Imperfect Penelope (Wild Crush)

by Sami Lee

  Unfortunately, Greg could.

  “He said if he stayed with me any longer I was going to drain him until there was nothing left. I don’t even know what that means! The men I meet are all the same. They’re all like your father. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Her voice quavered. “He was going to take me to the Cancer fundraiser.”

  “Couldn’t you go by yourself?”

  “Alone?” Her incredulous tone was so shrill Greg pulled the phone away from his ear. “I can’t turn up to an event like that unescorted. Lionel will be there with Brooke.”

  It had been seventeen years since Lionel Danvers had left Zoe for the woman he’d since gone on to marry, Brooke Lowell. His mother still couldn’t say the other woman’s name without placing a derisive emphasis on it. Greg rubbed his temple with his index finger and prayed for patience. “Mum, don’t you think it’s about time you moved on? You need to let what happened with Dad go once and for all.”

  “A woman doesn’t easily forget watching the man she gave up her youth for, the father of her children, walking out the door and straight into the arms of some twenty-two-year-old.”

  Brooke had been closer to thirty-five when she’d had an affair with Greg’s father, but Greg didn’t bother to point it out. Brooke’s age wasn’t the problem. Her very existence was.

  “Anyway I don’t see you letting things go.” Zoe’s tone turned accusatory. “You’re still hiding up there in the middle of nowhere because you’re afraid to face Rochelle.”

  The mention of his ex-fiancée’s name made Greg’s blood chill. “I’m not hiding,” he said carefully. “I’m starting over.”

  “Starting over.” His mother scoffed. “You had everything here. You had a successful career and people respected you. You weren’t the one who called off the wedding in front of hundreds of guests. It’s Rochelle who should be running and hiding, and instead she’s being squired around town by Maxwell Rogers as if she doesn’t have a guilty bone in her body.”

  Greg’s heart slammed to a stop. Maxwell Rogers was an old colleague of Greg’s, someone his mother would have called a bounder. Greg remembered the way Max used to share the details of the women he’d seduced, whether you wanted to hear them or not. He’d laugh about it, as though he’d gotten away with something by sharing their beds.

  Rochelle was dating him? Max would chew her up and spit her out.

  Which was not his problem, Greg reminded himself. She was the one who’d ended things. Hell, she’d jilted him at the altar. Apparently so she could date cads like Max Rogers. If that was her choice, it wasn’t his problem.

  And neither was the end of his mother’s relationship.

  “Listen, Mum, I have a client here,” Greg fibbed. “Can we talk another time?”

  “No, wait. I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have told you that. It just slipped out. I don’t know why.”

  Greg suspected he did know, but he couldn’t accuse his mother of stirring up drama for no better reason than she was addicted to it. Whatever her faults, this was the woman who’d given birth to him and who’d cried with pride when he’d graduated from law school. And in between she’d always insisted on thoroughly vetting his nannies.

  Filled with the familiar mix of annoyance and resignation, Greg sighed. “It’s all right. What Rochelle does is irrelevant to me.”

  “If that’s true, why don’t you come back?” Zoe said, suddenly animated. “I ran into Edward last week, and he said you could have your old job at the firm anytime. I think they miss you there. You were their star lawyer, after all. You would have been partner by now if you’d stayed.”

  Greg held in a sharp retort, flicking his gaze over his office. No, it wasn’t as luxurious as the one he’d had at Wellington and Farraday, but it was clean and functional. The view couldn’t rival the one he’d once had of the Sydney skyline and the harbor bridge beyond it, but Leyton’s Headland had its own charms. Like the friendly smiles of the locals. Like Shelley Beach at sunrise.

  An image of Penny raising her arms to the sky, the pale orange sunlight filtering through her spread fingers, popped into his mind. “I told you before, I’ve set up my own business here. I’m staying.”

  His own business. His. For the first time Greg realized how much he liked the sound of that. He had something of his own, in a place that was free of the family dramas that always seemed to be playing out in Sydney. He didn’t leave to run away from the humiliation of his trashed wedding—at least that wasn’t the whole reason. He left in order to find out who he was and what he wanted.

  He wanted this. His own life. Free of the ever-present sense that he had to compete with his Supreme-Court-judge father, free of his mother’s expectations and her neediness. He wanted to just be…free.

  “Oh you’re as bad as your brother,” Zoe said scathingly, bringing Greg back—unfortunately—to the conversation at hand. “You’ve both abandoned me. I can’t get Bryan to answer any of my calls either. I have no idea why he wanted to move all the way up to Queensland just to buy an ice-cream truck. He could do that here if he wanted.”

  “It’s a lawn-mowing business, Mum.”

  “That’s even worse. I can’t believe I lent him money for something so common.”

  Greg froze. “You lent him money? When?”

  “I transferred it three weeks ago. He called me, desperate to solve some cash-flow problem. What could I do? Mind you, there’s been not a call since. How did I raise two such ungrateful sons?”

  Greg ignored his mother’s plaintive question. His pulse started to pound. “How much did you give him?”

  “I think it was four thousand dollars. Why?”

  Six weeks ago Greg had written Bryan a check for three and a half thousand. It was a business loan Greg had given because Bryan had been distraught at being tricked by Penny. Knowing all too well how a woman could throw a man for a loop, Greg had felt for him. He couldn’t deny his brother the chance to start over, to make something of himself. Like he had.

  Only now Greg had a horrible feeling he’d been duped. By his own brother.

  And what about Penny? She’d told him Bryan had stolen from her, but he’d refused to listen. Dear God. What was Bryan doing with all the money?

  “Mum, I have to go.” For good measure he tacked on, “I’m sorry about Richard.”

  He pressed the end button on his phone, his mother’s disgruntled sigh the last thing he heard. He checked his calendar on the computer, confirming he had four more appointments this afternoon. He wasn’t going to cancel, especially not without Charlotte here to make her smooth excuses for him. He was going to have to wait until after five o’clock.

  After that, he was going to pay his brother a visit.

  Chapter Five

  Penny woke to the sound of rain landing on her tin roof. It was a noise she usually enjoyed, but this morning it made her frown. She still owed Greg two sessions of yoga, and it was going to be even less fun in the rain. But seeing as she’d never taken his phone number, or he hers, she saw no other way to cancel but to drive to Shelley Beach and tell him to his face. Perhaps he wouldn’t even show up, but she couldn’t take the risk. She couldn’t bear to think of how self-righteous he’d be if she stood him up.

  She climbed out of bed and used the bathroom before heading to the kitchen. Before she could even say good morning to the cats, there was a knock on her door.

  Trevor meowed a protest, somehow guessing that an unexpected visitor was bound to delay the delivery of food. Penny bent down to pat him on the way to the door. He totally snubbed her by turning tail and showing her his butt.

  “Nice, Trevor,” she muttered. “You’d think a rescue cat would be more grateful.”

  She went to the door and opened it. She froze in shock when she saw who was standing there. It was Greg, appearing uncharacteristically rumpled in jeans and a white T-shirt t
hat looked like it had been slept in. He hadn’t shaved either, and the dark shadow of beard on his chin made him seem different. Masculine and sort of dangerous. More like her fantasy Henry Cavill than she wanted him to appear.

  Penny tamped down the unwelcome reaction. “What are you doing here?”

  “I called Summer to find out where you live. Ty wasn’t very happy with me for waking them. I had to do some groveling.” He glanced out at the rain. “But I wanted to make sure you didn’t ride to the beach in this.”

  “I got my car back from the mechanic’s.” Eight hundred and forty-nine dollars later, but she had wheels. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I need to talk to you.” Penny stood where she was, her hand on the door because she was considering shutting it in his face. Then he did the most surprising thing. He visibly swallowed, and his shoulders slumped a little as he said, “Please, Penny.”

  Penny had no idea if she was more surprised by the plea or the fact he’d called her Penny, but she was so shocked she stood back, a silent invitation for him to enter. He stepped over the threshold, his boots clunking on the hardwood floors. “Should I take these off?”

  “Leave them on.”

  He wouldn’t be here long enough for her to worry about him marking her floors. Besides, it wasn’t like her place was a grand palace. Penny followed him down the short hall and into the combined living and kitchen area. She saw him looking around at her cottage speculatively and wondered what he thought of the mismatched furniture and the cheap prints of beach scenes she’d hung on the walls. She lived in one of the few streets in Leyton’s that hadn’t been redeveloped. Her house was rented, old and small, but she’d filled it with plants and cats and character. It was hers and she loved it.

  She doubted Greg lived in a place like this. He probably had one of the mini-mansions that lined Beach Road. Was he that rich? Penny wasn’t sure, but she could only picture him in a big house surrounded by tasteful things and emptiness. It made her feel sad for him, which made her angry at herself.

  “What can I do for you, Greg?”

  He didn’t answer her question, remarking instead with an ironic turn, “You don’t have expensive tastes.”

  Penny’s hackles rose. “Is that some crack at my furniture?”

  He turned around, his expression perplexed. “No, I—”

  Mr. Rumplepants chose that moment to dart towards Greg and head-butt his leg, which was his way of introducing himself to strangers. Greg looked down in confusion.

  “Rumplebutt, don’t be rude,” Penny scolded. The cat meowed in response, wound himself around Greg’s legs once in a figure eight before darting off as quickly as he appeared.

  Greg looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Rumplebutt?”

  “It’s Mr. Rumplepants, actually. Don’t blame me, someone named him at the shelter. Same with Trevor.” Penny pointed to where Trevor was sitting on his haunches in the doorway to Penny’s bedroom, giving Greg the stinkeye because he was the cause of the delayed breakfast. “Maleficent I named myself because it seemed appropriate. She’s probably off somewhere plotting your demise.”

  “Loyal, is she?”

  “To me?” Penny let out a half laugh. “You clearly don’t know anything about cats.”

  “I am more of a dog person.”

  “Oh? What sort do you have?”

  Penny pictured something purebred and regal, like a Doberman or a Dalmatian. But Greg said, “I don’t have one. I did when I was a kid. He was a Foxhound. His name was Billy. He got a brain tumor when I was about thirteen and died. I never wanted another pet.”

  And you call yourself a dog person? Penny held back the pithy comment, because she sensed there was a lot more emotion running beneath the surface of that story than Greg’s flat delivery revealed. A brain tumor must have caused great suffering for the animal, and its owner. The fact he never wanted to invest time, or more importantly emotion, into another pet told Penny something very interesting about Greg.

  You only ever got one shot at hurting him.

  Suddenly Penny realized how ridiculous this tableau was. They were standing in her kitchen talking about animals at five thirty in the morning—with her in her pajamas no less. She glanced down and saw she was wearing a floppy dark-blue T-shirt and ugly floral boxer shorts. Not that she wanted to impress him, but did she have to be wearing her ugliest pajamas? His presence in her home made her uncomfortable, because he was probably judging her house and her cats and lord knew what else.

  “Greg, I don’t know what we’re doing here.”

  “I came to apologize.” Penny’s head snapped up. There was no derision or irony in Greg’s expression. Only sorrow. “I know you were telling the truth about Bryan. I know that he stole from you. I know that he lied to me. I saw him last night and he admitted everything. I came to say I was wrong.”

  Penny felt as stunned as Greg had looked when Mr. Rumplepants had head-butted his leg. She said nothing for so long Greg held up a hand. “It’s all right. I don’t expect you to accept my apology. I’ve behaved like a jackass. I should have looked at all the facts before blindly believing my brother, but you were so…”

  He waved a hand at her as he trailed off, making Penny feel as though her baggy pajamas weren’t as concealing as she’d first thought. Heat infused her face, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I was so what?”

  “Nothing. Forget I said that. It was me. It was all my fault.”

  He rubbed his hands over his face, his palms making a scratching sound as they worked over his stubble. For the first time Penny realized how tired he truly was. Not merely had-trouble-sleeping tired, but hadn’t-been-to-bed tired. He hadn’t slept in his clothes as she’d first thought. He hadn’t slept at all.

  “Anyway, that’s all I came to say.” He shook himself and stood tall. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I’ll go.”

  Penny stared at his retreating back and thought about how much it had cost him to come here and admit his mistakes. He wasn’t a man who took failure in his stride. He’d also just faced a very disappointing truth about his brother, a man he’d placed complete faith in. He’d been betrayed as badly as Penny had, maybe worse. It had to be worse when family screwed you over.

  Penny dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling for a heartbeat. Hoping she wasn’t going to regret the move, she called out, “Greg, wait.”

  He stopped and turned around, his hand halfway to reaching for the doorknob. Penny released a sigh. “You don’t look like you should be driving. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make you some tea.”

  “I can drive, Penny. I’ve been driving all night.”

  “Precisely why you need tea. Come on. My couch may look ugly but it’s very comfortable.”

  He hesitated a second longer before relenting. “All right. Tea would be great.”

  Penny put the kettle on. She watched Greg out of her peripheral vision as she got two mugs down from the cupboard and put a tea bag in each. By the time he got to the couch, Maleficent had emerged from whatever corner she was curled up in and had made herself comfortable right in the middle of it. Instead of brushing her aside, Greg sat on the edge of the cushion and proffered his hand.

  Maleficent glared at his offering balefully and stretched her sinuous body out to take up even more room.

  “She doesn’t like me,” Greg observed.

  “Don’t take it personally.” Penny poured the boiling water into the mugs. “She doesn’t like anybody. How do you take your tea?”

  “Black with one. Thanks.” To Maleficent Greg pointed out, “This is why so many people prefer dogs, you know.”

  Maleficent hissed in response.

  Penny brought the tea over and set it on the coffee table. She scooped the cat up and set her on the armchair across from the couch. From the look in her icy-blue eyes anyone would have thought Pe
nny had tossed her in a pile of garbage.

  Greg remarked, “She really doesn’t like anyone. And you saved her from a shelter?”

  “I guess when she leads the cat army to world domination and turns us all into human slaves, I’ll regret that. But in the meantime, she does have her moments.” Maleficent was still glaring, and Penny admitted, “This isn’t one of them, but there are moments.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “That’s nice for a change,” Penny quipped before she thought better of it. She bit her lip as she took a seat on the couch, next to Greg because there wasn’t anywhere else now that Maleficent was guarding the armchair. She should have thought of that before she’d moved the cat. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not? You’re right. I didn’t take your word about anything and I should have.”

  Penny sighed. “Bryan’s your brother. I guess if the situations were reversed I’d have done the same thing.”

  “You have a brother?”

  “Two sisters. Emily and Hope. Both older. Both so gorgeous I could spit.”

  She felt him studying her profile. “It must run in the family.”

  A tingling heat filled her at his implied compliment. Did he think she was gorgeous or was he being polite? She’d sensed him watching her once or twice while they were doing yoga, but she’d never been quite sure if it was simply because he was trying to get the poses right. He did seem kind of fixated on doing things right all the time.

  She didn’t know whether she wanted Greg to find her attractive or not. Either way seemed like bad news. It was all fine to appreciate his physical assets on an objective level and to have the occasional—okay almost nightly—fantasy, but if she wasn’t the only one toying with those thoughts…

  “You say you saw Bryan,” Penny prompted, changing the subject because her heart suddenly beat in a panicked rhythm.

  He didn’t answer right away, instead reaching for his tea and taking a long sip. Then he set his mug back down and rested his elbows on his knees. “I went to the forwarding address he’d given me but he wasn’t there. His flat mate let me in and I waited. It was after two a.m. when he got back.”