Three Single Wives: The devilishly twisty, breathlessly addictive must-read thriller

by Gina LaManna

  “I couldn’t possibly.”

  She played along, wondering how on earth they’d gone from their awkward last encounter to this playful, exciting one. And just like that, like the snap of a breadstick, Penny thought they were back on track.

  Once they’d checked out and each held her bag—one significantly more full than the other—Penny and Roman walked side by side out the sliding doors. She glanced sideways at him and wondered if this was what it would feel like. Their life, if they were ever allowed to live it together. Grocery shopping, cracking jokes, smiling beneath a sunny day.

  “Where’s your car?” Roman asked. “I can walk you to it.”

  “I took the bus.”

  “The bus?”

  “You know, the big thing with wheels that carts people around town.”

  “I’ll give you a ride home,” Roman said. “Where do you live?”

  “That’s really not—”

  “Hollywood?”

  Penny wondered if Roman had checked her files or if it was a lucky guess. Maybe it didn’t make a difference.

  “Hollywood,” she confirmed. Then, on a whim, “I guess if you’re not busy…”

  The car ride to Penny’s apartment started out quiet. They passed the first few minutes listening to easy jazz, staring out the windows. There were a million questions Penny wanted to ask, but to do so would ruin the day. After two city blocks in tense silence, Penny made the snap decision to relax and enjoy. To let Roman make the first move this time around. Penny had cued him up. It was time to let him take the reins.

  Twenty minutes later, and Roman hadn’t taken a swing. The two had managed bits of small talk as they cruised through the palm tree–lined streets but had avoided anything of substance. In a sense, it was almost a relief—the normalcy of it all.

  “I’m right here,” Penny said finally, gesturing toward her building. “Thank you so much for the ride.”

  “You’re not going to invite me up?”

  Penny wiped her sweaty palms on her lap. When she glanced over at Roman, she saw him give her a teasing smile, but a sparkling challenge glistened in his eyes. She wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “I don’t have a great place,” she said. “Sadly, the inside’s not much better than the outside.”

  They both stared at the outside for a moment.

  “I think that’s a wise decision,” Roman said, his lips flickering in another quick smile as he turned back. “It was nice seeing you today.”

  “Roman…” Penny heaved a breath.

  She wanted to ask what they were doing. Why he was so kind and friendly to her sometimes, and why, other times, he was cold and distant. But she couldn’t vocalize those questions, because they might ruin everything. She’d learned from Ryan Anderson that sometimes, less was more. More could quickly become too much. And too much was…suffocating.

  “It was nice to see you, too.” Penny climbed out of the car, ripping her gaze from Roman’s before they broke their peaceful moment. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  She rushed inside, hoofed it upstairs. She was just putting away her paltry items when there was a knock on the door. Penny just about fainted onto her can of beautiful, overpriced beans. Three dollars was a small price to pay for the day she’d had. Especially if it involved Roman coming upstairs because he’d found he just couldn’t stay away.

  Rushing to the door, Penny pulled it open, her heart sinking as she found Lucky standing there instead. He wore a stained wifebeater and pinched a cigarette between his lips. He held a grocery bag in his hands.

  “Some asshole left this outside my door with your name on it,” Lucky said. “Is it the same asshole who keeps sending you flowers?”

  “I—” Penny didn’t think Ryan’s incessant flower sending was a particularly asshole-ish move, but apparently it annoyed her landlord. “Sorry.”

  “Tell your suitor that deliveries need to be left outside your door,” Lucky said. “Next time they leave something outside my door…it’s mine.”

  “Understood.”

  Penny reached for the bag of groceries and drew it to her. She kicked the door shut behind her and immediately went to the couch and deposited it on the cushion next to her. On top, there was a note: Enjoy. —Roman

  Penny pressed the note to her chest. It was written in pencil on the back of a receipt for gas—something that had probably been sitting in Roman’s glove compartment. Then she set it down and reached for the bag.

  She spent the next half hour carefully unpacking the gorgeous, gorgeous supplies that would feed a king for a month. As she delicately washed raspberries and daintily plucked grapes off their vines, she felt optimistic for the first time in weeks. He cared for her. He must, or else why would he have left her a bag of groceries that had cost well over a hundred dollars?

  There was the small chance Roman would have done the same thing for anyone—offered a ride, gifted groceries, made light banter in the car. But was that actually true? If it were Ryan Anderson he’d run into in the store, would Roman have offered him a ride home and teased him about being invited upstairs?

  Penny popped a grape into her mouth and chewed.

  She thought not.

  TRANSCRIPT

  Prosecution: Mr. Anderson, please tell us about your relationship with Penny Sands.

  Ryan Anderson: Well, I noticed Penny the day she walked into class. I don’t think she noticed me, though. Not that I was surprised. I mean, she’s gorgeous, and I’m just…well, me.

  Prosecution: What made her start noticing you?

  Ryan Anderson: I asked her on a date a few weeks into class.

  Prosecution: And she accepted?

  Ryan Anderson: She sure did. We went out a few times.

  Prosecution: Did you ever have sex with Ms. Sands?

  Ryan Anderson: Do I have to answer that?

  The Court: Yes.

  Ryan Anderson: We slept together a couple of times. It was great. Penny’s great. We were starting to care about one another, so don’t get any ideas about her being easy.

  Prosecution: You started to care for Ms. Sands?

  Ryan Anderson: Yeah, I did. I really liked her. What’s not to like? She’s cute, sweet, fun. Not enough of that out here in Hollywood.

  Prosecution: Did Penny reciprocate your feelings?

  Ryan Anderson: I think so.

  Prosecution: Why did the two of you stop seeing each other?

  Ryan Anderson: It was her choice. She started dating someone else.

  Prosecution: Did you know who?

  Ryan Anderson: Not at the time. I obviously know now.

  Prosecution: Were there any hard feelings between the two of you?

  Ryan Anderson: Nope. There weren’t then, and there aren’t now. At least as far as I know.

  Prosecution: You studied under Roman Tate as well, didn’t you?

  Ryan Anderson: That’s where we met.

  Prosecution: What did you think of him?

  Ryan Anderson: I thought he was talented. But apparently the real talent was his wife.

  Prosecution: What makes you say that?

  Ryan Anderson: Eliza Tate killed her husband and almost got away with it. I mean, that’s rule number one in Hollywood, right? It’s always the wife.

  SIXTEEN

  Six Months Before

  August 2018

  Skulking into the familiar studio off Sunset Boulevard, Penny smoothed the flirty ruffles fringing the bottom of her skirt and wondered if this would be the night. The night Roman finally explained everything.

  The thing that had been bothering Penny about their relationship was that she’d never set out to destroy a marriage. As a rule, she only stole things that wouldn’t be missed. She didn’t steal husbands. Penny had never desired complicated, and she was entering the definition of complicated—especially after their pleasant pseudo-date at the grocery store. So what if Penny had orchestrated it? Roman was the one who’d offered her a ride home.

  Thre
e strikes and he’s out, Penny reminded herself. Roman had been promising to explain himself for some time now, and he’d had plenty of opportunities. If he couldn’t make good on his word to come clean to Penny, there would be no more chances. As difficult as it would be, she would walk away.

  Sliding like an eel into her auditorium seat, Penny made a show of adjusting her headphones to avoid conversation with her peers. She doodled on the notebook in front of her, so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t bat an eye when Ryan Anderson took the chair next to her.

  “Hey, Penny,” he said, flicking his pretty hair off his pretty forehead. “You look nice.”

  Penny gave a tight smile, a flimsy nod.

  “Say, I was wondering,” Ryan continued, oblivious to her sour mood, “if I could buy you a drink tonight?”

  Penny looked over at Ryan. He flinched under her scathing stare. A wiggle of guilt tripped into Penny’s stomach, but she pushed it away and relented slightly, softening her glare around the edges.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “But—I thought—” Ryan frowned. “I’m sorry, I guess I got the wrong impression. Did I say something wrong? I thought we had a nice time?”

  “No, we did… It’s not you. I’m not in a great place right now.”

  “Ah.”

  The wiggle of guilt returned. Ryan had been nothing but sweet and interested in the weeks following their last date, texting her occasionally and sending flowers to her apartment once a week. But Penny couldn’t find it in herself to muster any sort of enthusiasm in return. A fact that was more than a little concerning if she thought about it. So most days, Penny avoided thinking about it.

  Roman entered the room then, looking like a man against Ryan’s boyish, hopeful expression. A sigh fell from Penny’s lips as she watched him, unable to ignore the fact that Roman refused to make eye contact with her. She looked down and scratched at her notebook. Debated. Got an idea.

  “Actually…” She spun back to face Ryan and encouraged her lips to wear a smile. “Let’s get a drink,” Penny amended. “It’ll be good for me to get out.”

  “Great! I’ll pick you up at your place around ten.”

  As Penny nodded in confirmation, she felt the first pricks of satisfaction trickling down her spine. Penny had learned the hard way that people liked to take from her. They took, and they took, and they took…until she took back. Currently, Roman was taking everything from her. In order to regain a tiny bit of control, it was time for Penny to act. Even if the only thing she could take was her willingness to wait.

  Penny’s false smile flickered into one of genuine interest as she felt a figure approach her seat. Without glancing that way, she knew it was Roman. She could sense his presence by the flash of hot breath against her neck. But instead of feeling hopeful and uneasy, she felt calm and collected. That was what taking did for Penny—it balanced her.

  “Could I speak to you for a moment, Ms. Sands?” Roman’s voice rolled like a thundercloud over her shoulder. “In private.”

  Ryan gave Penny a knowing smile. If only he knew, Penny thought dryly, pulling herself from her seat and stalking backstage after her instructor. It was abandoned since most students either hadn’t yet arrived or were filing into their seats.

  “I’m sorry,” Roman said abruptly, whirling to face Penny in a darkened corner of the room.

  He caught Penny off guard, both with the intensity of his stare and the apology. “For?”

  “Let’s not play this game.” Roman’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go out with Ryan Anderson.”

  “What’s it to you?” she said in shocked disbelief that her plan had worked so quickly. “You’re married. Remember?”

  “I know boys like Ryan, and I know women like you.” Roman inched closer to Penny. His hand came up as if he wanted to touch her, but he refrained. “You deserve better.”

  “The man I want isn’t available.”

  “What if he is?”

  Her throat dried. “He’s not—”

  “Would an unavailable man kiss you like this?” Roman backed Penny against the wall, pressed her hard against it. He dipped his head to hers, tasted her. Lingered.

  His touch made Penny shiver; his words made her blush. Her head knocked against the wall. She liked it, the raw intensity of it all. She’d never felt more wanted, more needed. It was her weakness, to be wanted, her kryptonite. And either Roman Tate had fallen right back in love with Penny Sands, or he was even better at playing the game than she.

  But as Penny knew, all good things came to an end. This time, the end came in a rush as Penny’s wits flooded back to her. She stepped back, hugging her arms around her body. “You promised! You promised me you’d explain.”

  “Penny—”

  “That’s the last time you’ll kiss me.” Penny felt tears sting her eyes. “I don’t know why, but I care too much about you to have half of you. And if you aren’t ready to give me everything, then this is where we end.”

  Penny waited, watching Roman’s face for a sign he would relent, silently wishing the hopeful part of her would die so she could walk away unscathed. But emotions were stubborn things, and Penny’s refused to let go without a cost.

  When Roman couldn’t do more than shake his head, Penny blinked and gave a nod of finality. She turned, striding away from him even as he started to speak. She never heard what he had to say, because she was already gone.

  Karma, karma. Penny had taken from many, and now the thing she wanted most was being taken from her. Not that it had ever been hers to have—a small fact that had never stopped her before.

  As she stalked out of the studio, she ignored Ryan’s confused wave. She ignored his text, too, and burst out the doorway through the throng of students trying to weave their way inside. Penny got an elbow to the ribs while another student stepped on her foot. She didn’t stop until she was outside, sucking fresh air like her life depended on it.

  She didn’t look at her phone until she made it home. A text message was waiting for her.

  Four words.

  Can I come over?

  _______________________________

  Penny’s phone beeped.

  She cracked one eye open and was rewarded by a shard of sunlight piercing her bedroom window. The shades were pulled, but as most of them were broken or dented, they failed to block the morning’s rays.

  The figure next to her shifted, groaned. “Can you do something about the brightness? I’m going blind.”

  Penny was too busy reaching for her phone to respond. After one look at the screen, she sat up in bed, pulling the sheets tight to her chest. Another email. Another message from Roman.

  “Did you hear me?” Ryan mumbled. “Put your phone down, babe. What’s so important this early in the morning? Don’t tell me it’s him.”

  “Him?” Penny froze. Was she that obvious? If Ryan Anderson had noticed that Penny had been obsessing over Roman, who else had noticed? “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  Penny was too distracted by her phone to worry about Ryan’s somewhat cryptic answer. Maybe Ryan had just made a lucky guess, and it was Penny who was driving herself wild with paranoia. Musing over the idea, she hauled herself out of bed and slipped her robe over naked shoulders. Tightening the strap around her waist, she grabbed one of three towels she owned and threw it over the curtain rod to block the light.

  “You look nice.” Ryan peeked out from under his arm. “Come back to bed. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Let me put on some coffee first.”

  Ryan made a playful, half-hearted swipe for Penny’s robe, but she ducked out of the way and scurried toward the kitchen. Instead of feeling playful back, she felt annoyed. Not that Ryan had done anything wrong. To be fair, he’d been quite generous the previous evening… starting with the big bouquet of beautiful roses and ending with her first orgasm in months.
His persistence had to count for something.

  Unfortunately for Penny, his persistence was a bit smothering. She found his lavish gifts too forward. His thoughtful, frequent texts annoying. She hated the way he called her on the phone just to talk. She shrugged off his advances every time they were in public and he tried to kiss her or, God forbid, hold her hand.

  She was being ridiculous. Other women would kill for the attention Ryan was trying to shower on her. But Penny’s logic had broken somewhere along the line, and as her thoughts of Ryan coincided with her memory from the previous evening, a rush of warmth climbed Penny’s spine, followed by a slow drip of guilt into her belly.

  She’d kissed Roman. Slept with Ryan. And the fact that she’d done both in one day meant she’d probably been trying to scrub Roman’s kiss from her mind by sliding between the sheets with Ryan.

  Penny shoved the carafe a bit too hard into the coffee maker, rattling the glass walls. She scrunched her eyes shut to prevent the nausea from overtaking her. Penny’s mother had warned her about men like Roman, but she hadn’t listened; she’d thought she could handle him. But Penny Sands was no match for Roman Tate.

  Penny leaned a hip against the counter. At the same time, she wasn’t interested in a man like Ryan. She had simply latched on to him like a lifeboat in a raging ocean, hoping for a splash of warmth in a dark and frigid storm.

  Roman, on the other hand, was a yacht—a magnificent, elusive boat far superior to all the rest. Ryan Anderson would never be a yacht. But what good was a yacht if it was always out of reach? Shouldn’t she choose the lifeboat if the alternative was drowning?

  As the coffee gurgled to life, she glanced again at her phone before flipping it upside down and leaving it on the counter. She made her way back to her lifeboat and perched on the bed. Ryan’s fingers stroked her knee, and the simple movement weakened her resolve. But it didn’t eradicate it.

  “Ryan, I’m going to be honest with you.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, his gym-toned muscles flexing as he gave her a curious look. “Okay.”