Page 33 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
But even after all that, she had overcome.
She worked hard, she persevered and came out the other side stronger.
And I gave her shit for it.
Pushing myself off the lounge chair, I made to follow Penelope into the house. I had to talk to her, to see if the kiss was as good for her as it had been for me, and if we could try to start over.
I had wanted her before she told me her story. True, that had been in a mostly physical way, because she was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. But knowing how much strength went with the fire in her eyes? I was addicted to her now.
Just as I reached the open door into the kitchen, my phone rang. I slipped it out of my pocket, prepared to send whoever it was to voice mail, but I hesitated when I saw it was Harold, who, as he liked to remind me, was both my father and my boss. I would have sent him, regardless, but having listened to Penelope’s story, I was feeling like an extra big heel at the moment. Perhaps I could give my father the benefit of the doubt, just this once.
Cursing, I drug my thumb over the screen and accepted the call.
“Yeah,” I growled. Hey, baby steps.
“Stone,” my father greeted me jovially. I looked at my watch, wondering why he was so chipper considering the time in New York. “How are you, son?”
“Fine,” I said cautiously, wondering what the deal was. I wandered to into the house, staring at the stairs and wanting nothing more than to end this conversation and go after Penelope. I was tired of watching her walk away.
“Good, good,” Harold replied. “Listen, I’m hoping we can catch up. I’d like to see the progress on the hotel, you know, walk around and really get a feel for the place.” I froze, not quite sure what to do with that information. “I feel like I should show my face around a bit, you know, for morale.”
“Sure thing,” I said vaguely, hoping to wrap the conversation up. “Let me know when you plan to be around and I’ll make arrangements.”
“Actually,” Harold hedged, dragging the word out awkwardly. “I’m in town, now, as it happens.”
I froze. “You are? Where are you?”
I was given my answer when the doorbell rang. Moving robotically, I walked from the stairs to the front door, opening it slowly.
There on the front step, was Harold Pennington.
“Stone!” Harold threw his arms wide, his brittle smile telling me he wasn’t sure if this was going to be a good surprise or not. “Good to see you, son.”
“Harold.” It was all I could think to say, and I could tell it was the wrong thing when his face fell a bit. But he recovered quickly,
“Sorry for the late arrival, but we thought it would be good to surprise you.”
“We?” I questioned as he bustled past me into the foyer. My brain was struggling to keep up. “Who is we?”
But I had barely finished the question when my half-sister Constance strode through the door after him, her nose in the air as she looked at me with disdain.
“Yes,” Harold said, oblivious to the tension in the room. “Connie and I thought we would take the weekend, come out and see you, check out the progress. A little family reunion, if you will. I know Daphne is here right now. It will be lovely. You’ll see.”
“Yes,” Constance blurted, crossing her arms over her narrow chest. Everything about her was narrow, including her mind. “Toddrick would have come as well, but he’s so very busy. The Atlantic City project is going so well, but they couldn’t possibly have spared him for the weekend. He’s vital to the project’s success.” She looked at Harold, waiting for him to validate all her claims, but Harold merely blinked at her, smiling banally. I’m sure Toddrick was vital, alright. Vital to keeping his dealer’s pockets flushed with cash.
The awkward silence dragged on until another person appeared at the front door; a man in a suit, carrying the luggage.
“Oh, Frederick,” Harold said, rushing over to the man, who I now knew was Frederick. “Thank you, my man. Just inside here will do nicely.” He gestured to the side of the foyer, and Frederick placed the bags there.
“If there is nothing further, sir.”
“No, thank you, Frederick. I’m sure Stone won’t mind driving me around tomorrow,” Harold gushed, slapping me on the back. “You enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you here Sunday afternoon.”
“Very good, sir.”
When the door closed behind him, the three of us were left once again standing staring at each other, not sure what to say. I was about to suggest that we all just go to bed when a noise from the top of the stairs caused us all to turn.
There was Penelope, her hair wet from what I assumed was a shower, wearing some sort of silky shorts and tank top set that was probably her pajamas. I should have warned her that we had company, but the sight of her long, toned legs sticking out of those lavender shorts caused all the blood in my body to head south and I couldn’t make my mouth work.
