He’d done the right thing. Penny needed to be protected.
So why did he feel so guilty?
Chapter 9
Penny sat up in bed, unsure of what had awakened her. Must have been a noise of some sort. Maybe Harrison was snoring. She peered over into the darkness. The recliner sat empty, the blanket he had been using draped across the arm. The bathroom door was open, the light off. Where was he? She looked at the clock. One-thirty.
Her stomach growled, and she slid out of bed. Harrison had probably gone down to the kitchen to get something to eat, which sounded like a good idea to her. She grabbed her phone and used it as a flashlight, sneaking through the house until she saw the kitchen light shining under the door.
She figured she’d see Harrison in there. What she didn’t expect was to find him at the counter, apron on, furiously chopping onions on a cutting board.
“What are you—”
He turned with a start, knife pointed at her, eyes wide.
“Whoa. Put that thing down.”
“Sorry, you startled me.” He lowered the knife. “I thought you were Patrice.”
“I can see why you’d want a knife in that case.”
His deep laugh filled the room, making her smile. He turned back to his chopping. “What are you doing up?”
She crossed the room to stand beside him. “Woke up hungry. That raw fish stuff was fine, but not very filling.”
He made a face. “Yeah.”
Several small glass bowls sat in front of him, various chopped items in them. A skillet and a carton of eggs sat on the stove. “Omelets?”
He grinned. “I watched Chef Ramsey make an omelet on Food Network the other day. I’ve been craving them ever since.”
Penny’s mouth dropped. “You watch Food Network?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Sometimes.”
She stared at him. “You’re a foodie.”
“A what? No I’m not.” He pulled a package of pepperoni out of the fridge.
“Yes, you are. Just look at you, all dolled up in an apron, chopping up all kinds of crazy things to put in your omelet. You’re grinning like a twelve year old whose fart got blamed on his sister.”
He laughed, the warm, richness of it washing over her. “You’re insane.”
“Deny it all you want. You, my dear, are a foodie.”
He shook his head and continued to chop the remaining slices of pepperoni. “You want one?”
“Sure.”
He cracked eggs into a separator and began whipping the whites. As he worked, she studied him. He seemed so much more relaxed, like he was in his element. He carried a hint of a smile, and he handled the spatula in a natural way, like he’d been doing it forever. If he opened up a restaurant he’d have a blast with it. She slid onto a stool at the built-in bar.
He pulled two plates from the cupboard and flipped an omelet onto one and handed it to her. She picked up her fork and cut into it. The eggs were fluffy and melted in her mouth. “This is delicious.”
His smile widened, but he didn’t say anything. The silence was comfortable, though, and when he was done making his omelet he sat beside her and ate.
“What made you think to put pepperoni in here? It adds the perfect zing to it.”
He shrugged. “Just thought it would be good.”
“Well, it is. You have great instinct.” A blush crept up his neck and Penny held in a laugh.
“I actually wanted to go to culinary school instead of business school.”
“Really?” Penny was stunned. “You’d be an awesome chef. Why didn’t you?”
“Because,” said a cold voice behind them.
Penny whipped around to see Patrice standing there, her arms folded across her chest.
“No son of mine is going to become a cook.” She spat the word, like it tasted bitter on her tongue.
Harrison sighed and turned to face her. “Hello, Mother.”
Blood colored Patrice’s cheeks, and she glared at them. “Clean up this mess when you’re done. I don’t want the staff spreading rumors about you.”
Penny sprang from her stool, unable to hold it in any longer. “Rumors? Because he got hungry and made an omelet?”
Patrice took two steps back, her nightgown flowing around her ankles. “Penelope—”
“It’s Penny!” It came out a little more forceful than she’d meant, but it did the job. Patrice blinked and then started again.
“Penny, I’m sure you grew up in a very different environment, so these things would be difficult to understand.”
“Oh, I understand just fine. You’ve mistakenly equated money and status with happiness.”
Patrice clicked her tongue and frowned. “It’s so simple to you, isn’t it?” Her tone dripped of condescension. “Life doesn’t work that way. You see, Harrison must keep up certain appearances in order for people to have confidence in Harrison Williams Investment Group. Without investments, the company goes under, and we go under along with it.” She looked down her nose. “You might imagine our money sitting in a bank, easy to access, just waiting for us to spend it. You’d be wrong. We are worth billions because of Harrison Williams Investment Group. Without the business, we have nothing.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Harrison said.
“And don’t you let this floozy fill your head with nonsense. You know your duty.”
“Stop! That’s enough. I will not allow you to insult her. It was just a question. She didn’t mean anything by it.”
Patrice smiled, which looked rather scary on her. “Of course.” She stared at Penny for a moment before she turned and padded out of the kitchen. “Have a good night.”
When Penny was sure she was gone, she sank back onto her stool. “Man, she is awful. How do you stand it?”
Harrison broke out into a grin. “I just imagine her head as a giant hot air balloon.”
A laugh bubbled up. “She looked like a ripe tomato tonight.” Penny blew out her cheeks and held her breath.
“You do a great impression of her.”
Penny blew out her breath and turned serious. She ran the tips of her fingers along the edge of the counter. “Is the company in trouble?”
Harrison shook his head. “No.”
“Then why is she so uptight about it?”
“I don’t think she’s really worried about the business. She thinks the culinary arts are beneath me.” He picked up their empty plates and took them to the sink.
Penny hopped off her stool and picked up the little glass bowls, setting them in the sink as well. “I don’t understand. There are many famous chefs out there making a decent living.”
“Cooking for other people. It’s a service profession.” He turned on the faucet and pushed the stopper in.
“So is making investments for people, right? You have customers. You have to make them happy.”
He frowned. “She doesn’t see it that way.”
As they finished the dishes, Penny grew sad for him. He was stuck in a job he didn’t like, building a business he didn’t care about, all for money that wasn’t making him happy. If only he could see how this was sucking the life out of him.
They went upstairs in silence.
PENNY KNEW IT WAS A dream. Her head floated in that funny cloudy way, and her legs wouldn’t work right. She was trying to climb the stairs to get to William. Who knew why she thought William would be at the top of the stairs. Dreams didn’t make sense. But for some reason she urgently needed to get to him.
And then Harrison was there, his handsome face before her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her, trapping her. “What are you doing?” His voice was deep and sexy.
“Get out of my way. I have to get to William.”
Harrison didn’t move. His masculine aroma enveloped her, and she marveled that she could smell in this dream. “No, you don’t.”
Panic rose in her chest. “Yes, I do! He needs me.”
“I need you, Penny.” Harrison
looked in her eyes. “William isn’t real. But I am.” He pressed closer, until her heart pounded against his solid chest. “You like kissing me. Admit it.”
And then his lips were on hers, and fire spread through her. No. She shouldn’t enjoy kissing Harrison. William needed her. But she didn’t stop kissing Harrison. His lips were too warm, too tantalizing. Kissing him was like tasting heaven. And she wanted more. Then his lips were on her cheek, her jaw line, her ear lobe.
“Please, stop.” She could barely get the words out. She had to fight with all her will power.
“I won’t stop until you admit it,” he whispered in her ear.
“Okay, I admit it,” Why was it so hard to talk in this dream? It was like she had a mouth full of marshmallows. “I like kissing you.”
He smiled. “I knew it.”
Then he vanished.
Penny awoke to sunlight streaming in from the sliding glass door. She blinked and the sight of Harrison, lying in the recliner, came into view and she realized he was staring at her. “Good morning.”
“Mmmm.” She rolled over and threw the covers over her head. Why did she have to wake from that dream? It was so realistic. And she could have kissed the imaginary Harrison all day. She groaned. “Not really.”
He laughed. “What were you dreaming about?”
“Why? What did I do?”
“You were talking in your sleep.”
Terror shot through her. No. She hadn’t, had she? Was that why it was so hard to speak? She slowly turned to face him, afraid of what the answer would be, but needing to ask. “What did I say?”
He grinned. “Nothing much.”
She blew out a breath of relief. Thank goodness. The last thing she needed was for Harrison to think she enjoyed kissing him. No matter what she dreamed about, she loved William and needed to work things out with him.
Harrison pushed down the footrest and stood. “Guess I’d better go shower. I have to be in the office in an hour.”
A new kind of panic arose in her and she sat up, clutching the covers. “What? You’re leaving me?”
He tossed his blanket on the chair. “I can’t ignore my job, Penny.”
“So I’m stuck here. With her. That’s just great. What am I supposed to do all day?”
A puzzled look crossed his face. “You’re not stuck here. Antonio will take you wherever you want to go.”
Penny couldn’t understand why he wasn’t getting it. “And where would I go? I don’t know anyone here. Except William. Wait. Do you think Antonio would take me to—”
“No.” His voice was firm. “You’re not going to meet William without me there. End of discussion.”
“End of discussion? Did you really just say that to me?” Heat flushed to her face and she ground her teeth.
“That’s not what I meant.” His voice softened. “I’m just worried about you.”
She blew out a frustrated breath and fell back onto the pillows. “Fine. I’ll just stay in this room, then.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He crossed the room to the closet. “There’s enough house here, I’m sure you could find something to do without running into her.”
“Well I’m not sure I want to find out.”
He disappeared into the closet, but his voice carried. “Just don’t embarrass her in front of her friends and you’ll be fine.”
“I think I embarrass her just by being here.”
He emerged with a suit in hand, and chuckled. “That might be true.”
She moaned and covered her face with her hands. “I’m going to be stuck here. Like a prisoner.”
His laugh came from the bathroom. “Such drama. Would you rather come to work with me?”
Anything would be better than being stuck in the house with the Wicked Witch of the West. “Yes!” She hopped out of bed. “Yes, please. Take me to work with you.”
“All right. There’s another shower in the room next door. We’ll leave in thirty minutes.”
PATRICE MADE SURE NO one was watching as she slipped out the back door and headed toward the garage. She made her way up the apartment steps and knocked on the door. Antonio peeked out.
“It’s all there.” She handed him an envelope.
He nodded and took it from her. “Thank you.”
A noise from the trees startled her and she jumped around. A bird fluttered and flew off into the sky. “I’d better go.”
“See you tonight then?” His eyes held hope.
She nodded. “After midnight.”
Chapter 10
Harrison gazed out of his large office window. The city stretched out before him in a spectacular view, but his mind wasn’t on the scenery. How long had Penny been talking to that nitwit over in sales, thirty minutes? Forty? He looked at the clock again. Nope, it had only been twenty-one minutes. Still, every once in a while he could hear her laughter carry down the hallway to his office. What was that guy’s name? Franklin. Right. Same name as that cartoon turtle. He even looked like a turtle. A short neck, hunched shoulders, and hardly any hair. Why was Penny talking to him, anyway?
He bounced his leg and shuffled the papers on his desk. Bringing her to work had been a bad idea. She’d sat on one of the leather chairs in his office, her legs crossed, reading a copy of Pride and Prejudice she’d taken from his stepmother’s library and distracting him from getting any work done. Then she’d wandered down the hall, to go exploring as she put it, and was now talking to Turtle Man.
Her laughter sounded once again and Harrison stood abruptly, forcing his chair to shoot backward and bump against the wall. What on earth were they talking about? He stalked down the hall to Franklin’s office and stuck his head in.
Penny was partially sitting on the edge of the desk, one foot on the floor. “I know. David Tennant was my favorite, too.”
“I can’t believe they killed off Amy. She was the bomb.” Franklin put his hand near Penny’s knee and Harrison wanted to waltz in and rip the guy’s little turtle head off.
Harrison cleared his throat.
Penny turned toward the door. “Oh, hi. Franklin and I were just talking. He watches Doctor Who, too.”
“That’s great. I was wondering...” He looked at his watch. Eleven. A little early for lunch, but he couldn’t think of any other excuse as to why he needed her. “Do you want to go grab a bite to eat?”
Penny hopped off the desk. “Sure.”
The closer she got to him, the less he wanted to kill Franklin. He snaked his arm around her waist. It felt right. “Chinese sound okay?”
She tossed him one of her bright smiles. “Great.”
As he walked with her out to his Maserati, he marveled at how good she looked in her jeans and a T-shirt sporting the saying, “There’s a fine line between numerator and denominator.” Most people would look frumpy, but she somehow pulled it off.
He slid into his seat and clicked his seatbelt. “I know this great little mom and pop place. It’s a little out of the way, but they have the best egg rolls.”
“I don’t mind out of the way.” Her smile turned sheepish. “I was getting a little bored. A road trip with you sounds nice.”
Did she just say she wanted to spend time with him? And why did that thought please him so much? He turned on the radio and eased the car onto the freeway. “Feel free to change the station if you’d like.”
“No, I don’t mind the oldies channel.”
Heat crept up his neck to his ears. She’d caught him listening to the 80’s station. Oh well. At least she liked it. He gripped the steering wheel and sped up. A Whitney Houston song came on and Penny started singing along.
He listened for a minute, in awe of her voice. In fact, he’d never known anyone who could sing so well. She was tackling the song like it was nothing. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
She stopped and gave him a sideways glance. “I told you I was a performer.”
He hated to admit it, but he’d dismissed it as being another one of her crazy
ideas. He was amazed she actually had talent. “You’re good.”
“Thanks.”
“Have you ever performed anywhere?” Why hadn’t he asked her that before?
“Yes. I had a small part in a Las Vegas show. That’s why I was living there. Unfortunately, it didn’t last, so I was stuck there working at the coffee shop, trying to find something else. It was yet another thing that my father told me wouldn’t work out, and he was right. It didn’t.” She blew her hair out of her face and stared out the window.
“I’m sure your father means well.”
“He does. I just wish I could have succeeded and proven him wrong.”
The look on her face was so downhearted, it stirred a desperate urge in him to cheer her up. “You got a part in a Las Vegas show. I bet not every aspiring performer can say that.”
Her lips lifted in a partial smile. “You’re right.”
“And I’m sure many artists have failures and setbacks before their careers take off.”
“Yes. You’re right again.” She patted his leg. “I just wish my father would understand.”
“What does he want you to do?”
“Something safe. Boring. Like accounting.”
He chuckled. “Well, if your shirt is any indication, you do like math.”
“I like math jokes. Not quite the same thing.” She twisted her hands together. “Plus, I have this other talent, besides singing, I mean. It’s stupid, really, but Dad thinks I should use it in my career.”
Harrison pulled off the freeway and merged into the traffic. “What is it?”
“I can do math in my head.”
“Can’t everyone?”
“No, I mean I can do really complicated math in my head.” She turned away, like she was embarrassed.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not really. It intimidates most people, so I try not to bring it up.” She looked down at her hands.
The Chinese restaurant came into view, so he changed lanes and pulled into the parking lot. “Why would you being able to do math in your head intimidate people?”
Mistakenly Married Page 6