The Girl With Daisies (Midtown Brotherhood #3)

by Savannah Blevins

  Penny ended the call, her fingers shaking. She threw it to the other end of the room. How did Angel find her? She’d made sure her new number wasn’t listed anywhere. Penny scrambled to her feet and ran to the kitchen. She jerked open the first drawer and pulled out a packet of papers. These papers would officially change her name. She threw them on her table and started immediately filling in the blank spots she hadn’t finished. It was time to make a change. She couldn’t afford to have Angel tracking her down, not now. She was too close to let her mother ruin it. Penny finished the paperwork she’d let sit too long in the drawer. She hurried and got ready, running out the door. She would file them today then get a new number.

  ***

  What was a name? To Penny, it was an identity. A life she no longer wanted to live. She held the paperwork for her official name change in her hand. The line was long at the district court office, and she peered around the ten people in front of her, worried it would make her late for work. It didn’t matter, though. Betsy would cover for her if she needed it. She absolutely had to get this done. That phone call from Angel spooked her into rushing the process along.

  After today, she would no longer be Esa. No longer the little girl whose mother forgot about her on a daily basis. There were so many memories attached to that name. Nights spent alone in smelly hotel rooms, and on the couches of people whose names she didn’t know. Today would mark a new starting point in her life. She would officially leave that life behind her. With a new name, it would be harder for her mother to find her.

  Angel Duchene had already tracked down her new cell phone number, but she would change it again. Penny would change everything that associated her with that old life. She promised herself when her grandmother passed away she wouldn’t enable her mother. Penny knew her grandmother gave her mother money because she was afraid of what she might do if she didn’t. Angel would party. She would get her drugs. She’d go on living her carefree, reckless lifestyle one way or another. Gran didn’t want to see Angel turn to crime, prostitution, or worse…end up dead because her addiction drove her to such extremes.

  Penny had no such sympathy for her mother. Angel dropped her off in rural nowhere on Gran’s doorstep when she was ten years old after being dragged across half of Europe and the U.S. in pursuit of her mother’s non-existent modeling career. Angel abandoned her. It was time for Penny to return the favor. Gran had left everything to Penny in her will. Penny had enough money to keep her going for years, as long as she didn’t let Angel weasel her way into her pocketbook.

  Penny finally made it to the front of the line and handed her paperwork to the clerk. The lady read through the papers then glanced up. “Do you want to change your last name as well?”

  The lady held up her paper where Penny had written in a new last name then changed her mind and scribbled it out. “No,” she said. “That was a mistake.”

  She’d thought about it. Changing her last name would mean her mother would definitely have a more difficult time tracking her down, but she couldn’t let it go. Not yet.

  The clerk stamped something on the paper and put it in a bin behind her. “Everything looks good. As soon as it’s processed, you’ll get a new social security card in the mail, and then you can have your driver’s license changed.”

  “Thank you,” Penny said simply, and quickly made her way out of the building.

  It was done. Esa would be gone for good.

  Now she was Penny.

  Her phone vibrated in her purse as she hurried down the street. That familiar sense of dread poured over her. It would never end. Changing her name and everything about her would be the only way to escape Angel, and even then, she doubted that fear of being found would ever truly go away. Penny peeked at the screen of her phone as she rode the escalator down to the train station. Luckily, this time, it was only Betsy. She quickly answered it. “Hey, Betsy. How did your dentist appointment go?”

  “Fabulous. We have a date next week.”

  “What?”

  “Oh. You meant my tooth. Yes, he also fixed my tooth.”

  Penny laughed, pushing her hair away from her eyes. “I can’t believe you hit on your dentist.”

  “I did not hit on him. I’m not a floozy. I flirted with him. He did all the asking.”

  “Floozy? Please tell me that your unprofessional dentist is at least old enough to understand what the word floozy means.”

  “Are you insinuating that I like younger men?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t try to act like you applied for that tutoring job at the frat house at Columbia because you actually know how to do calculus.”

  Betsy laughed. “You’re just jealous because I’ve spent more time with young Copley than you lately.”

  “No, you haven’t. We work the same shift.”

  “Oh, did I forget to mention he came by last night?”

  Penny paused at the end of the escalator, moving over to the side to talk to Betsy so she wouldn’t suddenly lose signal and die of jealousy on the subway floor. “What happened? Did you talk to him?”

  Her voice sounded all teenage squeaky, but she couldn’t help it. Every time someone mentioned him, she got all flushed.

  “He’s such a gentleman,” she said, giggling between words. “He walked me to the train.”

  Penny gasped. “Shut your mouth. He. Did. Not.”

  “Yep,” Betsy said, the smugness practically eating through the phone.

  “I hate you, Betsy Connor. Hate. Hate. Hate.”

  Betsy’s laugh was deep and accusatory. “I knew you liked him.”

  “Oh, please. Of course I like him. You’ve seen the boy. He’s like the freaking Greek God of Becker Street. He walks out of his apartment and angels start to sing and women throw rose petals at his feet. He’s the sun in my shine, and I missed it because you told me to go home early.”

  “And I do apologize for that. However, I wanted you to know that after he so kindly walked me to the train, he was on his way to a party.”

  Penny frowned. “Are you trying to make it worse?”

  “Dateless,” Betsy added. “I do believe our heavenly gifted Mr. Copley is a bit shy. He mentioned something about how asking a girl out is harder than it looks. You may need to make the first move.”

  “I did. I tried talking to him about his hockey game.” She sighed, reliving the memory. “He ran out of there like I set his Jockeys on fire.”

  “Oh, he did not. I was standing right there. Besides, last night, he asked about you,” she said, and Penny could practically imagine the wicked grin on Betsy’s face. “Maybe you did set his Jockeys on fire and he liked it.”

  Penny laughed. “Geez, Bets. No more going to the dentist for you. He gets you too worked up.”

  “I’m giving you fair warning. I seen it in his eyes. He’ll be back.”

  “And I’ll be there like I always am.”

  Except, hopefully soon, it would be with a new name and different life. Penny pushed the end button on her phone and started off toward her train, but then paused in front of the sliding glass doors. In her rush she hadn’t even taken the time to properly comb her hair. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. She’d be late if she went home now. She had a brush and a couple bands in her backpack. She’d go do a one-eighty in the bathroom when she got there. Betsy was probably wrong, anyway. He wouldn’t be back that soon. Not after the way he avoided her questions and left the other day.

  She’d bet money on it. And maybe when Betsy got there that night, they would bet on it. Ten bucks that Callen Copley never walked through the doors of the Midtown Bistro ever again.

  Chapter Five

  CALLEN’S FLIRTING

  The wrought-iron chair at the corner table was uncomfortable. In fact, every seat in the entire Midtown Bistro looked uncomfortable. It was as if they didn’t want people to sit and stay for a while. Callen poked at the sandwich in front of him. He wasn’t necessarily hungry, but he’d stopped in at the Bistro on his way home from practi
ce anyway. The weather was nice, and people stirred in the city. He wasn’t quite ready to go home to the lonely space where he’d have nothing to think about but failing.

  The Rangers would trade him. Even if they did plan to renew his contract at the end of the season when he became a restricted free agent, the way he was ending his season, they would have no choice but to find someone else to fill the role they needed to back up Henrik and Austin.

  Callen could still hear the clang of the puck against the goal post. He’d dreamed about it. It was a torturous lullaby that played over and over again in his head.

  Clang. Clang. Clang. You’re a failure. Clang.

  The door of the Bistro dinged in perfect rhythm to the song in his head. It was Penny coming in for her shift. Except it barely looked like Penny. She didn’t have on her usual work wardrobe yet. She had on a pair of tight black jeans that accentuated the long, toned lines of her legs. A pink and yellow polka dotted sports bra peeked out at the neck of an oversized Beatles tank top. Her hair was wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head. She had a bottle of water in her hand and a stuffed backpack on her shoulder.

  “I’m here. I’m here.” She waved toward the blond boy behind the counter. “I just need a second to change.”

  The boy nodded back at her. “I’ll go ahead and close out my register.”

  Callen tried to eat some of his sandwich. He needed the calories for the extra workout he planned to do later, but he couldn’t focus on food. He pretended to people watch out the window, but really, he waited for Penny to return from the back room. The shiny toes of the black heels came out first, followed by Penny in her familiar black skirt that flared above her knee and the matching shirt. Her hair was down now, the long ends dangling at her elbows. She wore a beaded band around her forehead. The intricate pattern formed a row of colorful flowers. A long gold chain dangled around her neck with a giant circular charm on the end that looked like a compass.

  Penny was a bloom amid a sea of gray that blanketed everything else in his life.

  She changed the cash register out and went about what Callen assumed were her normal, beginning of shift chores. The old lady, Betsy, came in shortly after. Penny checked out two customers who waited at the counter then came to collect the empty trays. She made it halfway to the counter when she stopped.

  Penny paused mid-step in the middle of the Bistro as if someone had caught her by the shoulder. She very slowly turned her head toward Callen.

  Shit.

  He’d been staring. And now he’d been caught.

  He quickly looked away, as if that somehow would help. Her stare burned his skin. It took Penny a moment, but she finally continued her journey to the counter and retrieved the used trays. She disappeared into the back room with them.

  Callen cursed again. This time under his breath. What was he thinking?

  He stood and grabbed his tray to leave. It would be easier that way. Simpler. He’d likely get traded in a couple months anyway, so what was the point? He’d be in a new city and have new friends to make. Penny would still be in New York.

  A memory.

  Callen started toward the trashcan where he threw away the sandwich he hadn’t touched. He made it all the way to the door when he heard a voice behind him. It was soft and musical. A little nervous, perhaps.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  He paused. Everything inside of him shoved itself into his ribcage.

  Her voice. He’d recognize it anywhere now. He glanced over his shoulder. Penny stood behind the counter, her elbows leaned down on it as she studied her chipped rainbow colored nail polish. He turned around slowly, looking around at the other patrons, unsure whether or not Penny had spoken to him.

  She looked up and smiled.

  A perfect, beautiful smile.

  Yes. She was talking to him.

  “I don’t have much of an appetite,” he said, fumbling around the words. “It’s been a long week.”

  He hadn’t meant to be honest, but it came pouring out his mouth anyway. Penny pursed her lips. “What did you order? The chicken club?”

  He nodded. “And it was plain.”

  She made a disgusted noise. “That isn’t a bad week meal. You need a vanilla, double fudge sundae with three cherries on top.”

  He laughed. “Though that sounds very nice, it isn’t exactly on my training diet.”

  Penny rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you ever heard of a cheat day? Bad weeks call for a cheat day.”

  Crap.

  Say no. Just say no and put this nonsense behind you. It’s time to start looking to the future. You’ll eventually forget about how blue her eyes are, and the flowers in her hair.

  “Okay. I guess I could have one cheat day.”

  Somewhere in his brain, his common sense attempted to strangle him. It didn’t work, though. Nothing worked to keep him from talking to Penny.

  “Great.” She slapped her hand across the counter as if accepting a challenge. “I’ll whip one up for you.”

  “Only one cherry, though,” he said, stepping toward her. “Let’s not get too crazy.”

  Penny let out an offended huff. “This is my bad week recipe. If I say three cherries, it requires three cherries. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll steal one of them.”

  Yes. That would help.

  “Deal.”

  Penny disappeared into the back and returned with a giant cup of vanilla ice cream with a whole lot of fudge and, of course, three cherries. She handed him a spoon and scooted it across the counter to him. “It’s on the house.”

  Then she picked up a cherry and popped it in her mouth.

  He was done for.

  Callen took a deep breath. He could do this. He’d had a conversation with her before. It was the same. A simple, civil conversation. He eyed the extra large cup she’d put the ice cream in. “You have to help me eat this.”

  She grinned, those big blue eyes dancing happily. “I’m working. This is all for you.”

  Callen looked around the Bistro. There might have been two people there. He showcased the emptiness. “Yes, you look really busy.”

  Penny wrinkled her nose, but grabbed another spoon. She pointed it at him. “The dinner rush hour will start anytime.”

  Callen leaned down on the counter and scooped a spoonful of ice cream. “Then I guess we better eat fast.”

  Penny dug in the same time he went for his second bite. “So, why the bad week?” she asked around her giant bite of ice cream.

  Callen shoved his spoon back into the fudge. “I’m assuming you didn’t watch the game last night.”

  Penny cocked her head to the side as she licked her spoon clean. “No. I watched it. I always watch them.”

  Something stung inside of him. It was bad enough everyone else watched him fail. He didn’t want her to witness it too. She eyed him curiously. “You had five shots on goal.”

  Damn. Not only did she watch it, she paid attention.

  “Three of which hit the cross bar, and the other two were deflected before they even made it by the defense,” he said, correcting her stats.

  Penny stood straight, and it was only then Callen realized his tone had been harsh. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Like I said, it’s been tough lately.”

  “Lately? So, this isn’t just about a bad week.”

  Her voice dropped to a concerned whisper. He pressed his lips tightly together. The pressure of the metal from his lip ring sank into his skin. “You did say you watch all the games.”

  She put her spoon down. “You think you’re in a slump?”

  He looked away. “Think? I have the zeros on my stat sheet to prove it.”

  “Callen—”

  Pity. That’s what he heard in her voice. And for some reason he didn’t understand, it physically hurt. He couldn’t do this…not with her. Failing with her would be so much worse than with anyone else.

  He set his spoon down. “I should get going. I have an extra workout to do this afternoon.�
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  “No. Wait—”

  It was too late, though. He’d already pulled his wallet out of his pocket, and threw a twenty on the counter. “I hope you have a good shift tonight, and thank you for the ice cream.”

  Penny rounded the counter. He was at the door, his hand on the handle. “Please, Callen. It’s okay. We can talk about it.”

  Callen froze. Penny didn’t understand. No one would really ever understand. “No, actually, I can’t.”

  He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The pain already felt like it might cripple him. If he looked at her and saw all the things in her expression he knew would be there—he couldn’t handle it.

  He walked out and went straight to the parking garage to his truck. He needed out of the city. He wasn’t supposed to meet Sam for their shooting workshop for another hour, but he needed to put his skates on. It wouldn’t hurt to arrive early and get a couple extra shots on the goal. At this point, nothing could make his stats any worse than they already were.

  Callen made his way to the practice facility in Tarrytown. He turned the music up as loud as possible to drown out the thoughts that tried to invade his head. It didn’t work.

  He’d talked to Penny. She’d genuinely been interested in his problems, and he blew her off. It wasn’t intentional, but there was no way to explain that to her. He couldn’t tell her about his problems with talking to girls. Sure, he’d managed a semi-normal conversation with her, but as soon as things turned personal, a switch clicked inside of him.

  He panicked.

  He ran.

  By the time he made it to the locker room to change, he shook from head to toe. His issues had always caused him to be angry with himself, but today, it had hit another level. His frustrations on the ice combined with his frustrations with dating then formed a giant ball of pissed off. He almost jerked the laces out of his skates as he laced them up. He hit the ice at a sprint.

  He skated and skated. And then skated some more. He pushed himself to the brink, to the point where he could barely breathe. And even then he didn’t stop. Hard work was the only way to drain the anxiety from his body and his mind. If he was so tired he couldn’t move…couldn’t think…maybe he could forget about it all. At least for a couple peaceful moments.