The Cowboy and the Bombshell

by Dove Cavanaugh King

  I guess, in a way, it always had been.

  “Constance, he is every bit as much my child as you are. And, as the board agreed, his education and experience with Pennington Hotels makes him an excellent choice to be my successor.” The words caused those strange warm feelings to flow through me again. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling, which was just not something I was used to.

  Constance swung her angry gaze to me, her polite society façade now completely gone. “I won’t stand for this, Stone,” she snarled, rising from her chair and pointing a long manicured finger at me. “There is no way I am going to let you just waltz in here and take what should rightfully be mine.” She paused, her eyes widening as much as her Botox would allow. “This is about that little tramp, isn’t it?” Constance's eyes were wild, glazed in her fury. “That piece of trash thinks she can come in here and-”

  “Enough!” I cut her off, speaking for the first time. I had anticipated her rage, but for myself. I wouldn’t listen to her talk shit about Penelope like that.

  Constance froze, then cackled like the witch she was. “You think you’re in love with her, don’t you?” She threw her head back and howled like a loon. I was afraid she might be losing it completely. “You think that feelings and hearts and flowers are gonna make everything okay for you, Stone? That coming in here and taking the position that should be mine will prove that you are more than just a bastard? That you aren’t just some fucking mistake?”

  “Constance, that’s enough!” Harold was fuming now, finished with this whole scene. “Let’s not speak of mistakes unless you are willing to face your own.”

  This had her regaining some of her composure. She settled back into her chair, smoothing her sleek black bob around her face. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, father,” she stated smoothly.

  “Unfortunately, you do.” Harold sighed, then opened the file before him. “I have here proof, Constance. Proof that you used illegal Trojan software to infiltrate a Pennington Hotels computer, after which, you proceeded to access company documents-”

  “I am a Pennington, those documents are just as much mine as they are yours,” she insisted.

  “You may be a Pennington, Constance,” Harold said, his voice tinged with sadness. “But you are not an official employee of the company. That makes what you did a crime.”

  “And,” interjected Walter Castenberg, the chairman of the board for the company. “That’s before we even get to your little blackmail scheme.” Constance’s face paled at the mention of the biggest of her crimes. “You’ll be expected to hand over all the materials you obtained illegally, including the photos and videos.” This earned him another scowl. “You’re lucky your father talked us out of pressing charges, little girl. I doubt you’d survive long in prison,” he sneered, clearly disgusted that she was going to get away with it. But Harold had advocated hard for her to stay out of jail, and I agreed with him. I would do anything to keep the pictures and video of Penelope out of the public eye.

  Constance was quiet, her eyes darting back and forth between Harold and me as she tried to keep her anger in check. Toddrick still hadn’t said a word, but at least he was paying attention now.

  “Fine,” Constance stood, her posture every bit the American Royalty she saw herself as. “I guess if there is nothing further to say, then we will be leaving. Toddrick,” she actually snapped her fingers at him, like she would a dog. Poor fucker went to stand, too.

  “Not so fast,” Walter pipped up again. “Toddrick Grover,” Walter waited while Toddrick swung his head to look at him, mouth open, blinking like a dazed cow. “It has come to our attention that, while acting as an employee and representative of Pennington Hotels, you have been seen engaging in illegal activities, including, but not limited to, solicitation and the use of cocaine, a Schedule II controlled substance, though I’m sure you knew that already.”

  I watched as Toddrick swallowed heavily, his fleshy throat dancing above his too-tight collar. Constance was glowering at her husband. Then she whipped her eyes back to scowl at Walter. “You have no proof, and I won’t stand here and allow you to hurl unfounded accusations at my husband.”

  I had to give her credit; she was quick on her feet. Unfortunately for Constance, Hack was better.

  In a matter of a day and a half, he had provided Harold with enough ammunition to make sure that Toddrick went down for trafficking, not just possession. Ammunition, in the form of photographs, that Walter now casually threw across the table toward Constance. I watched her grit her teeth as the folder of photographs spilled out the conference table, pictures of Toddrick with his face buried in a mountain of cocaine, or another, with him and a few other guys, snorting lines of some woman’s naked backside. I learned, through Harold, that both sets of photos had been taken from the security system at the Atlantic City hotel he was supposed to be marketing. I guess good old Todd figured that if the hotel wasn’t open, the cameras wouldn’t be on. Unfortunately for him, he was wrong.

  “Nothing to say about that, Mr. Grover?” Walter questioned dryly. Toddrick merely shrugged. Knowing how things generally worked in this type of situation, even if the company did press charges, Toddrick’s rich daddy would have him bailed out and his name cleared in no time. It wouldn’t even be a blip in the Society Pages. “Well, if that is all, then consider this your notice of termination. You will have your things cleared out by the end of the day. Security will escort you out. And going forward, you are both banned from any Pennington Hotel property world wide.” And with that, Walter motioned for the huge man in a suit who had entered without anyone noticing to come forward. He placed one hand on Toddrick’s arm, the other he used to grasp Constance, who jerked out of his hold.

  “Don’t touch me, you filthy animal!” she shrieked. Taking a step toward me, her teeth bared and her breath sawing out of her like she’d run a marathon. “This isn’t over, Stone. You and that little bitch will pay for this. You are nothing! You aren’t even a Pennington!”

  I looked at her sadly, stunned at the fact that she had such hatred for me simply because my father had loved my mother before he had met hers. Constance never could handle sharing anything, even her father’s love.

  “Yes, I am, Constance,” I said, loud enough for Harold to hear me as well. “I absolutely am a Pennington. I always have been. Even when I was trying not to be.”

  As the security guard grabbed her again, she continued to shriek the whole way out of the room. “I’ll make you pay for this, Stone! You and your little blonde whore!”

  When they were gone and the room was quiet, I turned to Harold. The sadness in his eyes cut me deeply. I had never wanted to come between him and his daughters, but Constance made her own choices, and Harold had no option but to do what he had done for the sake of the entire company.

  “I don't know what I could have done differently with her,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

  “You helped her as best you could, Dad,” I replied, watching as the board of directors made their way out of the room, now that the drama was over and the future of their company was headed in a direction they were comfortable with. “She didn’t exactly give you much choice.”

  “I know, son. I know.” He was quiet for a few moments, turning to look out over the city, and I let him stew. Sometimes, quiet was the best thing for a person. Standing beside him and just taking in the view, I tried to come to terms with my own recent choices.

  Finally, Harold blew out a big breath and shook his head, turning to me. “Well, now that that’s settled, what are your plans?”

  I smiled grimly. “Give a guy a chance to get his head around it first, yeah? Shit,” I placed my hands on my hips. “I can’t believe I’m moving to New York. Silas is gonna bust my ass over this.”

  “Oh, son. I wasn’t talking about that. We’ll deal with company stuff later. I have a plan for your transition I think you may be quite pleased with.” He winked conspiratorially at me, his eyes sparking with g
lee. I didn’t know if I should be excited or nervous about what he was thinking. “I was asking what you are plans for Miss Lund? It’s not a happy ending unless the hero gets the girl.”

  Chuckling, I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m anyone’s hero, Dad.”

  “Nonsense, son. Everyone is someone’s hero. The trick is to find the one that thinks so. Now, do you have any ideas on how to woo your lady?”

  “Actually,” I said cautiously. “I do have one, but I might need some help.”

  “If it’s something I can make happen for you, son, you can consider it done.”

  I had been giving this a lot of thought. I hadn’t wanted to go see Penelope until this was settled, until I could promise her that Constance wouldn’t be able to hurt her. I could do that now, and my heart rate picked up at the prospect of seeing Penelope again. “Well, Dad, I don’t suppose you have any friends in the NYPD do you.”

  To that, my father burst out laughing. “Oh, Stone. I like your style.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Penelope

  A week had gone by. An entire week and I hadn’t heard from Stone.

  Not that I blamed him. After all, I had left out of the blue, with zero explanation. And I hadn’t exactly tried to call him either.

  The truth was, I was afraid. I was afraid that the reason he hadn’t reached out to me was because he didn’t want to.

  Didn’t want me.

  When I left that restaurant, I was so angry. Angry that he’d just decided my life for me. Angry that he’d just assumed that I’d follow him wherever he wanted to go, with no questions, like some docile little sheep.

  I felt that I had to take a stand. So I had.

  I just hadn’t expected it to be this permanent. I had fully intended to talk to him, to discuss the possibilities for us. If he wanted there to be an us, I was ready to sacrifice to be with him. But I wanted to be asked, not told. I wanted my opinions and feelings on the matter to be considered.

  And then disaster struck.

  When I opened that email, my whole life changed. Seeing myself like that, seeing a beautiful and passionate moment, a private moment, turned into something that looked dirty and degrading, it broke me a little.

  But getting on the plane knowing that my time in Las Vegas, my career with Pennington Hotels, and my relationship with Stone were all over?

  That broke me a lot.

  I had spent the last week moping and feeling sorry for myself.

  Oh, and job hunting. Because there was no way I could mope for long. Not when the bills needed to be paid.

  So I sat there, at the little table in our kitchen, looking through the want ads on my phone and wishing for the first time in my life that I wasn’t in New York.

  Right at that moment, I would have given just about anything to be back in Nevada. I missed Las Vegas for so many reasons, not the least of which were the friends I had made there. I would miss my lunches with Daphne and my talks with Dolly that always dissolved into fits of giggles. I would miss Moira and the girls from the call center, and Silas and the way he always knew just what to say that would embarrass Stone in the best way possible.

  And I missed the hell out of Stone.

  His gruff demeanor and the way he worked so hard to prove himself, especially when he didn’t have to. How he always wanted what was best for the people around him, even if he tried to do it anonymously. I loved watching him interact with Daphne, being the big brother he was always meant to be, and the way he was with Silas, solid and reliable and the type of person you knew you could count on when you needed them.

  I missed the way he looked at me, like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out, but he enjoyed trying all the same. I missed how his hands felt against my skin, his rough calluses causing shivers as they roamed my body, mapping every plane and curve. And the way his warm heat reached all the way to my bones.

  I missed his kisses, the slow and passionate ones that felt like they could go on forever, as well as the rough and frenzied ones that told me that he couldn’t wait another minute to be with me, touching me, inside me.

  And I missed the way he held me, late at night, when he was asleep, his face finally releasing the stress and angst he carried around. I would lay next to him and watch as a kind of peace settled over him, but the whole time, he never let me go, his body always reaching across the bed for mine as though even his subconscious had to know where I was at any given moment.

  That was what made the fact that I hadn’t heard from him hurt the way it did. I didn’t know how I could have felt so much, could ache for him this way, and yet he seemed to feel nothing at all.

  I looked up from my phone when I heard the key in the lock. My mom came in, her peacock blue scrubs bright in the late afternoon sun. She had worked the early shift today, so I told her I would cook dinner, which meant I picked up a frozen lasagna and tossed it in the oven.

  She turned to me, her eyes concerned even though there was a smile on her face. “Hey, there Penny Lane.” I smiled at the use of my childhood nickname. She hadn’t called me that for a long time. I was typically my dad’s thing, being that he was the Beatles fan in the house, but mom tended to bring it out when I needed a bit of a boost.

  Apparently, she thought that was today. And I was grateful.

  “Hi, Mom. How was your shift?”

  “Oh, not too bad today, actually. The girls say hi. They want you to come by, when you can.”

  “I will.” Just the thought of all the ladies my mom worked with made me smile. They had been so kind, gifting me those beautiful pink shoes before I left, their faith in me never wavering. I kind of felt like I let them down, and I wasn’t ready to face them yet.

  I was too ashamed.

  Shoving that thought to the back of my mind, I took a breath. “I went to see Dad today.”

  My mom looked at me from where she was hanging her jacket in the closet. “Oh,” she said solemnly. “And how was that.”

  It was hard, actually, but needed. I knew that if he were here, dad would be telling me to fight, not just what Constance had done to me, but for Stone, too. I think my father would have liked Stone, once he got past the grumpy parts. They both had that thing inside them that made them care, that made them want to look out for those that couldn’t look out for themselves. In my mind, I could see them sitting together, watching a western, while mom and I cooked a meal. It was an image that made my heart clench, and I held on to it for a few moments before answering my mom.

  “Good, I think. We talked.” I talked, he listened. “It felt good to be back there. But,” I paused, wondering how she’d take the next thing I was going to say. “I don’t think I’m gonna go back for a while, you know? I think dad would want me, want us, to move forward a bit.” I watched as my mom smiled, her eyes filling with tears as she reached for me.

  “I think you’re right, baby.” I could see she meant it, even if it hurt a bit to say. “I think it’s time. Your dad will always be with us, but we can’t stay still anymore.” She pulled me into a hug, squeezing me so tight I felt some of my jagged edges coming back together. “I am so proud of you, Penelope.”

  I buried my face in her shoulder to hide my tears, loving the smells I always associated with my mom; her shampoo, warm coffee, and the disinfectant the hospital used. They felt so familiar, so needed right now, when everything seemed so different. “How can you be proud of me, Mom? I lost. And I-I…”

  I had told my mother, in as little detail as possible, about the photos and the blackmail. I was so ashamed I couldn’t say it again.

  “Penelope, don’t you feel bad about it for one damn second.” She pushed me back, her hand sweeping my lank hair out of my eyes. “You did nothing wrong. It was your privacy that got invaded, and that makes you the victim,” she spat, her anger over my lack of desire to pursue charges was real, but she understood the risks that meant for me as well, so left the choice up to me. “You are a grown woman, and if you want to,” she pa
used, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “Get it on in your office, then that’s your choice.”

  I burst out laughing, my tears still there, but knowing she didn’t think less of me because of my behavior was a weight off my shoulders. “Thanks Mom. But, please. Never say that again, alright?”

  She smiled at me, and this time it reached her eyes. “I make no promises. Now, I’ll finish dinner while you go take a shower. I love you, my girl. But, man, do you stink.”

  Great, now I was embarrassed again. “Deal.”

  Twenty minutes later I re-entered the kitchen, fresh as a daisy in clean yoga pants and a long-sleeved shirt. My freshly washed hair was up in a messy bun and I had on thick woolly socks. It may have been spring, but the Mojave Desert this wasn’t, and a chill hung in the air. I seriously hated cold feet.

  Mom was just pulling the lasagna out of the oven and I was setting the table when the sound of sirens made us both look up. It was kind of a habit for families of police officers, and one we couldn’t seem to kick. It was just two short bursts, not the whole siren wail, so we didn’t think much of it. But when it happened again a few seconds later, and then again, we decided to check it out.

  Opening the front door, I could hardly believe the sight that greeted me. There were half a dozen police cruisers parked on our street, lights flashing like a carnival. Neighbors were starting to pour out of their homes looking as curious as we were as to what was going on. When the officers started to get out of their vehicles, I realized I still recognized a few of them from dad’s time on the force. They waved at us, the smiles on their faces telling me something up.

  I was about to approach someone to ask for details when a sound reached me coming from around the corner. I may have only been riding once in my life, but the sound of hooves was unmistakable. Looking to the end of my street, I was shocked when I saw a horse.