Losing Penny

by Kristy Tate

  Wolfgang rushed in.

  Chapter 46

  Social and familial relationships are just as important to health as other common risk factors like smoking, lack of exercise, or obesity.

  From Losing Penny and Pounds

  Richard puffed out his chest and narrowed his eyes. He reminded Penny of a long ago afternoon spent in Los Angeles’ Fashion District when they shopped for a dress for her middle school graduation. The crowded alleyway pulsed with people. Music blared from overhead speakers and the air smelled of fried foods and cigarettes.

  After Richard had barked one too many threats of kidnappers and rapists, Penny had asked, “Why are you trying to scare me?”

  “Because you’re not sufficiently scared!” he had yelled. Nearly twenty years later, he wore the same expression. Most of his hostility was focused on Drake, but his eyes flicked to Wolfgang. The dog stood erect, with his head lowered and his tail pointing straight behind him. His vicious stance made him both terrible and beautiful. The fur on the back of his neck rose into a Mohawk, and he barked in rapid, noisy succession.

  “What’s that?” Richard asked.

  “That is Wolfgang,” Drake said.

  “And who are you?”

  Finding it interesting that Richard was more curious about the dog than in Drake, Penny made introductions. Maybe Richard thought Drake was a drive-by and not worth knowing, where as the dog might be around a lot longer. Well, that was probably true, wasn’t it? Her relationship with Wolfgang probably would out last her relationship with Drake. She knew that.

  “Can’t you make that dog be quiet?” Richard asked Drake.

  Drake pulled a doggie treat from his pocket and used it to lure the dog outside.

  “What’s he doing here?” Richard asked as soon as Drake was out of earshot.

  Penny folded her arms. “The dog?”

  “No, the guy.” Richard raked his fingers through his hair.

  “Better question—what are you doing here?” Her voice sounded light, but it had a tinge of nervousness that Richard probably noticed. She cleared her throat, sat down on the sofa, and glared at her brother.

  He met her glare and added toe tapping. “Aren’t you supposed to be in India by now?”

  “Are you suggesting that India is safer than Rose Arbor?”

  Richard’s gaze ran over Drake who slunk back into the room. “Maybe.”

  “What dragged you out of Alaska?”

  Richard settled into the wingback chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Rose.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Penny softened her voice and her gaze flicked to Drake who was leaning in the doorway.

  Richard nodded at Drake. “Do you want to talk about him?”

  Penny fought the temptation to stamp her feet. “I’m thirty-three years old. You’re embarrassing me and yourself.”

  Richard rose from his chair with his finger pointed at her. “You lost the right to feel embarrassment or anything other than blinding stupidity the moment you moved into this beach house with a stranger.” He stepped closer, his voice softening. “Why didn’t you tell me about the stalker?”

  Penny threw her hands into the air. “Because I knew you would do this!”

  “This?”

  “Yes! You’d make it into a great big deal!” She waved her hands in the air to encompass the great big deal.

  Richard harrumphed and paced across the room. “Oh, and for you it’s not a big deal? It’s so not a big deal that you created an elaborate charade and pretended to travel the world?”

  “Why was it okay for me to travel the world alone, but not okay for me to stay at the beach house?”

  “You were supposed to travel with Phoebe, and I knew the hotels and your itinerary.”

  Understanding dawned and she unfolded from the sofa to stand in front of him with her finger pointed in his face. “You’re not just mad that I came here on my own. You’re mad that I didn’t tell you and that I didn’t ask for your permission.”

  “You don’t need my permission.”

  “Exactly.”

  Richard’s lips twitched with a slow smile. “So we agree.”

  “That I don’t need your permission?”

  “And that you need a safe place to live.”

  “I guess,” Penny said slowly.

  “A place in a high-security building.”

  “High-security?” Penny echoed.

  Richard lifted his finger, signaling for her to wait. “We’ll solve this right now.” He banged out the front door.

  Penny turned to Drake. “My brother.”

  Drake moved toward her as if to take her into his arms, but she stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Don’t get too close. You don’t want to meet the hyper-protective brother.”

  Drake stood still in the middle of the room. “I thought we were all ready introduced.”

  “Oh no,” Penny said with a look over her shoulder. “The guy you just met was relatively polite. The hyper-protective brother is a maniac.” Penny’s eyes widened as Richard returned with a black leather box. Her head felt float-away light.

  Drake’s eyes narrowed as he watched Richard enter the house. “What is that?” he asked.

  “Guns,” Penny told him, her voice heavy and deep.

  Chapter 47

  Hans lay awake that night counting the stars. Even though he was far away, he found comfort in the thought that the same moon that cast its beams on him also smiled on Ingrid. Then his mother’s muffled cries came from the other side of the stone wall.

  From Hans and the Sunstone

  What was this, showdown at the O.K. Corral? Drake’s thoughts raced as Richard laid his box down on the mantle.

  “That’s not going to work with me anymore,” Penny said, as if toting guns was standard practice.

  Richard smiled. “I thought you might need persuading.”

  What does that mean? Is he going to shoot off her toes unless she willingly—what? Why had he come? How could his actual presence have any more influence over a phone call? Unless he planned on throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her back to New York.

  “Go and put those away,” Penny said. “We’re not kids anymore.”

  Drake watched in horrified fascination as Richard drew out one shiny pistol. He held it by the barrel and handed it to his sister.

  “You know I prefer the Beretta,” Penny told him.

  Richard lifted an eyebrow and brought out another gun. “Ready?”

  Penny’s shoulders slumped. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “Look, you’re right,” Richard said, frowning as he checked the safety. “I can’t make you come to New York with me, even though I found you a great apartment in my building.”

  “You did?” Penny asked.

  Richard nodded. “Complete with a doorman.”

  “Does he carry a gun too?” Drake asked. He closed his mouth and pressed his lips into a straight line when Richard glared at him.

  Someone knocked on the door. Drake stood, but Richard shot him a move-and-die look. Drake eased back into his chair. Penny glared at her brother and he stared right back. Penny touched her forehead with her fingertips and moved toward the door.

  Trevor stood in the bright morning light, looking like a J. Crew ad.

  “Who’s this?” Richard asked, waving his gun at him.

  “Trevor Marx.” Trevor stuck out his hand and Richard took it, watching Trevor the way a dog watches a squirrel. “What’s going on? Is this like a shoot out?”

  “Richard is Penny’s brother. In their family, they solve their differences with guns,” Drake told Trevor.

  “Wow. Why didn’t I think of that? It’s not legal though, right? I can’t just shoot my sister?”

  “We don’t shoot each other,” Penny said.

  “As much as we might want to,” Richard said. “Who are you?”

  “Trevor is a friend,” Penny clarified. “We’re all just friends, here.”

&nbs
p; “Is that true?” Richard asked, his eyes on Drake.

  “Well, actually,” Trevor began. “We all thought Maggie—I mean Penny—was married to Drake.”

  “What?” A vein on the side of Richard’s neck pulsed.

  “That was yesterday, before the cooking goddess scandal,” Trevor continued. He turned his attention to Drake. “So glad you haven’t left yet.”

  “You’re leaving?” Richard asked.

  Drake gave a short, brief nod, and it felt like a punch to his gut. He watched Penny’s face turn white with the news. But she slowly straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. Drake turned to see what Penny saw: Melinda.

  “And who’s this?” Richard asked, taking in Melinda’s jewel-toned jeans and camisole top.

  “His sister.” Drake jerked his head at Trevor.

  Trevor’s wide-eyed gaze went back and forth between Richard and Penny. “Huh, maybe it’d be safer if Penny wasn’t holding a gun around Melinda.”

  “Why is that?” Richard asked.

  “She may be the one who leaked Penny’s whereabouts.”

  Penny’s grip tightened on the gun. “Just may be?”

  Trevor blanched. “Okay, she did it, but she’s coming to say she’s sorry, so that should mean something, right?” He turned to Drake. “Really, what’s with the guns?”

  Drake just shook his head.

  When Melinda walked through the door, her eyes widened when she saw the pistol dangling from Penny’s fingers.

  “Is that loaded?” Melinda asked.

  Penny flipped the gun over, considering it. “Why, yes it is.”

  “I’ve come to apologize,” Melinda blurted out.

  Richard barked a short laugh. “Ah, the power of a handgun.” He strode through the kitchen and into the built-in porch. After a curious glance at Drake’s tightly made bed, he pushed through the back door. It banged behind him.

  “No,” Melinda said, “My apology has nothing to do with the…why are you holding a gun anyway?”

  Penny shrugged and sighed. “It’s a brother sister thing.”

  Trevor and Melinda looked at each other. “You settle your arguments with weapons?” Melinda asked.

  “Some siblings pull hair, we use target practice,” Penny said. “The best shot wins. But maybe I should shoot you. You’ve probably ruined my career.”

  “I said I was sorry.” Melinda pouted.

  “Did you really come over to apologize?” Drake asked.

  “Sure. Why is that so hard to believe?” Melinda jutted out her chin.

  Richard poked his head through the back door. “Penny, I’ve got the targets set up.”

  Penny stomped outside and Drake followed. He had to see this.

  “Guns aren’t going to settle this,” Penny said.

  Richard smiled and handed his sister pair of earplugs. “If you win, I won’t Watchdog you ever again.”

  Penny stood stock-still. “Seriously? Because you’ve made that promise before.”

  “But I didn’t mean it before,” Richard said.

  “How can I trust you? How do I know you mean it now?”

  “I won’t ever Watchdog you again, and you don’t have to pay me for the television studio I set up in New York.”

  “You set up a studio for me in New York?”

  “You’ll love the apartment—Rose picked it out. Crown molding, granite counters in the kitchen…a Viking stove.”

  “A Viking stove?” Penny echoed.

  It looked to Drake as if Richard had won long before the actual shooting even began. He wanted to jump in to offer Penny a bigger and better Viking, but his offer would only be a work of fiction. After all—he knew Vikings, he’d lived and breathed Vikings—but Penny’s coveted stove had nothing to do with the Vikings on ships. Just as he, really, had nothing to do with Penny. She belonged in a world of doormen and gourmet stoves, and Drake couldn’t give that to her. His Vikings belonged to another century.

  All Drake could do was watch Penny and mourn a love that almost was. Rather than the typical red and white circular targets or the black and white human silhouettes he had seen on TV police procedurals, Richard had pinned up cartoon caricatures of bulls on two trees in the backyard. Now that he knew what to look for, Drake saw that the trees were riddled with pocks from past shoot-outs. It bothered him that Penny and Richard had been using firearms to solve their problems, because he didn’t have even one little bit of ammo.

  Melinda stood at his elbow, her face close to his. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the gunshots.

  Bull’s-eye for Richard.

  “…donkey basketball.” Melinda looked at him with eager, hopeful eyes, but the two words he heard didn’t make sense coming from Melinda.

  “If you’ll play—”

  Boom. Penny, outer rim.

  “I’ll send Geared! to press as is,” Melinda continued. “But if not,…well there’s probably a whole lot of revisions that needs to be done. Hours and hours of rewriting.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm. “I’ll monopolize the remainder of your summer.”

  Blackmail. Drake looked down into her warm brown eyes. If he could love Melinda his life would be easier in so many ways. She would share her trust fund, but he’d spend the rest of his life in and out of Don Marx’s golf cart. A tremor went down his spine.

  “Let me get this straight,” Drake said. “If I play basketball with donkeys, you’ll accept Geared! as is.”

  Melinda laughed, delighted. “You don’t play basketball with the donkeys—” A confused look chased across her face. “Well, maybe you do. I think I’ll need to watch it to get it.”

  “Why?” Drake asked.

  “Because the whole donkey basketball thing is hard to picture.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Why do you want me to play basketball with donkeys?”

  Melinda got a dreamy, mysterious look in her eye. “Will you do it or not?”

  “I win!” Richard boomed. He set down his pistol and strode across the lawn to the bull targets.

  Penny just raised her eyebrows. “I told you, this isn’t going to settle anything.”

  “You wouldn’t have said that if you had won,” Richard said.

  Penny shrugged and turned to Drake.

  He smiled at her and said the inconceivable, “I’m going to play donkey basketball. Do you want to watch?”

  Chapter 48

  Animals are good for your health. Caring for a pet can help lower blood pressure, lessen anxiety, boost your immunity, and ease loneliness.

  From Losing Penny and Pounds

  The orange and purple lights hanging from the tents cast a surreal glow in the dwindling daylight. A light wind toyed with Penny’s hat. A few people stared at her, as if trying to see the real Penny behind the sunglasses, but most concerned themselves with weightier matters like the pie eating contest, the egg toss, or the three-legged race.

  “Remember, our flight leaves at eight,” Richard told her, looking at his watch.

  “I just want to say goodbye,” Penny said, her thoughts jumbled. Moving into Richard’s high-security pent house made sense. He had solved her problem so simply, so easily, just like he had been doing her entire life. Moving to New York would turn her whole life on its ear, but she would still be near Richard, and hopefully Rose, and she would be safe in a pet friendly, high-security building in a way that she could never be in her apartment that overlooked the canyon.

  The band on the pavilion finished their poor imitation of The Beach Boys, and a booming female announced that “the contestants” needed to line up behind the snow cone machine.

  Penny pulled her hat a bit lower and adjusted her sunglasses, but she still felt conspicuous. According to Andrea, it didn’t take much to make big news in a small town, and even she had to admit a disguised cooking show hostess was more interesting than a chili cook-off winner.

  “I don’t even know these people, but I’m going to miss them,” Penny told Richard
as they headed toward the sound of crunching ice. “Isn’t that strange? I don’t know them, but I want to know them.” She realized with a pang that she wanted to belong in Rose Arbor. She didn’t want to belong in a penthouse in Richard’s building. “Tell me about the apartment again.”

  Richard rattled off a long and detailed list of amenities, but Penny knew that for her brother, the apartment’s biggest selling feature was its location. And an ideal location for Richard meant proximity to her.

  She spotted Drake and Trevor rounding the corner with helmets tucked under their arms. Richard stiffened, and jerked his head in their direction.

  “Penny!” Andrea called and waved from across the green.

  “My friend, Andrea,” Penny said to Richard as she returned the wave. “She owns the Bluebird Café, one of the two restaurants in town.”

  When Andrea caught up to them she said, “It feels so strange to call you that. Maggie suited you.”

  “Well, I’m really Penny, and this is my brother, Richard.”

  Richard nodded at Andrea and she smiled up at him. “Are you going to the donkey basketball game?”

  “It’s pretty hard to say goodbye if Drake is sitting on a donkey,” Penny said to Richard.

  “Maybe it will be easier.” Richard looked at his watch. “Okay, I’ll pick you up in two hours. Keep your phone on.”

  Andrea watched Richard walk away. “Your brother doesn’t like donkey basketball?”

  “Or Drake. In fact, he really doesn’t like people, which is crazy. He should be moving to Montana or Nebraska, not New York City.”

  Andrea cocked her head. “Then why is he?”

  “The power of love, I guess. His fiancée, or his ex-fiancée—I’m not sure which since he won’t talk about her—is moving to New York. She’s a fashion designer.”

  Penny worried a hangnail on her thumb while she followed Andrea toward the high school. This summer had been like all the other summers she’d spent at the beach house—an interlude in her real life. Real life meant Richard, Rose, Aunt Mae, her blog, her cookbook, and her show. Penny’s stomach twisted. She would miss Drake. She liked having him around. She liked kissing him. No, she loved kissing him, and she wasn’t sure what that meant. She needed more time with Drake to find out.