Crown of Lies

I reached forward, rubbing Stewie’s lapel, playing into the role of judgment. “I think the tailors did an amazing job, but the suit wouldn’t look good on just anyone.” I smiled, standing upright. “You wear that suit, Stewie, the suit doesn’t wear you.”

Stewie’s face scrunched up. “I don’t get it.”

Penn chuckled. “She likes it.”

“Sweet!” Stewie spun in place. “Larry said I can wear it to my school interviews next month. Said it will help me open doors that may be locked thanks to my background.”

Penn glanced at me quickly before nodding. “Wise man. But no doors will be locked; you have my word on that.” His hands clenched before relaxing. “Now, speaking of Larry, mind showing us where he’s hanging out?”

Stewie nodded, slipping into a quick jig-jog. “Sure, this way.”

Penn raised his eyebrow at me, took my hand, and together, we navigated the room.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I WAS WONDERING when you’d show up.” Larry grinned, shaking Penn’s hand as we popped from the crowd thanks to Stewie guiding us.

We’d traversed the ballroom to a quieter meeting room off to the side. Here, men and women huddled in their array of silver splendor, their voices hushed in discussion, soft with business and not for other people’s ears.

“Fashionably late.” Penn smirked. “Isn’t that what you taught me?”

“Not to your own event.”

Wait, his event?

I frowned. I died with impatience to ask what the evening supported. Why Penn would be the figurehead for something that deserved such a turn-out. But Penn waved at Larry then to me. “You remember Elle?”

“Of course, I do. I’m not blind, you idiot.” The name-calling carried heavy affection as Larry leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Hello, Elle. You look ravishing.”

I accepted his greeting, doing my best not to blush. “Thank you. You look dashing yourself.” Just like Penn dressed in a silver tuxedo, Larry wore a darker version. His salt and pepper hair matched the silver theme perfectly. Stewie was the only one to break the metallic code with his gray pinstripe.

Champagne was once again handed out. Penn plucked a glass, handing it to me with another raised eyebrow. I accepted it but didn’t take a sip—mainly in defiance.

Awkwardness fell.

I grasped for an appropriate subject. “So you said this was Penn’s event?” I glanced at the men. “I must admit he hasn’t given me any hints as to why I’m here or what the evening festivities are for.”

Larry shot Penn a disapproving glare. “He didn’t, did he?” He smiled. “Let me be the one to tell you then.”

“Larry,” Penn growled under his breath. “Remember our discussion.”

Larry waved him off, taking my elbow and escorting me toward the bar and away from Penn. “This is a charity function. Every year Penn hosts it. He has since we started working together.”

“Working together?”

Larry nodded as if it was perfect knowledge. “I’m a lawyer. My firm needed a helping hand, and Penn offered. He’s smart with a quick tongue. He traveled with me to many cases—even helped provide the legwork on research when I got sick. However, while I was in recovery, he turned his hand to the stock market.”

His eyes focused on a memory with pride. “He invested in a small penny stock. With his luck, it should’ve tanked. But it didn’t. For the first time, he was rewarded for his risk and the stock took off overnight. He used the profits to inject into this charity and to day trade the same companies we took to court on behalf of some of its victims.”

There were tangles and knots in his revelation that I couldn’t work out. I needed a quiet room where I could write down what he’d revealed and mix them around on pieces of paper until I could rearrange them into comprehensible order.

“And what is the charity for?”

Larry beamed like any happy parent. “Homeless children, of course.”

I slammed to a stop.

Homeless.

Nameless...

My strappy heels pinched my feet. “What did you just say?”

Larry noticed my sudden pallor. His face fell. “He hasn’t told you yet. Has he?”

All I could manage was a shake of my head.

I felt sick.

I felt elated.

I felt terrified.

His face softened, looking over my shoulder as the electrical presence of the man I’d forever associate with heartache appeared. He’d lied and twisted my mind. He’d hidden honesty and made me crazy. He stopped me from learning anymore by interfering with our conversation.

Larry bent into me, murmuring, “I’ll tell you this, then the rest is up to him. He was homeless himself. It’s his way of giving back—to help other kids having a really hard time in life.” Patting my arm, he said louder as Penn sidled close, “I need a refill. Anyone else?”

“No.” Penn shook his head, wrapping his arm around my suddenly trembling body. “I think you’ve done more than enough.”

Larry merely shrugged, unapologetic.

I glanced up, taking in Penn’s profile. The way his jaw was sharp and strong and no longer covered in an unkempt beard. The way his eyes lightened and darkened depending on his mood but remained the same hue as the man in Central Park. How he’d asked me if I trusted him. How he had the same habit of jamming his hands into his pockets. How he’d kissed me with chocolate...