Page 129 of Watching Her

He had me chuckling. “You’re right.”

“Yeah, as always. Now, what are you going to do?” Kingston asked.

“I’m going to make a phone call and soon I’m going to make a business proposition.”

* * *

Penelope

The day had been worthless.

I’d been too unsettled to do anything. I’d almost picked up the phone several times, but had maintained my resolve, a promise made to myself.

One thing I had done was send both Jasmine and Chantal a note of warning about the game. Maybe they already knew. It was entirely possible they didn’t mind.

Then again, did I?

Oh, my mind was muddled.

Mostly because I hadn’t heard from Christian.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see his face and the way he’d looked at me. Yes, the man was completely possessive by nature, but I’d enjoyed the feeling. Very much so. I’d learned a lot about myself, including that I obviously had a screw or two missing, but the missing him part almost overrode everything else.

Yet I was angry, sad, and uncertain how I should feel. I was also being ridiculous, but I was finished being sorry for myself. That’s why I’d opened a fresh bottle of wine and turned on some music.

Somehow, I needed to soothe the ache or I’d fall prey to an emotion I didn’t need to feel.

With the wineglass in hand, I headed for the living room. It was lovely outside, very warm. Maybe I’d head out to the deck and enjoy the sunset.

You know what you’ll do. You’ll think about Christian and the ride on the motorcycle.

Grimacing, I even threw up my middle finger to my inner self. I wasn’t about to allow that to happen.

Before I made it to the back door, I heard a knock on the front. Stopping short, my nerves were instantly on edge. Anyone could be standing outside.

Carrington. The bastard.

Marlee. Because she’d called and I hadn’t returned her call.

Christian. Right. As if that was going to happen. He hadn’t even acknowledged what I’d sent. Obviously, I didn’t matter to him.

What if it was another courier with a glorious invitation? No, I doubted that as well. Well, the last thing I was going to do was hide inside my own house. Carrington could kiss my ass. I took long strides, throwing open the door.

And you bet I was shocked as hell. “Mr. Covington.”

He offered a kind smile. “Penelope. Please call me George. We worked together for far too long for you to continue calling me by such a formal name.”

“Okay. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you if you have the time.”

I hated that every muscle had tensed, but here we were. There was too much anger between us. “Not to be rude, but I don’t know what we have to discuss.”

“Please. Just allow me a few minutes of your time. I promise you that you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

After a few seconds, I stood back, opening the door further. “Please come in.”

He did, wiping his hands on his trousers. As soon as I closed the door, I realized I still had the wine in my hand. His grin and nod toward the glass was unexpected.