Hard and Fast: Italian Stallions, Book 2, page 21
She nodded. That was the one truth that had made her pain more bearable. “I know.”
“He left because of him. And given the things you’ve told me, I suspect he’s suffering as much as, if not worse than, you are.”
She hoped not. She’d witnessed too much of the pain he still carried over his mother’s suicide. She would hate to think she was causing him even more.
Rhys put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him as he said, “Now promise me you won’t be one of those people who believes they can change someone. Gage walked away because he hasn’t dealt with his past, and therefore, he can’t give you what you want. You have to accept that.”
“I do,” Penny insisted. “I’m perfectly aware that the only person I can change is me. I’ve started the transformation, but I need to keep going.”
“Going how?”
“I’m going full-on T. Swift. Gonna shake this off. Move on. I’m even going to find a date for my birthday party.”
Rhys smiled. “That’s my girl.”
“My game isn’t over yet. I still have a few more lives to play with.”
He rose from the couch. “You and those damn video games. Put some shoes on.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re coming to dinner at my place. Knowing you, there’s nothing in that refrigerator of yours but days-old takeout and frozen pizza.”
“Actually, there’s not even that much. I was about to have cereal for dinner,” she confessed.
“Don’t tell Aunt Berta that unless you’re prepared for a very long lecture on the importance of good food.”
Penny pretended to lock her lips, tossing away the imaginary key. While her chest was still tight, she felt infinitely lighter than she had an hour ago.
Thank God for big brothers.
Chapter Eighteen
It was nearly six on Thursday when Penny returned home from work with dinner in hand. Chinese takeout. Joining Rhys for dinner had been just the push she needed to get up and get on with her life. Being in a house filled with so much life, so much love, would have depressed the old Penny. Last night, it had done the opposite. It had renewed her purpose for seeking to reinvent herself.
She headed toward the door to her apartment then paused.
Taking a deep breath, she walked to David’s door instead and knocked.
He answered it, clearly surprised to see her there.
“Well, hello there, neighbor,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Hiya.”
“Just getting home from work?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Me and my shrimp fried rice.”
He laughed. “I just finished pork lo mien. Looks like we let the same Chinese restaurant feed us.”
“Cooking for one sucks.”
David agreed. “It really does. Never seems worth the bother. A lot of nights, I just heat up a can of soup.”
“Sounds a lot fancier than my bowl of cereal. Listen, my friends and family are throwing a birthday party for me on Saturday. I know you’re still pretty new to the city and don’t know a lot of people. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me. Great opportunity to get out and meet some really nice folks. There’s going to be lots of food and booze and dancing.”
David smiled. “You had me at food. I’d love to go with you.”
“Great.” Penny gave him the rest of the details, and they decided to meet right there in the hallway between their apartments at seven on Saturday. “See you then.”
“Enjoy your fried rice,” David added as he closed the door.
Penny crossed the hall to her apartment and walked in.
“Well, I did it,” she announced to the cats, who meowed loudly. She pretended they were responding to her, offering their congratulations, even though she knew they were begging to be fed. Harry nearly tripped her in his race to the food bowl.
She fed them then popped open the take-out carton and began eating her own dinner while standing next to the counter.
She sighed after a few bites, trying to work up some enthusiasm over the coming party and her date with David. She knew she was taking a step in the right direction…but rather than excitement, she just sort of wished the whole thing was already over.
The silence that had been lingering between her and Gage felt like a dark cloud hovering over her head. She hated walking around the office like she was working her way through a minefield. She also hated constantly fearing and hoping she’d run into him, wondering what he’d say to her.
The longer they went without speaking, the more it bothered her.
She’d replayed Friday night over in her mind a million times, and she’d decided nothing had been said by either of them that should have ruined the friendship.
So he’d lied and made up an excuse to leave.
So she’d pushed him a little about his past relationships. And his mother.
They hadn’t said hurtful things, hadn’t yelled or screamed or insulted one another.
They’d put a time limit on the lessons, and it expired. That was it. Nothing more and nothing less.
Most of that was a lie, but she clung to it all like it was the God’s honest truth. She had to…so that what she did next wouldn’t feel like such a monumental mistake.
Picking up her phone, she typed out a text message, re-reading it three times.
* * *
I wanted to say thanks to you for the past few weeks, for the makeover, the clothes, the lessons. I’m sorry for the way things ended on Friday, and I hope that someday we can find our way back to being friends. Toby sucks at Dead by Daylight and you’re the only person who can give me a run for my money in GTA. I asked my neighbor to the birthday party. He said yes. I never could have done that without your help. See you at work.
* * *
It was standard Penny. Easy, breezy, revealing nothing of her true feelings.
She hated it and considered deleting the whole thing.
One step forward, twelve back.
She swallowed her pride, drop-kicked the part of her that knew this was wrong, and hit send.
Because she missed him so bad it hurt.
That pain only continued to grow when she saw her message had not only been delivered but read.
No reply came that night, and there still wasn’t one the next morning.
“Okay,” she said to herself. “So…no more of that.” She stared at her reflection in the mirror, looked long and hard. She pointed a very stern finger at herself. “You’re allowed one backslide and that was it.”
Glancing down, she spotted Forrest at his usual spot, his head cocked to the right, staring at the side of the bathtub as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. She laughed despite the heaviness that hadn’t left her since Gage left the apartment.
“Well, at least I still have you,” she said to the silly cat.
Then she turned back to the mirror, Gage’s words from their first night together coming back to her.
And she saw it.
No, she didn’t just see it. She felt it.
She liked the person who was looking back at her. Yeah, she was a bit quirky, and damned if she couldn’t see yet another fricking zit fighting its way to the surface on her forehead, and it probably wasn’t normal to talk to cats as much as she did.
But who cared? All of that was part of who she was.
She smiled, determined to shrug off the last of her melancholy.
Today was the day she introduced the world to the real Penny Beaumont.
Gage pushed his keyboard away with a little more force than was necessary. Then he picked up his cellphone and re-read the text Penny had sent. He’d spent the better part of last night tossing and turning in his bed, telling himself to leave it alone, not to respond. What the fuck could he say to her anyway?
He’d consistently made a complete mess of things ever since making that second wager.
No. He’d been screwing up since the night he took her virginity.
Because sleeping with her had never been about lessons. He’d had sex with her because he wanted her so badly. Because he…
“Fuck,” he spat out, slamming his fist on his desk.
“I see your mood is improving.”
Gage glanced up, scowling. “Why don’t you ever fucking knock?”
Matt shrugged as he and Conor walked in. “It’s my company. I don’t have to.”
“It’s our company,” Gage said, playing his brother’s stupid game.
Matt had accused him once, many years earlier, of not caring about Russo Enterprises. Of course, at the time, his brother had been right. Gage had been in a spiral for a couple of years after their parents’ deaths, drinking, sleeping with countless women, always late to work, and when he was there, doing little of value.
He and Matt had gotten into the mother of all arguments one afternoon when Matt told him it was time for him to grow up and assume responsibility for their legacy, for their company. Gage, hungover and contrary as hell, had told Matt he could take his fucking company and shove it up his ass.
Time heals all wounds, and eventually Gage found his way out of the bottle. He’d started to apply himself to his job, tapping into his love for computers and technology, acquiring smaller companies and tech upstarts, adding those profitable ventures to Russo’s already expansive enterprises.
Since then, Matt like to call Russo his company, forcing Gage to stake his claim, to admit that he cared about it as much as his older brother did.
His brothers helped themselves to the chairs across from his desk. It wasn’t uncommon for Matt to stop by a couple times a day to discuss business matters. After all, they both had large offices on the same floor. However, Conor’s appearance wasn’t the norm. His brother preferred his privacy, so he’d set up his office at Enigma, working from the nightclub instead, claiming there were far fewer interruptions there.
“Let’s make whatever this is quick. I’m busy,” Gage barked, in no mood for whatever it was that had driven both his brothers to his office.
“Very well. I asked Conor to join me here for an intervention,” Matt explained.
“What he failed to include was what the hell we’re intervening in,” Conor added, clearly annoyed at having his well-organized routine disrupted.
Matt must have been very persuasive—or demanding—if he’d gotten Conor away from his desk.
Gage was afraid he knew the reason behind this visit. After all, he’d bailed on doing Penny’s annual review, which was his responsibility as her direct supervisor. He’d dropped her file on Matt’s desk Wednesday morning, complete with all his notes about, and evaluation of, her current work, his suggestion for her salary increase, including stock options, perks he knew she’d love, and avenues for her possible advancement in the company.
He’d lied and told his brother he’d double-booked himself, that he needed Matt to handle Penny’s review. Matt had, of course, seen right through the lie, but to Gage’s surprise, he’d agreed to do it without further questions.
Gage should have known he’d have to pay the piper later.
Later had arrived.
“Cut to the chase,” he said like a man facing the firing squad.
“What’s the deal with you and Penny?” Matt asked.
“Penny who?” Conor chimed in.
Matt replied without looking away from Gage. “Beaumont.”
Conor’s confusion seemed to grow. “The IT girl?”
“Yeah,” Gage responded miserably. “The IT girl.”
“What about her?” Conor asked before the light came on. “Wait. You’ve got something for the IT girl?” he asked, absolutely aghast.
“What’s so strange about that?” Gage asked hotly, his brother’s tone pissing him off even more.
“Are we talking about the same woman? Isn’t she the one with the crazy hair? The big glasses? The mom jeans?”
Conor obviously hadn’t seen Penny lately. Not that it mattered to Gage. New version or old, his feelings for her were completely the same.
“I’m in love with her.”
It was the first time he’d said the words aloud.
Conor whistled. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day,” he said, while Matt remained silent.
Gage felt like he should say more, try to explain, but saying those five words had been hard enough. And after that, what more was there to say, really? He’d done the one thing he’d sworn never to do.
Given his heart to a woman.
Left himself open for a whole shit-ton of hurt.
Conor was the first to recover. “Okay. Well, then, what’s the problem?”
Gage thought that should be obvious. After all, that was the problem, wasn’t it?
“I’m…I can’t…I’m not doing that.” Wow, captain of the debate team, he would never be.
“Doing what?” Conor asked.
Gage couldn’t find a way to put it into words. And even if he could, he wasn’t sure he would say it anyway. It had been too many years since he and his brothers had been close, since they’d shared any real confidences.
While Conor was confused, Matt was the picture of understanding.
“We don’t talk about her,” his older brother said after a moment or two. “We’ve never talked about her.”
Gage swallowed hard to dislodge the tennis ball currently clogging his throat.
“Who?” Conor asked.
Matt glanced at their kid brother. Just one look, and Conor got it. Gage knew the second he did, because his little brother’s expression closed down.
He recognized the look because it was as if he was staring at his own reflection in a mirror.
“Shit,” Conor muttered, looking away from them, out the window.
The three of them sat there in silence, and Gage doubted they’d manage to break through these invisible walls they each threw up whenever they were together. Too many years had passed.
After Mom’s death, something that had already been cracked, thanks to their father, shattered completely between them. Matt, who’d been Dad’s shadow until then, pulled away from the family, walking around like a man with a score to settle. His anger grew more muted with time, fading to coldness after Dad’s death. Gage never understood why it was their father’s death that vanquished the fury that never seemed to leave Matt after Mom’s suicide. But vanquish it, it did.
Gage had assuaged his pain with booze and women, using both to keep him so numb, he never felt anything.
As for Conor, who’d only been nineteen when Mom died, he just…disappeared. Into his books. Into his work. Into himself.
“You loved Mom,” Matt said. “You were the closest to her. I knew her death was hard on you, but…”
“I can’t understand why she did it,” Gage confessed. “I’ve never understood it.”
Conor lifted one shoulder, though he still refused to look their direction, avoiding eye contact. “I think we have to accept we’ll never know. She didn’t leave a note, didn’t talk to anyone. All we can do is make assumptions. And what good would that do any of us?”
“Knowing the reason why won’t bring her back,” Matt said with that same finality he used when he didn’t want to discuss something.
Gage’s temper spiked. “It won’t bring her back, but it would help me. I want—I need to know.”
“No, you don’t,” Matt asserted.
“Fuck you, Matt!” Gage yelled, tired of his condescending prick of a brother. “You don’t get to dictate how I feel about this! What if…what if it was my fault?”
Matt reared back in his seat, his face pale. “Why in the hell would you think that?”
“You said it yourself. Mom and I were close. Tight. Right up until I left for college. After that, I didn’t come home very often, didn’t call her as much as I should have. I got too wrapped up in girls, and drinking with my frat brothers, and being an immature jerk. She was estranged from her family after she married Dad. She never felt comfortable around the other women in our social circle. She suffered from depression. We all knew that!”
“She took medication,” Matt said quietly.
“The doctor said she’d stopped taking it before…” Conor’s words fell away.
Matt gave their younger brother a sharp look. “You talked to her doctor?”
Conor nodded. “Yeah, I did.” It was a simple answer, but Gage would guarantee there was a hell of a lot more hiding beneath the surface, and his curiosity was piqued.
So Conor had been seeking an answer too.
“She went off her meds?” Gage asked.
“A few weeks before. Against the doctor’s advice. Told him she didn’t like feeling fuzzy all the time.”
Matt crossed his arms, and Gage could see him shutting it all down. Going rigid with the attempt.
Gage was sick of his stoic, emotionless brother always pretending nothing touched him. “She was isolated, Matt, alone, with just Dad, who was an unfeeling dick on a good day.”
He paused. One of them had to throw out the first olive branch…so he tossed it, opened up about the cancerous feelings that had consumed him since the day Matt called him at college to tell him that Mom was dead. “I should have remembered all of that, I should have been there for her more, should have—”
“Stop,” Matt said, putting his hand up. “Stop right now.”
Gage thought for a moment that Matt was going to stand up, storm out. His older brother held his gaze, cold, distant, and he clearly did not want to have this conversation.
It took ice time to melt. Gage saw the moment it began to.
Matt took a ragged breath, and for just a moment, he laid the pain he was feeling bare for Gage to see. “Mom’s death was not your fault. I didn’t know that you’ve been thinking that all this time. If I’d known, I would have…”
Old habits died hard. Matt had been a controlling bastard for years, and his words touched that sore spot. Gage struck out, hating himself for it even as he did it.
