12. Linda
LINDA
The sun poured through her car window as she pulled up in front of Penny’s house as the woman ran down the stairs toward the car.
"Can we not at least stop so I can get changed first?
" Penny mumbled as she pulled open the door and slid into the passenger seat.
They were both still dressed in their casual attire—simple t-shirts, practical jeans, and old sneakers covered in a light layer of renovation dust. "How is George doing? "
"Well, hello to you too," Linda greeted her sarcastically, then answered her about George.
"My uncle is still out under the chemical sedation, but the medical team explicitly stated that his vitals are stable and he is going to be okay.
He remains under strict monitoring inside the intensive care unit. "
“I’m glad George is okay,” Penny told her.
“We all are,” Linda admitted, letting out a ragged breath. It had been a very stressful few days.
"Can we not just pull up to the hotel and gather some fresh clothes from our suites?" Penny protested, glancing down at a small plaster smudge on her sleeve. “I feel so grubby.”
"No," Linda said, keeping her eyes fixed on the roadway ahead as she tapped the steering wheel. "There is no time if we want to catch our window before the afternoon rush."
"Ugh," Penny moaned, leaning her head back against the leather headrest with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, but you are buying us a late lunch to compensate for the wardrobe malfunction."
"Deal," Linda said, a small laugh breaking through her lingering anxiety as the dash suddenly lit up and started an angry aggressive beep that grew louder.
"Penny, buckle up." She glanced at the woman beside her.
"You do that a lot, you know." She shook her head.
“Get into a car and not put your seatbelt on right away.”
"I am used to sitting comfortably in the cushioned back of a corporate town car," Penny pointed out, her tone dry.
"You should wear a seatbelt in the back of a town car as well," Linda told her, keeping her voice calm as she pulled up the regional safety statistics in her mind.
"The data reports from the highway safety administration are remarkably grim on that subject.
A high percentage of unrestrained passengers sitting in the rear seats are thrown forward with enough physical velocity to fatally injure the driver or the front passenger during a standard collision. "
"Oh, good grief," Penny breathed, a visible shudder moving her shoulders as she quickly reached across her frame.
She clicked the metal tongue into the anchor block with a sharp snap, and the persistent, annoying safety beep on the dashboard cut out instantly.
"Phew." She let out a long, relieved sigh, smoothing her hands over her lap. "What a truly terrible noise."
"Purposely engineered to ensure you comply with the road safety regulations," Linda advised her with a small, knowing smile. “To stop forgetful people who lounge in lavish town cars from flying through windows if a car hits something.”
“Okay, I get it,” Penny said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be more cautious.”
“That’s all I ask,” Linda told her, satisfied.
"I am genuinely glad George is going to be okay," Penny told her, moving the subject away from her bad habit of not using seatbelts. "I take it George is not coming home as anticipated in a day now?”
"No," Linda told her, her expression turning sober as she recalled the floor coordinator's direct words.
"The doctor says he needs at least a full week of absolute quiet under medical supervision before they can discuss a discharge plan.
" She glanced up into the rearview mirror, her eyes narrowing as she tracked a white, non-descript sedan maintaining a consistent, fixed distance three cars back. A quiet smile touched her lips. She’d noticed it most of the day. "We have a tail, I think."
Penny pulled down the passenger sun visor, turning the small vanity mirror so she could scan the reflection behind them before patting a stray lock of hair into place.
"Yes, that is one of ours," she confirmed, her tone thoroughly relaxed.
"I feel as though I have stepped directly into a Hollywood movie set," Linda admitted, her fingers tightening slightly against the steering wheel.
"It is terrible when even standard, everyday business turns into some kind of criminal syndicate plot," Penny said, her voice laced with genuine frustration.
"Honestly, I am so glad I am no longer working in the corporate world.
Even the massive entities that claim to operate completely above board can never seem to keep their business squeaky clean. "
"It is sad that the professional world has become so dark," Linda said softly, her gaze tracking the green mangroves lining the channel.
"I’m glad you are out of it too." She paused, a sudden thought making her brow furrow as she glanced across the cabin.
"So you are really not rescinding your formal resignation from the Wayne Group? "
"No," Penny said adamantly, her jaw setting into a firm line. “I am not. And it’s not just about the way Darius handled this situation with you. I needed the change. It was time.”
"Then I am happy for you," Linda told her new friend, and she realized the words were entirely true. The old barriers between them had completely vanished over the last few days. "Besides, you seem so incredibly happy spending your mornings fixing up that rambling old mansion."
"I have never been happier." Penny's eyes lit with a sudden flash of excitement as she turned to face her.
"At first, I fully intended to simply flip the property for a quick capital return, but the second I signed the final transfer deeds...
" She gave a soft, self-conscious laugh.
"The moment I walked into the grand foyer and looked up at the woodwork, I knew it was meant to be mine.
That specific word, mine, just stuck in my thoughts.
I want it to be my home. My lasting legacy. "
"And what a magnificent legacy that mansion is," Linda told her, a wave of warmth clearing some of her tension. "We used to love attending the summer garden parties on those lawns when I was a kid. It was like walking directly onto a romantic movie set."
"Yes, I can easily picture that layout actually," Penny agreed, nodding.
The cabin fell into a companionable, quiet rhythm for a few miles before Penny turned a soft, searching look across the seat.
"Are you okay… with what’s happening?" Penny asked her softly. “I know it’s a lot and I have to say I think you’re handling it remarkably.” Her eyes scanned Linda’s face. “But how are you really?”
"I don't know," Linda said, her voice dropping as the heavy reality of the deception returned. "I’m still reeling from finding out the truth about Darius’s identity in the lobby. But..." She shook her head. "I don't know."
"I understand," Penny said gently.
"Did you manage to look over that legal contract I sent to you?" Linda asked, needing to ground herself in the technical details.
Penny smiled, a playful gleam returning to her eyes. "Do you still not trust your new corporate attorney?"
"I do," Linda said, though she knew that was not exactly true. The sting of recent deceptions made confidence hard to come by. "But I trust you more though."
"The contract is completely legitimate," Penny told her, her tone shifting into a professional, authoritative delivery. "Every single ounce of structural risk is placed squarely on the other side of the table, and there is absolutely none to you at all."
"Oh," Linda's heart slammed hard against her ribs. Her throat went dry and her thoughts wild at the implications of Penny’s words. "Wow."
When she had first reviewed the terms of that agreement in Pete's private office, Linda had been stunned by the scale of the concessions. Now that Penny had verified the parameters, she felt completely floored.
"It’s a remarkably small price for them to pay for what happened to you," Penny stated, a sudden flash of anger darkening her eyes as she looked out the side window. "If you ask my honest opinion, you should be demanding significantly more from them."
"Good grief, Penny," Linda snorted, pulling the car into the entrance of the commercial strip. "How much more is there left to ask for?"
"Trust me," Penny glanced over at her with a mischievous grin. "A lot, lot more. We could easily liquidate everything and purchase a few of our own private Gulfstreams. I could clear out the extended back garden at the mansion to construct a private runway."
"That garden is massive, isn't it?" Linda noted, a laugh breaking through her nerves. "But I think I would rather have one of those luxury twin-engine helicopters instead."
"You cannot travel nearly as far in a helicopter," Penny pointed out, smiling at their imaginings.
"I don't need to travel far," Linda told her, slowing the vehicle down. "Maybe we should actually focus our attention on securing a superyacht instead."
"Ooh," Penny said, her grin widening. "Yes. That way my former boss won't be able to follow us around." Linda noticed her friend casting a deliberate, pointed glance into the side mirror at the white sedan pulling into a parking space down the block. "He is also terrified of the open sea."
"I know," Linda said quietly, her expression softening for a fraction of a second before she caught herself. "He told me about the phobia."
"I mean, I don't particularly like traveling into the deep ocean myself," Penny said, "but I don't fear the sea the way he does."
"Phobias are genuinely terrifying things to manage," Linda told her, steering the car into a vacant space near the front walk. "Do you possess any specific fears?"
"I have a few distinct ones," Penny admitted, but she didn't get the opportunity to expand on the thought as Linda threw the transmission into park directly in front of the local diner.