried to call him either.
The truth was, I was afraid. I was afraid that the reason he hadn’t reached out to me was because he didn’t want to.
Didn’t want me.
When I left that restaurant, I was so angry. Angry that he’d just decided my life for me. Angry that he’d just assumed that I’d follow him wherever he wanted to go, with no questions, like some docile little sheep.
I felt that I had to take a stand. So I had.
I just hadn’t expected it to be this permanent. I had fully intended to talk to him, to discuss the possibilities for us. If he wanted there to be an us, I was ready to sacrifice to be with him. But I wanted to be asked, not told. I wanted my opinions and feelings on the matter to be considered.
And then disaster struck.
When I opened that email, my whole life changed. Seeing myself like that, seeing a beautiful and passionate moment, aprivatemoment, turned into something that looked dirty and degrading, it broke me a little.
But getting on the plane knowing that my time in Las Vegas, my career with Pennington Hotels, and my relationship with Stone were all over?
That broke me a lot.
I had spent the last week moping and feeling sorry for myself.
