Twenty-One
Pen’s mother sprayed the dusting cloth with Pledge and wiped the rungs of a wooden crib. Paula and Louis had driven to Texas, claiming the road trip would do them good. They’d arrived the day after the movers left everything behind and Pen had been so glad to see them, she could’ve cried.
In fact, she had.
“It was yours when you were a baby,” her mother said as she polished the crib. “I honestly didn’t remember that we had it. Your father cleaned out the storage unit and there it was.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Paula Brand abandoned her work and scooped Pen into a hug with just the right amount of pressure. Pen would have cried more if there were any tears left.
“Are you going to tell me the real reason behind you walking out on your billionaire fiancé?” Her mom held her at arm’s length and waited.
Pen’s lips compressed as she considered doing just that. She was willing to tell her mother a partial truth, but she couldn’t bear confessing that the engagement was never real. Especially since, for Pen, her love for Zach was very real.
“When Zach proposed—” both times “—he did it out of obligation rather than love. I couldn’t settle for less than his whole heart.” Speaking of heart, hers gave a mournful wail. Walking out on him instead of accepting half measures was harder than she’d like to believe.
She’d been comfortable with him. She had a home, combined parenting, and yes, the money was a source of comfort, as well. But she wasn’t the type of woman to let comfort and stability rule her world. If she were, she never would’ve left Chicago.
Hand resting on her swollen stomach, Pen thanked God that she had left Chicago. That she carried this baby in her belly and that, for all the heartache Zach had caused her, she’d finally experienced love.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Paula shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh. “I wish I could share a story so I could relate, but the truth is I was lucky to find your father when I was young.”
Penelope’s parents were high school sweethearts who married and built a business and had a baby because they were ready. Not because, in the midst of finding companionship, the birth control hadn’t worked. But she didn’t begrudge them their happiness.
“I’m glad you can’t relate,” she told her mother with a smile.
“Regardless, life is not without its struggles.” Paula palmed her daughter’s cheeks and returned her smile.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve picked myself up and dusted myself off more times than I can count.” Pen felt like bawling, but she was going to have to buck up. She wanted her daughter to be as proud of her as Pen was of her own mother.
Pen had done the unthinkable—she’d fallen for a guy who was unwilling to share his heart. His world, his money, yes. But not his heart. And in the end, that was all she’d wanted.
“I have something for you.” Paula went to her purse and came out with an envelope. A very flat envelope. “We had an unexpected windfall after that last house flip—”
“Mom, no.” Pen backed away like her mother held a live spider by the leg rather than an envelope by the corner.
“Your dad and I want you to have this. We’re going to be grandparents. We want to start our spoiling early.” She shook the envelope. “I mean it.”
Pen accepted it with a murmured “Thank you.”
Paula rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait to go shopping for this baby!”
Pen thought of the Love & Tumble boutique, of the photographer she’d hired and the Dallas Duchess blog. She’d avoided much of the handling of her own potential PR nightmare for the last week-plus. She didn’t care about her reputation—none of it was career-altering—but there were elements to handle that affected the Fergusons.
The mayor.
Stefanie.
Zach.
Penelope resolved to handle them as soon as possible.
“I don’t know what to say,” Pen said, holding the envelope in both hands. Blank on the outside, and who knew how much money on the inside. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that her parents were supportive of her decision to raise her child apart from Zach, and that they loved her no matter what.
Anything beyond that involved items on Pen’s own to-do list. Items like shared custody and drop-offs. Announcing the sex of the baby as well as confirming the breakup for the public.
“I’m going to run to work, if that’s okay?” She phrased it like a question but knew her mother’s response before she gave it.
“That a girl.” Paula smiled proudly.
In her downtown office, Pen sat at her desk and jotted a quick list of phone calls to make, pausing to mourn the space. She’d have to abandon her office to work at home. Start having meetings in coffee shops and her clients’ offices again. She could no longer afford both Brand Consulting’s shingle and her daughter.
Hand on her tummy, she closed her eyes and reminded herself of what was important.
Then she picked up her desk phone and called the mayor of Dallas.
* * *
Chase showed up in Zach’s office five minutes before five o’clock, a shadow of the same hour decorating his jaw.
“You look like shit,” Zach offered. “Rough day?”
Chase held his gaze but didn’t cop to the status of his day, instead returning, “I’d talk. You look like your rough days had friends who came by to beat the hell out of you at night.”
“Wonder why that is.” Zach blinked tired eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Or eating well. Or thinking well, either. Suffering from a breakup would do that. And he did mean suffering.
“Penelope called me this afternoon,” Chase said.
That snapped Zach awake. “You? Why?”
“She let me know she was announcing your amicable breakup via a blogger. Duchess something. Pen asked me to pass it on. In person.”
“That was bold.” No one told the mayor of Dallas what to do. “And you agreed.”
“I came to tell you that and one more thing.”
“Which is?” Zach asked as he typed in the URL for the Dallas Duchess. No news about himself was on the front page, but an ad for Love & Tumble caught his eye and snagged his heart.
“Penelope misses you.”
Zach tore his eyes from the screen. “Did she say that?”
“She didn’t have to. She sounded...sad.” Chase’s eyes skated over Zach’s rumpled shirt. “I wonder if she looks as bad as you do. I doubt it. She’s a helluva lot prettier.”
No arguing that finer point.
“I can’t go by your gut, Chase.” But even as he said it, Zach’s mind was turning. He’d been racking his brain all week for ways to win her back.
His eyes on the blog in front of him, he considered a new possibility. Maybe he could out-PR the PR maven.
“I’m not giving up,” Zach told his brother.
“It’s hard to know when to give up and when to dig in.” Chase’s tone was contemplative. He sucked in a breath and expelled such a personal comment, Zach stared at him in shock. “Like when Mimi and I unraveled. Mom and Dad were right. She wasn’t a good fit for a political partner, but at the time, I struggled. I didn’t know my future. I didn’t know if I’d actually make it to mayor when she left. But I knew if I did, I’d be better off without her.”
Despite Chase’s assuredness as he recited the tale of the decay of his past relationship, Zach had been there when it happened. He remembered his older brother’s state when he lost Mimi. He’d been devastated for months. Then again, devastation on Chase looked different than it did on other people. Chase had dug his heels in and honed his focus on world domination.
He’d fallen just short of the world, but he’d landed Dallas. Zach wasn’t sure if his stiff-lipped older brother was a good template with which to map out his own future or not.
“The point is you need to figure out what you want your life to look like in five, ten, twenty years,” Chase said. “What role does Penelope play? She’s the mother of your child, but is marrying her really what’s best for you? Or is the best thing for you to back away from her and let the future fall into place?”
As Chase spoke, Zach rose from his chair.
“Are you kidding me right now? This is the advice you’re offering? You don’t know what Pen and I were like together. When she was in my house. In my life.” When she was settled across from him in a restaurant, laughing over her wine. Or in the doctor’s office, with tears of joy shining in her eyes. Or when she’d moved out of his house with such resolve, that Zach questioned whether or not he’d imagined her every reaction beforehand.
“Simple question,” Chase said in his typical ubercalm state. “She misses you. Do you miss her?”
More than anyone knew.
“Yes.”
“Do you love her?” Since the inflection and volume of Chase’s voice hadn’t changed even a little, Zach had to let that question settle into the pit of his gut.
His churning, uncertain, fear-filled gut.
“There’s your answer,” Chase said. “Let her go, Zach. Love, even when it’s real and lasting, isn’t a sure thing. But when it’s not there, you’re betting on a loss. The longer you let a loveless relationship go on, the bigger that loss is.”
On that note, Chase gave him a curt nod and left the office.