“Penny!” Dorothy’s voice was almost a squeal as the short brunette hurried into the room. “Oh, hi, Alex.” Her voice had dropped about twenty degrees. “How are you?”
“Quite satisfactory, thank you. Quite satisfactory.” He nodded at Penny. “I’ll be back momentarily.”
She waved slightly. A clap of thunder shook the building, sounding loud even inside the quiet of Sam’s. Maybe they should have canceled this. Or postponed it, anyway.
Dorothy was watching Alex leave with a sour look on her face. “That guy seems to have lost all the spark he had when we were kids. I don’t know what you see in him.”
Penny winced and spread the programs out on a table near the door. Dorothy had started this discussion about six weeks ago and hadn’t let up since. But Penny just wasn’t up to it tonight. Not when she was about to prove that she was every bit as dumb as the world thought.
“He’s very nice,” she said. “I happen to prefer this quieter Alex.”
Dorothy just gave her a look. “Are you still on that themah-I-marry-will-speak-ten-languages kick?”
“Are you still on that I’m-going-to-marry-a-prince-and-livein-a-palace kick?”
But rather than get annoyed, Dorothy just laughed. “Guess neither of us has grown up yet.”
But Penny had. Her ten-language criterion for a husband proved it. She’d outgrown that silly notion of marrying for love about the same time Brad Corrigan had moved away. Good thing he had, too. Who knows what kind of dangerous fantasies she’d still be clinging to if he was around?
And hopefully Dorothy had outgrown her silly ideas, as well. She had happiness staring her in the face if she’d just stop and realize how perfect Tom “Toto” Tollinger was for her. The trouble was, over the years, Dorothy had written her dream in stone. She couldn’t see that a policeman could be a prince and that a walk-up apartment could be a palace, and Toto had let himself be convinced they were just friends.
But Penny was going to change that. Dorothy had been her best friend since fifth grade and Penny was going to make sure Dorothy got that home she’d longed for forever, if it was the last thing Penny did. Well, getting Dorothy settled and herself a spot at that seminar. She wasn’t letting anything stand in her way of achieving either.
“Jeez, there aren’t many people here,” Dorothy observed. Four to be exact. “The only good thing about the evening.”
“Must be the storm,” Dorothy observed.
“Or the threat of my poetry.”
Dorothy just laughed again and dug in her purse. “I brought my camera.” She waved the offensive contraption in Penny’s face. “I’m going to write this up for the Duneland and Debby promised me the front page in next week’s issue.”
“Great. Now everyone who misses me passing out in the punch will still get to see it.”
“You’ve got no reason to gripe. You’re so damned photogenic no matter what you’re doing. I don’t know why you stopped modeling.” Dorothy looked over her shoulder. “Hey, there was a major hunk out in the hallway when I came in. Maybe I should see if he wants to come in.”
“Oh, do. A major hunk is just what this evening is missing.”
Dorothy grinned wickedly. “That’s what I’ve been telling you since you started dating Alex.”
Penny forced a smile and an offhanded laugh, but was inwardly cursing herself. Damn. She had to be careful about what she said if she didn’t want Dorothy to be suspicious.
As if on cue, Alex came back into the room just then, followed by a waitress with a tray of finger foods. Penny gave him a big smile and hurried over to his side. “Everything all set?” she asked and took his arm in hers.
He looked a little surprised but just nodded. “Indeed it is. The fromage and crackers are coming in now and the punch will be ready in a few moments. Still apprehensive?”
“Not with you here,” Penny replied, and ignored the look of nausea Dorothy gave her.
Dorothy wouldn’t understand why she was doing this. None of them would. But then none of them had had to endure the years and years of teasing that she had.
“Penny! Penny! Is this where the poetry reading is?”
Penny turn around to find an elderly couple in the doorway. “Mr. and Mrs. Jamison. What a surprise.”
“We had to come see you,” Mrs. Jamison said as they came into the room. “You’re getting to be quite the star.”
“First on television and now here,” her husband added.
Penny felt her cheeks flush slightly. “Channel 22 always does a promo piece on the Oz festival,” she said. “Anyone on my committee could have answered the questions.”
“But not looking so cute while they did it, I’m sure,” Mrs. Jamison assured her.
Penny just smiled and tried not to feel discouraged. Someday people would praise her brilliance, not her looks.
Alex patted her hand as if he understood. “If this evening goes even half as well as that one did, we’ll be asking for her autograph pretty soon.”
Mrs. Jamison nodded. “Her grandmother is so proud.”
“She told us Penny’s an expert on The Wizard of Oz,” Mr. Jamison said. “And is going to make some kind of speech at a big conference about it.”
The flickering of the lights hopefully kept Penny’s grimace from showing, but it was hard not to groan aloud. Good old Gran. She saw one paper Penny got an A on and was certain Penny was on the dean’s list. Penny mentioned once that she’d sure like to speak at that symposium and her grandmother had her as the keynote speaker. But if that’s what it took to make Gran proud of her, that’s what she was going to get.
“Why isn’t she here?” Mrs. Jamison asked, looking around. “She said she would be.”
Penny shook her head. “Her hip was really bothering her today and I thought she really should stay home, especially with the storm and all.”
“What’s it been? A month since her surgery?” Mr. Jamison asked.
“Just about. Why don’t you sit down over here?” Penny showed the Jamisons to some seats. “I’ll get you some punch, all right?”
She was sure Alex was eyeing her strangely when she came back to the refreshment table. “I didn’t tell my grandmother that,” she whispered. The lights flickered again. Good. Maybe they’d go out and stay out. No, she didn’t really want that.
She needed to perfect these three poems about the allegorical implications of Oz so they could be sent to that literary journal Alex talked about. The abstract of her paper on Oz had been sent to the selection committee already, but he’d said it would help if she had other publications on the subject.
“I never suspected you had,” Alex said and readjusted the program array a fraction of an inch.
She tried not to let Alex’s precision annoy her. “Gran just gets these ideas in her head....” Penny sighed. Gran getting the ideas was one thing; Penny letting her keep them was a whole different issue. “But she’s so damn proud of me, I couldn’t tell her the truth.”
“You’re going to be so proud of me,” she told Brad as they put their coats into their lockers. “I know my verb forms.”
“That’s good,” he mumbled.
“Go ahead, ask me one.”
“I believe you.”
No, he didn’t. She could tell. “Ask me one,” she insisted. “Ask me a hard one.” Infinitive wouldn’t count.
“Past tense of sit,” he said.
She frowned at him. “That’s an easy one. I want a hard one.”
He gave her a look that said she was nuts. She wanted a look of awe and respect. One that said they were equals.
Fine. She would pick for him—the absolute hardest. “Past participle of lie,” she said. “Has laid The book has laid open all day. ” She knew by the look in his eyes that she was wrong. “I mean, have laid. Er, has lay.”
“Has or have lain, ” he said.
“Oh.”
He just stood there, his deep blue eyes filled with pity. He was going to say something nice, something consoling.
Something she hadn’t wanted to hear. It wasn’t going to be how proud he was of her. Nobody was proud of her, not the way Daddy was proud of Thad when he got another honor roll ribbon. Penny just turned and walked into the classroom.
Penny swallowed hard to get past the lump of regret and wistful thinking lodged in her throat, and glared at Alex. “That’s why I hired you,” she whispered sharply and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re going to help me get invited to that symposium and my grandmother’s going to have a real reason to be proud of me.”
“Perchance, Penny.” His voice was low. “We should be exploring other—”
“You don’t think I can do it.”
He shook his head. “Now, now, I never said that, but perhaps studying the allegorical themes of—”
“You want someone else to take that old dead elm down—and maybe your phone and power lines along with it?”
“Penny, we are drawing notice.”
Penny turned slightly and saw that all eyes were on them. Not that there were that many people here, but she didn’t need anybody to get suspicious. The last thing she needed the town to know was that she had hired herself a tutor.
She smiled and tried to turn her jabbing finger into a lover’s pat. “Don’t forget we’ve got a deal,” she whispered, then patted him on the cheek with what she hoped looked like affection. “I have to get the Jamisons some punch.”
She moved over to the punch bowl, with a bright smile that should fool even the most curious of watchers, and filled two cups. Maybe she’d take them a little plate of this cheese spread and some crackers, too.
“Penny!” Dorothy squealed beside her. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”
“A reporter from the Tribune?” Now that would be something.
“No.”
“A camera crew from WNDU?” Too much to hope for, she knew, but... She carefully lifted the cups of punch.
“Turn around.”
Penny turned and came face-to-face with a tall, dark-haired man. A clutch of panic gripped her stomach. His blue eyes were intense, sending shivers right down into her toes.
An all too familiar reaction.
It couldn’t be. He was gone. Gone for good.
“Isn’t this the coolest thing?” Dorothy was gushing.
“Penny?” Brad said.
No, no, no, she wanted to shout.
But suddenly, the building shook. The earth crackled and a roaring explosion deafened them all. Lightning had hit—and close by. Then the lights went out, throwing the room into total darkness.
Chapter Two
It was pitch-black inside the restaurant. Brad Corrigan wasn’t making a sound, but the smell of fruit punch hung heavy in the air. Penny moved the cups in her hand slightly. They were empty. Damn.
“Golly, that was loud,” Dorothy said. “What do you think happened?”
“Just remain calm,” Alex called out from somewhere near the door. “No reason for anyone to panic. Just a little weather mishap, I’m sure.”
That was it, Penny told herself. She’d been startled by the lightning and thunder, not by Brad’s presence. And maybe she hadn’t gotten him with the punch. Maybe she only thought he had been that close to her. She probably had dumped it on the floor. She took a deep breath. “So, what are you—”
Above the general murmur in the darkness, she heard laughter. Laughter that teased at long-sleeping memories. Laughter that tied her heart into knots and did somersaults in her stomach. Brad’s laughter.
Damn it. She was not going to feel that way about him again. She wasn’t twelve anymore. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.
“You sure do keep your promises, don’t you?”
“What? What promises?” Dorothy asked.
Good question. “I have no idea.” Penny knew she sounded stiff and unfriendly but this was supposed to be her big night. She was supposed to discover acclaim for her poetic insight into the journey to Oz, not rediscover an old crush that had been idiotic and juvenile. “You’d think this place would have some emergency lights or something.”
Even as she spoke someone from the restaurant’s staff came in with candles—a mixed blessing. Now she could safely move away. But now she could also see Brad Corrigan right before her. Lean, sharply cut face. Strong nose. Those intense blue eyes.
And a huge, cherry red stain on the front of his shirt.
Good gracious, she had dumped it on him!
“You were always one to keep your word,” Brad was saying. “That’s one of the things I always liked about you.”
One of the things? What hurt was he trying to inflict now? He had never liked anything about her. Good thing it no longer mattered.
“Heavens!” Dorothy cried, gently touching Brad’s stained shirt. “What in the world happened? Are you hurt?” She grabbed up some paper napkins from the table and began to dab at the stain.
The light in the room was pretty bad, Penny admitted, but even in the deep shadows, the punch hardly looked like blood.
“Only Penny keeping her word,” Brad said.
“Penny keeping her word?”
Dorothy looked from Brad to Penny, even as she ministered to the man as if he were on death’s doorstep. Penny had never seen Dorothy that concerned about Toto.
“What is he talking about?” Dorothy asked Penny. “What promise?”
“I have no idea.” She looked down at the empty cups in her hands, then held them out to Dorothy. “Dorothy, could you take these? I really ought to go—”
“Come on, Penny,” Brad cajoled. “Don’t you remember what you said? How if I ever came around here again you’d punch my lights out?” Brad waved down at his shirtfront. ‘Looks like you did. Just a different kind of punch and everybody’s lights, not just mine.”
Dorothy started to laugh. “That’s so funny. I can’t believe you remembered that. It was at Penny’s slumber party, right?” He nodded. “Just before I left town.”
“You remember, don’t you, Penny?” Dorothy asked.
“I guess,” she replied with a shrug. What she did remember was that he’d vowed to come back and make them sorry. Or had he just come back for Dorothy? He had loved her then; maybe he still did. Penny’s mouth was as dry as sand.
“Dorothy, I really need to check with Alex and see what’s going on,” Penny said and shoved the empty punch cups into her friend’s hands. “Will you take care of these?”
“What’s the big deal?” Dorothy asked, but she did stop fussing over Brad to take the cups. “We can just leave them here.” She took two steps over and put them on the refreshment table.
But Penny just smiled at her as if that task had been beyond her ability. “Thanks so much. Want to come with me to talk to the manager?”
Dorothy frowned at her. “No. Not really.”
Penny sighed, biting her lip to keep from snapping at her friend. What did Dorothy think she was doing? How could she just forget about poor Toto like this?
“Why don’t we all go see what’s going on?” Brad took Penny’s arm. “Maybe a show of force will convince the heavens to turn on the power again.”
Dorothy laughed as if she’d never heard such wit. Penny just wished there was some way to make him let go of her. Some way short of making a scene, that is. She didn’t like the way warmth traveled up her skin from his touch. She didn’t want to feel that tingling in her fingertips when his hand moved slightly. And she definitely didn’t want to suddenly find it hard to breathe just because he was back.
“Ah, Penny, there you are,” Alex came over, a frown marring his normally pleasant good looks.
Dare she hope he was going to help her out?
“I just spoke to the manager,” Alex continued. “She said she called the power company and the lightning took out a transformer. They won’t have electricity until sometime after midnight so the bar has to close. Health regulations.”
“Oh, what a shame,” Penny cried and moved away from Brad and over to Alex. “We’re going
to have to postpone this.”
“Yes. Or cancel it all together. I know you wanted to read your poems but I’m not sure we can afford—”
“Let’s not decide now,” she said quickly, putting her hand on his arm. Jeez, he wasn’t thinking at all! She knew they couldn’t afford to wait much longer before sending her poems in to that magazine. But he didn’t have to say so and announce he was her tutor and this was all a plan. “I’m too disappointed to think what to do.”
“You were reading, too?” Brad asked her.
“Yes, I was.”
“Penny was one of the stars tonight,” Alex stated and frowned at Brad. “Have we been introduced?”
“Of course, Alex,” Dorothy said. She took Brad’s arm, pulling him close to her. “You remember Brad Corrigan. He used to live in Chesterton.”
“Certainly.” Alex sounded much more gracious than Penny felt as he offered Brad his hand. “How good to see you again. Have a little mishap with the punch?”
“Just a slight one,” Brad replied as the men shook hands.
Alex seemed friendly but Penny sensed a wariness on Brad’s part. Or was it just a physical awkwardness since he had Dorothy hanging on him and was drenched in punch?
Alex eased himself away from Penny with a regretful nod. “I’ll just announce the bad news and then we might as well go.”
“All right—” she caught Brad watching her strangely “—honey,” she called after Alex quickly, hoping it sounded even half-natural.
“So, what are you doing here?” Dorothy asked Brad. “You back to stay?”
“Heck, no,” Brad said. “Just here for a brief visit.”
If he was going to add more, he didn’t have the chance as the Jamisons and the few others who had come for the reading began to leave.
“What a shame,” Mrs. Jamison consoled Penny and gave her a hug.
“You let us know when you’re doing it again,” Mr. Jamison said.
They left, led by the waitress with a flashlight and followed by the other guests. Silence reigned loud and long in the little candlelit meeting room. Penny didn’t know if it was just disappointment at having her evening canceled or worry over Dorothy’s apparent fascination with Brad, but she was suddenly exhausted.
If I Only Had A...Husband (The Bridal Circle #1) Page 3