Page 129 of The Bad Wedding Date

“Champagne, Charlotte?” Dad asked, far perkier than I remembered seeing him in years. It didn’t go unnoticed how he was using the name I preferred, too. Whatever had attacked Dad’s conscience, I couldn’t help being grateful for it.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Take a seat, Penn. I’ll get Charlotte’s drink.”

“Sure thing, Mitchell.”

Creep,I thought, somehow keeping that smile on my face when Penn took the couch opposite mine, in my direct line of sight. The smooth smirk he wore told me he thought he had the upper hand here. Whatever plan he’d put in place, he had no idea I knew about any of it. It felt good to know I held all the power while he remained as clueless as ever.

“You look good,” he said, nursing his own tumbler of whiskey that he’d no doubt accepted from Dad to impress him.

Even bigger creep.

“Thank you.”

“I was surprised when Mitchell called me to invite me here today. After our chat at your workplace, I didn’t think I would be on your invite list for anything for a while.”

I smiled, forcing my cheeks higher. “Dad told me how you’ve been worried about me lately, so I thought things through.”

“And how did that go?”

“Hmm.” I leaned forward to rest my arms on my knees, bringing my elbows into my side and forcing my boobs to push together beneath my T-shirt. Penn’s eyes immediately dropped to them before he managed to blink away whatever thought he had and looked up at me again. “I figured that a lot of years had passed since I last knew you. I’m not the same person I was then. Who am I to assume you would be to?”

“That sounds an awful lot like an apology, Lottie.”

End him,my brain taunted, only to be drowned out by visions of Fraser curled around me in bed, still asleep as the sun rose, lighting up his tanned skin and blond beard.

“What would I need to apologise for, exactly?”

“Thinking I didn’t have your best interests at heart.”

“Is that why you fucked half of London behind my back? For my best interests?” I cocked a brow and tilted my head.

“Not this again.” He laughed.

I smiled flatly. “Don’t worry. I’ve been overthatfor a long time.”

Penn’s face fell just as my father walked back into the room with my glass of champagne. I took it from him, and Dad sat to my left, on the sofa between Penn’s and mine.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said sweetly, “and thanks for setting this up for me today.”

“It’s nice to see you both in the same room again… and smiling at that. I told you Penn wasn’t the man you thought he was.”

I glanced at Penn to see him studying me as though he couldn’t quite work me out.

“I appreciate you looking out for me, Penn. I really do. Although, I am curious…” I took a sip of my drink before dropping it to a gold-rimmed coaster that sat on the cream marble coffee table. “What brought this on? What made you worried about me enough to track me down at work and then track my father down, too?”

“Track you down?” Dad asked, glancing between us both. “I thought you’d bumped into each other.”

“No,” I said, staring at Penn. “I was on shift at work when he came to see me. But don’t worry, Dad. I’m sure there wasn’t anything sinister behind it. Right, Penn?”

“Not at all.” Penn cleared his throat and shuffled to the edge of the sofa, holding his tumbler delicately in both hands as he looked between my father and me. “Emelia told me where Charlotte worked, and I happened to be passing through the area that night. It was only when I saw the sign for the care home that I found myself turning into the carpark. Call it instinct. I don’t know. After seeing Charlotte at the wedding with that… date of hers, something didn’t feel right.”

Dad scowled. “In what way?”

“Well, I don’t believe he’s a good man, sir.”

Sir? Ugh. This guy would need to be surgically removed from my father’s rectum at this rate.

---