by Hart, Taylor
“Morning, sunshine! I’m at your door with fresh orange juice and bagels.”
“Oh, Papa, I’m not even out of bed yet.”
“Which is why I’m here with breakfast. Now come open the door for an old man.”
“I’ll be right there,” Penny said, pulling herself out of bed. Ugh. She was a disgusting mess. Wrinkled clothes from the day before and hair sticking up every which way. She tried to smooth the worst of the tangles before she opened the door to greet her papa.
He tsked at her appearance, brushing past her to the kitchen. “I’ve seen drunken sailors in a better state than you, my dear. Why don’t you go take a quick shower, then join me for breakfast?”
She scrunched her eyebrows together, confused. First he got her out of bed for breakfast, but now he wanted her to take a shower first? What in the world?
“Papa, is everything okay?”
“Of course. I just don’t want to share breakfast with your dirty laundry. Off you go. Be quick!”
With that, he sat down on the couch, took out his favorite newspaper, and opened it up to the business section. Penny shook her head a bit, confused by his odd behavior, but decided a shower wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I’ll be right back.”
After taking a quick shower and donning clean clothes, Penny returned to greet her papa. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Let’s have breakfast on the veranda, Papa. It will be nice to have some fresh air, and my hair will dry faster that way too.”
The sunshine and salty air helped soothe her dampened spirits. It was just her and Papa, sitting in comfortable chairs at the patio table. She was spreading cream cheese on her chocolate-chip bagel and giving him an update on the previous day’s events in the Bahamas when he interrupted her.
“Never mind all that. What are you doing about this boy?”
“The boys who caused the accident?”
“No, the boy you’ve been dating. Your Mimi said she thought he was playing you. Was he?”
“Oh, Papa. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He thumped his newspaper down, making Penny jump in her seat. “Well, I do. Your grandmother gave you a dare, a bet if you will, to get out and socialize, especially with a man. That’s what led to this on your side, isn’t it?”
Penny was at a loss for words. Papa was usually the calm one of her two grandparents. What had him riled up?
“Well, wasn’t it?” he pressed.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“You suppose? You’re telling me that without your grandmother’s bet, you would have gone out to the pool to relax and would have accepted the young man’s invitation.”
She sighed. “You know I would have been in the office, doing whatever needed done instead. There. Satisfied?”
He grunted. “Not yet. You said yes because of a bet with your grandmother. Oh, don’t try to make it sound pretty,” he said when she tried to interject. “You want that seat on the board, and your grandmother dangled it in front of you with a little incentive to start dating.”
She sat back in her chair, chastised. “And your point is?”
“Why are you punishing that boy for doing something similar?”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand, Papa.”
“Try me.”
“It’s just—” She cut off, averting her eyes to look out at the ocean waves crashing against the shore. Wishing she could blame her watery eyes on the bright sunlight rather than the swell of regret weighing her down.
“He hurt your feelings,” he said kindly.
Penny nodded, swiping at the tear that fell onto her cheek.
“Mac’s hurting too.”
That caught her attention. “How would you know how he’s feeling?” Her eyes widened. “Papa, what did you do?”
Her grandfather waved his hand through the air, as if the revelation that he knew Mac was of little consequence. “Nothing more than served the man a few drinks.”
“You got him drunk?”
“Of course not. I simply took a shift at the pool bar, and your young man happened to be there with his friends. I’m still questioning his choice of friends, mind you. Only one of them seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders. The other three were quite disagreeable.”
“Don’t try to get in the middle of this, Papa. It was only a few days. It’s no big deal.”
“Then why are you both moping around this morning like the world has ended?”
“Mac has a life to get back to in Crystal Creek. I have a life to take care of here.”
“Or do you two have lives that need to be melded together? Now listen to your papa for a few more minutes, okay?” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I want you to be happy, my Penny girl. What I see from you and Mac is that being together made you both happy. Yes, there were some misunderstandings from both sides, but despite that, you genuinely like each other, dare I say as more than friends.”
He patted her hand as she felt warmth flood her cheeks. “Do you remember when we talked about love?” Penny nodded her head. “Your Mimi said that it takes time, but I also mentioned that you simply know when you’ve met the right one, and you need to trust your instincts. My question is, are your instincts telling you that this was a vacation fling? If so, then let’s set this aside and move on with no Mac in your future.”
The thought of no Mac in her future left a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach.
“Or,” Papa continued, “are your instincts asking what if? What if you had more time? What if you could set aside the misunderstandings and focus on the realness of your friendship, your relationship? If your instincts are asking these questions and wondering if there could be more to discover with this boy, well, then, what are you going to do to give you both that opportunity? Only you can make that choice, my Penny girl.”
Her eyelids fluttered, and she rubbed her hands across them, wiping away the moisture while her heart thudded against her chest. “Papa, I can’t—”
“You can do anything your heart tells you is right,” he interjected.
She stood on wobbly legs. “I need to go.” She glanced at her watch. It was already after ten.
“He left thirty minutes ago for the airport. I had your car brought over for you.”
She rushed around the table, dropped a kiss on her papa’s cheek, then grabbed her purse and ran for the car.
Penny slid into the driver’s seat and took off for the airport. It was difficult to get through the slow lights and lower speed limits of town, but once she was on the freeway, she pushed past the speed limit as much as she dared. She should be able to get there in time. Enough time to get him to leave his gate, to talk to her, to see if they could come to any kind of conclusion about this entire beautiful, crazy mess.
A siren bleeped, and lights flashed in her rearview mirror.
No.
No, no, no!
She slowed and pulled to the side. Dang it.
She went through the entire process of showing her license, explaining she was trying to get to a flight, and accepting a ticket for being thirteen miles per hour over the posted limit.
Her heart pounded the rest of the way to the airport. Could she possibly make it in time? Even for a brief conversation?
She pulled her car over to the valet curb, grabbed her phone, and dialed Mac’s number. She passed off her keys and info to the valet as the phone connected, then rang once. Twice. Three times.
Voicemail.
She hung up and tried again as she entered the airport lobby.
“Hello.” Mac’s hesitant voice came over the line.
“Mac, it’s Penny,” she said, out of breath but relieved he had answered.
“I know. I saw the caller ID.”
“Are you on the plane?” she asked, knowing that at any minute, their call could be cut off by a flight attendant.
“We’re getting ready to board. I only have a few minutes.”
“I’m here. At the airport.
I got my first speeding ticket on the way. And I just, I wanted to see you.”
“Penny, I need to get on the flight. Why don’t you tell me why you called?”
She sucked in a deep breath, then let it all out in a whoosh. “Don’t leave hating me,” she said.
“Why would that matter?” he asked.
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
A heavy sigh came through the ear piece. “Penny—” he started, but the line crackled, so she continued.
“I know that’s crazy to say, but that’s how I feel. And if you leave hating me, then we’ll never be able to talk things through. To see if we can be something more.” She took in another deep breath, listening for Mac, but only hearing static. “Mac?” she asked.
She pulled the phone from her ear and saw that the call had disconnected. She scanned the escalators leading down from the gate area. No Mac.
She waited. Hoping.
A few minutes later, someone announced that the Kansas City flight had departed, and they were now boarding passengers for the next flight to Orlando. All she could do was grip her phone and stare at the blank screen.
He was gone.
It was over.
“Hey.”
Penny whirled around. He was there. Right in front of her. Jeans, a navy polo shirt, and mussed hair she wanted to sink her fingers into.
He hadn’t left.
“How did you? I was watching the escalators—” she stammered.
He motioned to the double doors to the left. “Celebrity tunnel,” he said. “Did you mean it?”
She licked her suddenly drip lips. “That I think I’m falling for you?”
He nodded.
“I did.”
He tangled his fingers with hers. “Good, because I’m already there.”
Her eyes went wide as she realized he was telling her he loved her. Swirls of wonder filled her, bubbling tingles overflowing with joy. He rested his forehead on hers.
“Penny, I’m very sorry,” he murmured, bringing their clasped hands up to rest on his chest. The beat of his heart was strong, like hers. “Can we please start fresh?”
“I would like that oh so much,” she whispered, loving the faint dimple that appeared when he smiled. Then he dipped his head, his lips capturing hers in a tender kiss: a caress full of hope, happiness, and promise.
THE END
Read the next romance by Danyelle Ferguson!
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Danyelle Ferguson grew up surrounded by Pennsylvania's beautiful Allegheny Mountains, but is currently experiencing mountain-withdrawal in Kansas. She enjoys reading, writing, dancing and singing in the kitchen, and the occasional long bubble bath to relax from the everyday stress of being "Mommy."
She can be contacted at [email protected]
Website: www.DanyelleFerguson.com
Blog: www.QueenOfTheClan.com
Keighley Ainsworth didn’t usually splurge on a taxi, but she wasn’t about to show up to a meeting with Sterling Westcott smelling like the subway. He was a bachelor billionaire, a philanthropist, and probably the most intriguing guy she’d ever met. As an event planner, she interacted with a lot of people, so her reference pool wasn’t exactly shallow. Sterling was a step above… well, everyone.
She pulled out her phone, flipping the camera to selfie, and did a quick check. Nothing in her teeth. Makeup flattering without looking like she was trying too hard. She was having a good hair day, which was lucky. She wasn’t making a first impression, but she still wanted it to be a good one.
The taxi dropped her on Pearl Street. Traffic in the Financial District at the lunch hour was impressive, even for New York. Sterling’s offices weren’t far; he had likely walked. Keighley stepped inside the restaurant where he’d asked her to meet him, a Greek spot he’d mentioned before as a favorite.
She’d learned over the couple of years she’d been in New York how to act like a New Yorker. Every bit of nervousness and feeling like she didn’t fit in this swanky restaurant got tucked away, hidden behind a mask and posture of confidence. She faked it.
“I’m meeting Sterling Westcott,” she told the hostess.
The expected disbelief rushed over her face for just a moment, but it was tucked away quickly. She turned back and looked at the tables behind her in the busy dining room. Keighley followed her gaze.
Halfway back, Sterling rose. She heard the hostess’s breath catch in exactly the moment her own did. He was always handsome, but that blue suit fit him like it was made for him.
Keighley inwardly rolled her eyes. Of course the suit was made for him. Billionaires didn’t buy off the rack at Walmart.
He smiled at her and waved her over. Keighley did her best not to smirk as she crossed past the hostess and the other diners, every single one of whom took notice of Sterling’s presence and her approach. She might’ve been an Arizona transplant barely getting by in a tiny flat in the Bronx, but Sterling Westcott was there waiting for her.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, holding her chair out for her.
She sat. “You’ve talked about this place so much, I’m excited to finally try it.”
He took his seat, across from her. “You’ve only come for the food?”
Keighley smiled. “Of course not.”
That brought his smile back in full force, a lethal weapon really. It worked its magic on her, on their server, on a lot of the diners. Keighley had a little more practice at functioning under the influence of Sterling’s company. Some of that practice had come that morning in front of her mirror.
Once their lunch had been ordered, she pulled out a conversation starter that had worked pretty well with imaginary Sterling while she was putting on her makeup. “The Times ran a piece about the cancer benefit last week. Very positive.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said, flashing another of his billion-dollar smiles. “The event was a tremendous success, due mostly to you.”
She hoped her blush wasn’t too obvious. The fundraising dinner was the biggest event she’d ever been in charge of. She’d worked herself to the bone, but happily. Teaming with Sterling on behalf of such a worthy cause had been amazing. He’d complimented her work but also her. He’d been involved in the planning, wanted to know the details, and had been genuinely happy at the success of the night. He cared about the cause they’d been promoting. She liked that.
“My company is looking to expand business in the European tech market,” he said. “But we don’t have a presence in Dublin.”
“Dublin?” He had her full attention. She used to dream of going to Ireland when she was a little girl. Any mention of that country or its capital still got her heart jumping around a little.
Sterling nodded. “That city is the heart of European tech. All the major companies are headquartered there.”
“I didn’t know that.”
He tore off a bit of pita—the appetizer he’d chosen—talking between bites. “Anyone wanting to tap tech in Europe needs connections in Dublin.” He leaned a bit toward her, lowering his voice in the way he did sometimes. It made her feel like only the two of them were around, even though that had never been the case when they were together. “I am hoping to build those connections, and I think hosting an impressive event after a couple of weeks of meetings would do the trick.”
An event. She held her breath.
“Could you clear a week or so off your schedule the beginning of next month?” he asked.
She tried to keep her voice steady. “I might have trouble planning an event that’s taking place on a whole different continent than I’m on.”
He flashed a dazzling smile, leaning back once more. “You would be planning it while in Dublin.”
In Dublin. Dublin! Somehow she kept her cool. “I could probably clear my schedule.”
“Perfect.” He paused while their server set their meals on the table. “I’ll have my travel assistant contact you to work out the
details. I’m hoping we can undertake this sooner rather than later.”
Dublin! “Sounds perfect.” She took a calm bite of tsipoura. “May I ask why you’ve asked me to plan this? You could probably hire an event planner in Dublin.”
It was a stupid thing to ask, considering she was being given the chance of a lifetime. If he hadn’t thought of using someone local, he’d think of it now.
That smile. She almost melted.
“I’ve seen your work, Keighley. I know you will put on a top-notch event. I also know we work well together.” He took a sip of wine. “It would be a gamble with any other planner. I can’t risk this not going well.”
“You trust me then?” Again she called on the New York vibe she’d learned to fake the last two years and asked the question with amusement.
“Obviously.”
He spoke with a twinkle of appreciation in his eye and a shimmering smile pulling at his lips, giving it extra meaning. The memory of it kept her heart spinning all through the remainder of the meal as he explained his ideas, what the event was meant to accomplish, and a few of the companies whose heads he would be inviting. There was something personal in the interaction, something more than just business.
Sterling Westcott was inviting her to join him in the city of her dreams and be part of his efforts there. The two of them. In Ireland.
It was the chance of a lifetime.
Keighley had never flown overseas before and had never even set foot in the first-class cabin of a plane. She’d now done both. Sterling could just as well have sent her economy. Flying over the Atlantic, lying down in a seat that converted into a bed, she’d thought again and again what a personal touch it was, and how thoughtful. He was spoiling her. She had worked with other wealthy clients, and none were as thoughtful as he was.
A uniformed chauffeur had met her at Dublin Airport, driving her in a luxury Mercedes-Benz toward the heart of the city. He hadn’t talked much, but his few words rang with that gorgeous Irish accent she’d fallen in love with from watching movies. Was this actually real?
