Page 60 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
“Moira!” I shouted, and the woman was in the office so fast, I could only assume she had been standing right outside the door. I knew she and Penelope had gotten close over the months, so her concern was warranted. And I had been doing a lot of shouting in this office tonight, even for me.
“Yes, sir?”
“I need a flight to New York as soon as possible,” I barked, my usual gruff manner now even more pronounced.
Moira didn’t seem to mind, if the smile that split her face was any indication. “Yes, sir!”
“Wait,” Silas said, causing both Moira and I to turn to him. “Make it two.” Moira nodded and hurried away.
Silas looked at me, not speaking, but expressing more than words could ever say all the same. Silas was my best friend, we had stood with each other through everything, and I had fucked it up with my stubborn attitude. It was time I made amends, for real, not just the bullshit non-apology I gave him earlier.
“Silas, man, I…I’m sorry. I was such an asshole.” At that he snorted, some humor entering his gaze. “I know you’d never do wrong by Daphne. I know she’d never meet someone who would treat her better or with more respect than you would. I’ll keep my nose out of your business from now on. I promise.”
He stared at me for a bit, then shook his head. “Thanks for that, Stone, but I am afraid that ship has sailed.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I broke it off at Daphne at your request, she got pissed. She accused me of being a coward and not fighting for what I wanted, and she was right. Best friend or not, I shoulda knocked your ass out over her. But I didn’t, and she deserves better than that. She deserves a man who would fight for her. Like I should have.”
He was sad, I could hear it in his voice, but like me, his pride got in the way. I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, not saying anything, but conveying everything I could in that one gesture. When he smiled at me and punched me in the arm, I knew we were gonna be okay.
“Alright, jackass,” he said, shaking me off. “Enough of this emotional shit. At least one of us has to get the girl in this story, and it looks like it’s gonna be you. Let’s get our asses to New York.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Stone
“I just can’t believe she would do such a thing.” Harold paced in front of the fireplace, his face contorted in a frown. I scoffed and he looked up, meeting my eyes, then he sighed. “Alright. I can. I can totally believe it. But I just don’t understandwhy. I gave her anything she ever wanted.”
“You couldn’t give her this.” I was sitting in one of the wing-back chairs my father kept in his study, enjoying a bourbon and the fireplace as well. It may be the end of April, but it was definitely not warm in New York. “Not if you wanted to keep the company alive. Toddrick is an idiot. Having him as VP of Marketing would have been a disaster and the board would have had your head.”
Three days had passed since Penelope had resigned from Pennington Hotels, and Harold was still struggling to come to terms with Constance’s treachery. Hack had come through, delivering all the information we needed to nail Constance for a litany of cyber crimes, as well as a few real-world ones, like blackmail and sexual harassment, just to name a few.
The problem was, I wasn’t sure that was the best choice anymore. If we went public with her crimes, people would need to know details, and I wasn’t willing to put Penelope in a position to have to deal with all that public scrutiny. More often than not, it didn’t matter how innocent a woman was in a situation like this, people thought the worst of her, regardless. I didn’t want that for Penelope.
If there was a chance that Constance could be made to pay, without having to involve the police, and, by necessity, the press, that would be ideal.
And I really wanted her to pay.
I had been having fantasies of my father completely disinheriting her, forcing her and Toddrick out onto the street, and making her have to actually get a freaking job for once in her life. She wouldn’t be so stuck up if she had to put in a forty-hour week like the rest of the world.
I thought of Penelope’s parents, hardworking everyday people who, while they had admittedly struggled, had probably been happier than Constance had ever been a day in her life. My own mother, though she was often lonely and maybe even a bit sad, was still full of light and joy more often than not.
Then there was Penelope. Through hard work and dedication, she had earned a scholarship, a prestigious position, and, according to Harold, the VP promotion as well.
“Shit,” Harold cursed, slamming his fist on the mantle as he made another pass. I’d never seen him this agitated; kind of reminded me of my own temper. As I watched his face, scowl firmly in place, it occurred to me that I was more like Harold than I knew. Our mannerisms, our actions, even our facial expressions, all so similar. I hadn’t spent as much time around him growing up as he’d wanted, and that was on me, but even with our interactions being minimal, I’d turned out to be just like him in so many ways.
I guess blood really was thicker than water.
“How do you want to handle this?” I questioned, knowing that as CEO he had a lot riding on this situation and how it was handled. Harold turned to me, his face scrunched in concentration, and I noticed, really, for the first time how old my father was. How much time I had let slip by and all the opportunities we’d missed to be, well, a family. I set my glass down and stood, moving to him and waiting for him to decide the fate of Constance and Toddrick. Once I knew what he wanted to do, then I would go talk to Penelope. I would tell her that she was getting justice and her job back.
What she wanted to do about us would be another conversation all together. Because as far as I was concerned, there sure as shit was an ‘us’, and I wasn’t her giving up without a fight.
Finally, Harold seemed to come to a decision. “Give me a few days. Is your friend in California available for a little additional contract work? I think we will need his assistance.”
“I’m not sure he does the kind of work you’re looking for,” I replied. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what kind of work he did, but I knew it was likely not the same sort of stuff Harold was used to dealing with.
“You let me worry about that. Just get in touch with him and let him know I will make it worth his while. I will compensate him handsomely for both his speed and discretion.”
