by K. A. Linde
Katherine must not have even looked at the guest list. Or the seating chart. Because my name was even printed on the card in sweeping gold letters. Right between Penn and Lewis.
I hesitated before stepping forward. I swallowed back my rising unease about coming here. It’d be so easy to turn around and walk out the door. Instead, I pulled my chair out and took a seat.
The table was silent. Everyone waiting for someone else to make a move. The other five people were oblivious to what was going on. Though I had no idea how they couldn’t feel the tension in the moment.
“Uh,” Rowe said, leaning forward on an elbow, “this is awkward, right? I’m not making this up?”
Lewis snorted. “Social cues.”
I cracked a smile. Rowe sure knew how to cut the tension even if he was just pointing out the obvious.
“Where’s your date?” I asked, gesturing to the empty seat at Penn’s side.
His blue eyes gazed back into mine, as if to say, That would be you. Instead, he said, “I never RSVP’d. Katherine just assumed.”
“Oh.”
“And you couldn’t ask one of the many beautiful women you’ve been seen with?” Lewis asked, leaning forward. “Who was that one brunette you were with all the time? Shelly?”
“Chelle is my teaching assistant,” Penn ground out.
“Yeah. Nothing going on with her?”
“That would be unethical.” His response was dead and flat.
Lewis shrugged. “Never stopped you before.”
“So,” I interjected at that. I shot Lewis a look of distress. “How about this place? Really something.”
“You’ve seen one wedding in the Grand Ballroom, you’ve seen them all,” the woman to Rowe’s left said to me. She was a standard unit of buxom blonde model. The kind Rowe tended to favor. “But your dress is gorgeous. I saw that at Bergdorf and am kicking myself for not trying it on.”
“Seconded,” said one of the other women at the table. “So jealous.”
I blinked, surprised by the attention. I’d loved the purple off-the-shoulder dress with its old Hollywood feel. The way it’d hugged everything while still looking classy and sophisticated. I hadn’t expected people to be jealous of it.
“Thank you,” I said.
Luckily, the rest of the table kept a steady stream of conversation while the crew sat around, silent. It was almost sad, considering how I’d seen them the first time. How well they knew each other. But also, how easy the banter had been between them. I hadn’t known then that it was bred from lies and secrets and loyalty, not just love. But to see that kind of friendship splintered was upsetting.
Even if it was their own fault. With the stupid bet. It was still sad. A bit like seeing a family fall apart.
Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait too long for Katherine and Camden to show up. They walked gracefully into the room together as they were announced as Mr. and Mrs. Camden Percy. From the look on Katherine’s face, that must have stung. The wedding party took up their seats at the front of the room, and then dinner was served.
I was damn well ready to leave as soon as we possibly could at this point. Being seated between Penn and Lewis was bad enough. But the anger that they kept venting at each other was something else entirely. I’d seen them together any number of times…even since Lewis and I’d started dating, and they hadn’t been like this. Something must have happened, but I didn’t know what.
I was digging into my dessert when I heard Rowe’s date talking to the other woman who had complimented my dress. My head tilted up, and I strained to see if what I’d thought I’d heard was true.
“And this is a book?” the second woman asked.
Rowe’s date nodded. “It’s insane. Told like a total insider, Jana.”
“Seriously, Michelle? You think someone from the Upper East wrote it?”
“Has to be. No other explanation.”
“I’ve never even heard of it. Tell me the name again.”
“Oh, let me pull it up on my phone.”
My mouth went dry as I waited…and waited.
“Here it is. Bet on It by Olivia Davies.” Michelle pushed the phone in front of Jana’s face.
Which was good because mine had gone pale as a ghost. They were talking about my book. Holy fuck! They were talking about my book on the Upper East Side. Trying to figure out who in the inside circle had written it. Oh god. I’d never imagined.
“It’s so juicy, Jana. And I have thoughts on who I think the characters are based on.”
“You’ve convinced me. I’m going to go get my copy now.” She’d already pulled up her phone to purchase it.
“I need to know who you think Emerson is. She’s a real heinous bitch. I can think of a dozen of us without a blink,” she said with a laugh.
“Heinous bitch is like Upper East Side MO.”
“Totally. I bet it’s Candice. No one is as nasty as her. You’re going to have to tell me who you think it is when you read it.”
“Oh, I will.”
“But Luke.” Jana fanned herself. Unknowingly getting hot and bothered at the thought of Penn sitting only three seats down from her. “He’s so fucking sexy. Don’t blame any of them for fighting for that man.”
“Fictional men are just so much better.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to get out of there. Away from this conversation. When I’d written that book, I hadn’t thought about the Upper East Side reading it and speculating. But I should have.
I pulled out my own phone and texted Amy our signal on shaky hands.
Okay???
Lewis put his hand on mine. “Don’t worry about it. They’re not going to put it together,” he whispered.
“Let’s hope not.”
Thankfully, with dessert over, the rest of the plates were cleared, and the party began. Penn immediately disappeared from our table, as if standing in our presence for that long had been real torture.
I grabbed my small bag and followed Lewis toward the dance floor, carefully avoiding both Michelle and Jana. Katherine and Camden were waltzing to their first dance and were soon joined by the rest of the party. I swayed with Lewis, resting my head on his shoulder.
“What if they figure it out?” I asked.
“They won’t. It’s fine. I read it. It could be any number of people. It wasn’t like you made the main characters the mayor’s son and a girl whose dad is in prison for securities fraud. You fictionalized it. Unless they were there, they’re not going to know.”
He was right. I’d made it unrecognizable from what had really happened and who the people were. But still…
A few dances in, my phone started ringing. I glanced down at it and saw Amy’s number appear.
“I have to take this,” I said with faux concern. “Amy knows I’m here. She wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
“Yeah, of course. Go ahead. I’m going to get another drink.”
I nodded at him and then beelined for the exit. I felt a twinge of regret at the slight deception as I answered the phone.
“Hey, Amy.”
“Phew, I haven’t done that in so long. Wedding not so great after all?” Amy drawled into the phone.
“It’s been horrible, honestly. I’m so ready to leave.”
“Well, you must be if you’re on the phone with me after you signaled the save me from my date message.”
I laughed. “It was the only way I could think to get away from these two women who were discussing who they thought wrote Bet on It and were the main characters in my book.”
Amy gasped. “So cool!”
“Not exactly. I don’t want them to know!”
Amy laughed as I eased into an empty alcove near the entrance to the party. It felt like I could finally breathe again, away from the limelight.
“What did you decide to do about your boy?”
“Well, I’m here with him,” I said.
“Real convincing, Nat. You’re not naive. Are you going
to be able to forgive him for what he did?”
I sighed and tilted my head back. “I’m trying. It’s still soon after what he did. Let me get through this wedding and then Christmas. I’ll be better when I come back for New Year’s.”
“I cannot fucking wait for you to get here for Christmas. We are going to do all the things. All of them.”
I laughed. “Well, thank god.”
Amy continued rambling about all the things she had planned for us for Christmas, but my eyes locked on a figure moving toward me. Penn stopped a foot away, and I cleared my throat to interrupt Amy.
“Hey, Ames. I have to get back.”
“Right. Right. Okay. Text if you need another excuse to get away.”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“You, too. Bye, babe.”
I hung up the phone and met Penn’s penetrating gaze.
“We need to talk,” he said.
I sighed. “Why? Why do we always have to talk? Can’t we get through an evening without talking?”
He just smirked, as if imagining all the evenings we’d done just that. But he was smirking into his cell phone and then handed it to me. I took it in surprise.
“What’s this?”
“Just look.”
My eyes skimmed the page, and suddenly, I pushed off of the wall, straightening in shock. My stomach plummeting. My hands shaking. I was going to be sick. I was staring at the first page of my new manuscript, It’s a Matter of Opinion. The manuscript no one had seen but me, Caroline, and Gillian.
“How the fuck do you have this?” I hissed.
“That’s what we need to talk about,” he said calmly.
“Tell me right the fuck now, Penn. This isn’t a joke.”
“I know it’s not. Let’s go somewhere private. I don’t think we should do this where people can see us. They might…notice.”
My hand clenched on his phone. I needed answers. I needed answers right the fuck now. And if that meant five minutes alone with Penn Kensington, then fuck it.
“I don’t know how we’re supposed to get alone.”
“We could go outside.”
I shook my head. “It’s too cold.”
A devilish grin spread across his face. “I have an idea.”
“What?” I snapped.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I don’t like that you have that fucking manuscript on your phone either, but here we are. Tell me.”
“You have a hotel room?”
I sighed and then withdrew the small plastic key from the purse at my hip.
He plucked it from my hand. “That’ll do.”
“I don’t even know what room it is,” I objected.
He laughed. “Lewis always gets the same room.”
“This had better not be a fucking trick,” I snapped at him.
He sobered immediately. That laugh disappearing, only to be replaced with regret. “It’s not a trick. Honestly, I wish it were. It’d be easier than this explanation.”
His words washed over me. This wasn’t a joke with him. It wasn’t some deception to get me into a hotel room. Good. Because I didn’t find any of this particularly funny. And going up to the room with Penn was pretty stupid. But the only thing on my mind was that goddamn manuscript.
So, I finally nodded. “Five minutes, Penn.”
Natalie
35
Pure, unfiltered adrenaline pushed me into the elevator. Penn didn’t even hesitate when he strode out onto the fourth floor. He’d clearly been here before. More than once. But I could hardly concentrate on that fact. There was a roaring in my ears that wouldn’t abate. And a sinking pit in my stomach, saying that whatever he was about to tell me would wreck me.
Still, I went.
I followed him down the hallway to a doorway. He pressed the key to the lock, and I waited. Hoped for a minute that he was wrong. That Lewis had never had this room before. But then the lock clicked, and Penn pushed the door open. My heart sank even further.
“How did you know it would work?”
“We used to come here for parties in high school. Get trashed and then stay here instead of at our parents’ respective houses. They used to keep this room on standby for us.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
Penn pushed the door open, stepped inside, and whistled low. I followed him inside to see why he’d done it. The room was pure romance. Hundreds of unlit candles covered nearly every flat surface. A bottle of expensive champagne chilled in a bucket near the balcony, next to a bouquet of red roses. Rose petals trailed off and out of sight.
I set my purse down on the chair before following the petals around the corner. They revealed the bedroom with its own elaborate decorations, including a king-size bed covered in deep red rose petals.
He’d thought this was our reset? He’d thought romancing me would make me feel better that he’d lied to me?
I shook my head at the ostentatious display. This might have been romantic in another scenario, if he’d done it just because instead of to make up for what he’d done wrong. But all I saw was him throwing money at a problem.
“Well, well, well, how romantic,” Penn droned sarcastically.
I tore myself away from the sight before me. We weren’t up here to look at the room. We were up here because I wanted to know how the fuck Penn had my manuscript on his phone.
“Tell me.”
Penn handed the phone back to me. It was open to a different page. I didn’t know what I was looking at. It looked like a file with a bunch of documents. I scrolled, seeing all three of my unfinished manuscripts.
“My books! What the fuck?”
“Keep scrolling. It gets worse.”
I narrowed my eyes and then kept looking. I found a slew of emails, a press release, some business documents for property, some videos, and pictures. A lot of pictures.
“Oh my god, these are pictures of me in Charleston,” I whispered. “When I was out at the beach with Amy. What the hell?” My eyes jumped to Penn’s in distress. “Where did you get all of this?”
“That’s Lewis’s file on you.”
My eyebrows rose sharply. “His file on me? What the hell does that mean?”
“As long as I’ve known Lewis, he has kept a file on his obsessions, especially of the female variety. I’ve seen them in the past. A list of his…accomplishments of sorts.”
“And this is mine?” I shook my head in shock. I was seriously disturbed. Some of this information was private, some was creepy to the max, and some I didn’t even fully grasp what it was. “What the hell is all of this?”
“It has the manuscripts he lifted from the publishing company.”
“Excuse me?” I hissed.
“Yep. Looks like he took them from your submission. Plus, the emails to Warren about the money increase, emails forcing them to bring you out, and getting Club 360 on board for your party.”
I hissed through my teeth. “He didn’t.”
“That’s not all.” He snatched the phone back, scrolling through the file he must have already gone through. “This is a deed to your building. He bought it around the time that you decided to move here.”
My eyes widened in shock. I didn’t even know what to say.
“This is the video footage from the surveillance cameras in your building. Oh, and all the pictures from Charleston that he probably had a private eye collect for him. Among other miscellaneous things, like a few receipts from various boutiques and—oh, yeah, this Harry Winston receipt for half a million dollars.”
I was speechless. Utterly speechless. I didn’t even know where to begin.
“Half a million dollars,” I gasped. “What the hell is he buying for half a million dollars?”
Penn’s gaze swept to mine. Anger—blistering, hot anger—seeped from them. “You can’t guess?”
My hand went to my mouth. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, I saw it.”
I blinked and then blinked again. I didn
’t even know how to process all this information. The lies. The betrayal. The…stalking. He hadn’t just orchestrated a way for us to be together. He had done things I would have never been able to think of.
Buying my building? Why?
Video surveillance and a private eye? What the actual fuck?
“This is…insane,” I gasped. “I mean, I asked him point-blank if there was anything else, and he owned up to the emails to bring me out. He said that was it.”
Penn frowned. “He gave you one truth to keep you from looking for the rest.”
“You told me,” I muttered, realization washing over me. “You said there’s always more. You were right.”
His hand softly came down onto my arm. Comforting. Just a light touch to say he was here. “I really hoped that I wouldn’t find it. To spare you.”
“How exactly did you get this?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “I kind of broke into his apartment.”
“You did what?” I gasped. I stumbled back a step.
“Okay, look, it isn’t as bad as it sounds.” He held his hands up as if he was worried that he’d scare me away. “I went to see him after you came to my apartment this week. I thought it was all a fucking game with him, and then he told me he was actually serious. Showed me the fucking ring. I wanted to believe him, Nat. But I just…didn’t. I’ve known him too fucking long.”
“So, you thought breaking into his apartment was the right move?” I asked hysterically.
“No. Of course not. I told myself that, if he loved you and wanted to do right by you…if you weren’t another one of his fascinations, then he wouldn’t have a file. He’d treat you like the incredible woman that you are. I told myself I would go to his apartment and see if he had one, and if he didn’t, I’d bow out. I’d fucking get a job somewhere else and leave you two to the Upper East Side.”
My heart stopped at those words. “You would have left?”
“For you to be happy?” he asked softly. “Yes. And also because I couldn’t have endured watching it.”
“So…you went looking for the file.”