Penny
“I honestly thought there wasn’t a bone in my body that was caught up in the princess nonsense.” This dress is like wearing a cloud. The chiffon, the tulle, it’s all huge, yet somehow it feels weightless. The dark mauve color is perfect for the gala and matches the accessories on Dalton’s tuxedo. Put a tiara on my head and I might break out in song and get little woodland creatures to follow me around.
“You look stunning.” Dalton laughs as his hand lands on the small of my back. “Who knew all it would take for you to fit into my world was a shower?”
“You’ll pay for that.”
“I hope it involves restraints. Please let it involve restraints.”
I knock my elbow into his ribs, but my cheeks warm. The sexual tension I felt for Dalton since the first time I met him is still there, but it has deepened. We’ve added a layer of friendship onto what we have, and being near him makes me feel good, body and soul.
“That dress was made for you.” Dalton gestures to the twinkling lights above our heads and spins me in his arms “And you were made for this.”
“Do you know all these people?” I’m still in his arms, pressed against his body as he stares deep in my eyes.
“What other people?” Dalton whispers and my heart thuds so hard against my ribs I wonder if the whole room can hear it.
“Dalton,” a chubby-faced man with suspenders and a ridiculous bow tie announces as he slaps him on the back. “You never show up to these things.”
“Mr. Cannington,” Dalton says, his hold on me loosening. “Some things are worth leaving the office for.”
“That’s not what I hear about you,” Mr. Cannington says, wiggling his overgrown brows at us. “A real go-getter. Just about every other person I run into tells me I should speak with you.”
“I’d love to chat,” Dalton says, then looks at me. He looks torn. “I think we have some real continuity in our business models to find mutually beneficial opportunities.”
“I agree.” Mr. Cannington nods. “But I don’t want to take you away from your lovely date this evening.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Miss—”
“Penelope Fuller,” I provide and shake his hand.
Dalton tenses at my side. He doesn’t think I understand what needs to be done in this moment. If I stand here doe-eyed and dumb, he’ll have to agree with Mr. Cannington, and they’ll miss their chance to talk. A less secure woman would do just that.
I want Dalton to make this connection. He graciously went everywhere I dragged him this past week. The least I can do is help him now. I know what it can mean for him. “I actually have some ladies over by the bar I promised to chat with.” I grin graciously. “It’s me you’ll have to excuse.”
“No problem at all.” Mr. Cannington beams with a tiny bow in my direction. Dalton however can’t seem to let me go completely. He masks the shock and relief on his face, but I can still read it in his eyes. He’s impressed. For some reason that matters to me. He holds me just another second and brushes a gentle kiss against my cheek.
“We won’t be long,” he promises.
I smile. “I might be plenty long myself. You know how women can get when they start talking.” My joke is made much funnier by the fact that I know no one at this party, and I only intend to go hide somewhere until they’re done. But Mr. Cannington is none the wiser as he laughs and waves me off.
I watch Dalton break right into a conversation about business, and his whole demeanor changes. He’s animated and excited as I hear terms like long-term acquisition and year-over-year growth pass between them. I recognize this enthusiasm as the same I always see in Kylie when she gets into the nitty-gritty of a business conversation.
I slip away to another small room where I find stacked champagne glasses towering more than two feet over my head. I flash with the anxiety of being the klutz who bumps the table and sends it crashing down. Note to self: stay away from that side of the room.
“That’s a lovely dress,” a woman says as she touches my shoulder and looks me over as though I might be up for auction later. “I haven’t seen you here before. What is your name?” Her hair is pulled so tightly it’s tugging back the corners of her eyes and her dress is so formfitting I can count her ribs.
“My name is Penny. Penelope Fuller.”
“I’m Darling Mewly.”
I nod as though that is a name anyone should actually have and shake her dainty ice-cold hand when she extends it.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Is your sister Kylie Fuller?” Darling asks as she scrutinizes my features. “Your mother is Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” I gulp out, feeling suddenly like the lights have been turned up, and they’re all pointing at me.
“Wow, what a pedigree you have,” Darling gasps. “I thought you were arm candy for one of these womanizing bastards. But you are a Fuller. A force in the business world.”
“They are,” I say. “I, on the other hand, don’t exactly stack up to their reputations.”
“A late bloomer.” Darling waves off my self-assessment. “Can’t have that fierce blood in your veins and not end up demolishing a competitor’s company.”
“The only thing I demolish is a giant slice of cake.” I laugh but Darling only meets me with a weak smile.
“So then you are here with someone?”
“Yes.” I gesture over my shoulder to where I left Dalton animatedly chatting. “Dalton Croft.”
“Tonight,” she says, raising her brows high. “Really?”
I let out a nervous laugh.
“You want some champagne, dear?” Darling asks as she points to the tower of glasses.
“No, thank you.”
“Some advice?” Before I have a chance to refuse that as well, she adds, “I’ve never seen Dalton with the same woman twice. He’s the king of the one-night stand, if you know what I mean.”
“We’re actually seeing each other.” I blurt the words out half in defense of him and half of myself. I’m not a one-night stand for him.
“Wow,” Darling says. “Think you can tame the beast? I’m impressed, but then you are a Fuller.”
“I . . .” I stutter.
“And here’s your tiger now,” Darling says, looking perfectly giddy with anticipation. “Dalton, I hear you’re finally settling down. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you were in a real relationship. I mean, when are you going to give up your apartment in Bachelor Tower?”
My cheeks blaze with heat, and I can practically feel the walls closing in on me. I don’t know how long someone can go without breathing before they pass out, but I’m on the verge of finding out.
Dalton frowns but places an arm possessively around my waist. “How is Peter doing, Darling? Is he still in France?”
Darling shrinks back and gulps, looking suddenly as uncomfortable as I was a moment ago. “He is,” she croaks out. “I’m going to refresh my drink. Good to see you.”
“I am so sorry,” I gush, squeezing his arm tightly. “She was being so snarky, and I blurted out that we were in a relationship. Thank you for not making me look like a complete idiot.”
He began to relax. “What did she say?”
I really don’t want to talk about it, so I change the subject. “How did your talk with Cannington go?”
“Better than expected,” Dalton answers with a bright, excited look on his face. “I’ve been waiting for him to come to me for months. I knew there was a big opportunity for the two of us to partner on some foreign deals, but Cannington doesn’t respond well to people who pitch him unsolicited ideas. His office is a revolving door of people who want to be in business with him, and he turns most away. I planted the seed with a few associates of his, and I knew he’d eventually come my way.”
“That’s great. I’m glad it worked out. I’m sorry about the thing with Darling. I’m sure she’ll be spreading that rumor around as fast as she can. It’ll damage your reputation.”
“I’ll survive. There are worse things to be accused of than winning over a woman like you.”
“A woman like me?” I ask, blushing again. “You mean a yoga instructor. Dog walker. Former child receptionist for a failing employment agency?”
“A woman who can wear that dress and make everyone else in this place look like a peasant. A woman who can smile and mean it, no matter what’s going on around her. A woman who hurts because her dad’s hurting. I can live with people thinking I’m dating a woman like that.”
Dating? He said dating? That’s what we’re doing? “I’d like to dance,” I say as the orchestra in the main room begins to play. Dalton bends his arm to escort me to the dance floor and the heady thrill of the night overtakes me. The lights. The opulence. The drinks. Every surface perfectly decorated. Even the food on the table looks like it’s been artfully designed.
Maybe it’s not so bad to have a night like this every once in a while. I imagine Kylie here and how she would maneuver through the crowd. For once, I don’t focus on how our differences separate us but rather on how beautiful some of our differences are.
Damn Millie—she was right again. Being in the Bachelor Tower, spending time with Dalton, experiencing all of this with him is opening my eyes. Maybe I don’t have to choose a life that is all one way or all the other.