Chapter 24
“Are you planning to come home soon?” John Vander Vetter asked.
“My ticket is still for the end of the month, just like it’s been since I bought it, Dad.” Bash pushed his hair off his forehead. He should have gotten a trim before he’d left New York for Curacao, but between doctors’ appointments, physical therapy sessions, and moving into his penthouse, there hadn’t been time. It was also difficult getting anything done when dragging himself out of bed required a herculean effort. Between his battered body and bruised heart, he was a mess.
The Tetons’ season came to a disastrous end five days and seven hours after his equally disastrous proposal. It had been a hell of a week, and in hindsight, he’d wished he’d handled things better. He’d been surly and rude to Cal and Lucas. Cal was a constant reminder of Penny, and the smitten look on Lucas’s face reminded him he’d royally messed up and lost his chance.
After they’d lost—with Bash sitting in the medical tent and then the locker room during the last quarter—he’d chosen to stay in the ice bath rather than face Penny and the rest of the Buchanans. He wasn’t ashamed of the way they’d played, and he’d said as much to his teammates and the press, but the other team had outplayed them. The Tetons had missed a few scoring opportunities, and the defense hadn’t plugged all the holes. But they were still a young team, and Bash had high hopes for next season.
“Have you been into the office yet this week?”
“It’s Tuesday, Dad, and yes, I was there for most of today.” Stuck in inane meetings. The only thing worse than meetings was his office chair. What it lacked in comfort or support, it made up for with its mid-century modern vibe.
When he’d first arrived at their villa in Curacao, he’d spent every morning reading submissions, but then either the pool or the ocean called to him, and after several hours, he was in the water, manuscripts forgotten. When he fell behind schedule, he read in the office, and now it was an uncomfortable habit. Plus, the dreaded chair felt like penance for his selfishness and stupidity. He knew Penny wouldn’t settle for anything less than love.
“Suit and tie?”
“Nope.” Bash popped the p to annoy his father. “And I’ve told everyone not to wear a noose on my account.” John exhaled on the other end of the line, and Bash could almost see his nostrils flare in frustration.
“How’s the shoulder?” The question took Bash by surprise.
“Better. The water therapy has helped.”
“Is that what you’re calling snorkeling and scuba diving?”
“It’s no different than water resistance training in the pool.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t as therapeutic for his lower back injuries, but acupuncture was helping. And Cal’s recent package of tea and Thistlestone honey had turbocharged his recovery.
When it had arrived, Bash called to thank him, and Cal made him promise to drink a cup of tea with honey in the morning and again at night. “Penny didn’t curse it, did she?” he’d asked, followed by a long, uncomfortable silence. “Cal, I know, and she knows that I know.”
Cal asked how Bash knew and he’d told him about watching the mug and book levitate and a few other things he’d experienced since then, but he hadn’t gone into those details. He’d get a fist to the face if Cal knew his sister lit up like the Fourth of July fireworks when she’d exploded around him.
Bash had asked Cal the questions he’d wanted to ask Penny. Cal explained more about her abilities and limitations, but instead of giving him closure, Bash felt ripped apart.
“No, Penny didn’t curse the honey or the tea. In fact, all of them blessed it during last week’s full moon. Drink it twice a day and you’ll feel better in no time.”
For the family’s use, Elspeth and his sisters added extra protections to the herbal tea made from the flowers grown at Thistlestone and to the honey. It was the reason they were rarely sick, except for colds, which were disastrous for the witches.
“So, that Tanya woman you hired?” John said, getting Bash’s full attention. “What is she supposed to be doing?” Bash bit back a growl. They’d been over this several times already.
“Editing and marketing. She’s got experience with both, and the department managers are happy sharing her.”
“Well, right now, there’s no sharing. She’s spending all her time editing because marketing has nothing for her. I asked Bob about it, and he said you had a plan for her.” Shit. Bash was afraid this would come back to bite him.
When he’d hired Penny’s friend away from Gravitas Press, he’d planned on her and Penny working together to build a program they could roll out to other independent bookstores to strengthen ties between them and to build readership. His plan had died when Penny walked out his door.
“Sebastian, I’m looking at a five-thousand-dollar bill from a private detective you hired to find this woman. Meanwhile, HR has a stack of potential editors we could have tapped for free.”
“Send me the bill.”
“That’s not the point. You obviously had a plan for this woman. What happened?”
“Plans change,” Bash said.
“For other people, but not you. You always think things through and there isn’t an impulsive bone in your body.” Wanna bet? he thought, remembering his botched proposal. “I can’t help if you won’t talk.”
His therapist had issued a similar warning in their first session. Opening up to him was proving to be one of Bash’s better, but highly painful and uncomfortable ideas, so maybe telling his dad, with as few details as possible, might help.
“I was hoping to partner with that bookstore in Cascade City, but I had a falling out with the owner.”
“Elspeth? Really? Your mom can’t stop talking about her. They’re like BFFs.” Bash didn’t know what worried him more, hearing his dad use BFF or that Elspeth and his mom were friends.
“No, the other owner.”
“Ah, the niece.” Bash could visualize his dad nodding his head as the pieces fell into place. “Your mom said the two of you were close.”
“Yeah, well, it ended.”
“Just because it went sideways that’s no excuse to abandon the business angle. I know I wasn’t supportive of the book clubs, but I think you’re on to something. And your mom had a good time at the book signing. It would be interesting to see how their sales numbers compare to the previous period. If they’re up, it would be easier to convince other authors to find the time.”
“And for marketing to put money behind it,” Bash said. If his dad believed in something, be it a book or an idea, he made sure it had money behind it.
“Yes, but the first step is fixing whatever you did wrong.”
“What makes you think it was me?”
“Are you telling me it wasn’t?” Bash heard the skepticism in his dad’s voice.
“No, it was me, and it can’t be fixed.”
“Then find a way around it. Don’t let this idea die on the vine.”
Penny fingered the card tucked inside the lush bouquet filled with blue delphinium, bright pink roses, light pink miniature carnations, and magenta peonies and wondered how much it had cost. Had he called the florist directly or had he offloaded it to an assistant? Were the pink miniature carnations a fluke or had he remembered from when they’d played the ‘what’s your favorite’ game while sharing a sundae at Moo Please on their first non-date date? He preferred tulips and daffodils as they heralded the end of winter, his least favorite time in New York City.
“A proposition, not a proposal,” she said, looking around her office. She didn’t want to talk to him. His half-assed, marriage-for-Bash’s-convenience proposal had knocked her for a loop and her heart was finally mending. She’d driven away from his house that shattering morning, dazed and confused, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking. Several days later, anger had set in. Did he think she was desperate? How twisted was he that he thought a proposal like that was okay?
And then her heart ached for him, knowing that for him it wasn’t twisted, but logical and safe. She’d met his mother, and while Gloria hadn’t been mean to Bash, she hadn’t been loving, and Penny knew Bash yearned for love. She didn’t fault Gloria. Bash wasn’t easy to love, but Penny knew he’d needed more from his mother and she wished Gloria had had the skills to give him what he’d needed.
Penny had been stuck in this weird, angry-acceptance state for almost a month now, and she was tired of it. Everyone was tired of it, except the romance book club, who enjoyed every minute of her distress. They were sure her happily-ever-after was right around the corner as soon as she and Bash fought through the dark moment. How they, and everyone else, knew about the breakup was a mystery to her, and the mystery book club refused to share their insights with her. But Penny didn’t want a romantic grand gesture. She wanted to wind back time. Shove a piece of bacon in his mouth and force him to chew down his words.
What’s the harm in calling him? I can always hang up. Calling him might give her closure so she could move on and find peace and equilibrium. She was unbalanced and didn’t trust herself or her gift. Last week’s disaster caught her eye.
Penny had magicked the eraser to clean the left side of the board while she reordered books. Anger and sadness filled her when she saw Gloria Sebastian’s name. She didn’t want to order any of her books—all top sellers since Gloria’s December visit—but she’d forced herself. Not doing so would only hurt the business. Penny sighed with relief when she’d finished the order, but gasped when she looked at the whiteboard. Sketches of Bash—his mouth, his torso, an eye, his hand, his glasses, his butt—surrounded terrible, painful poetry.
Written across his torso was:
“Love is for dummies”
He said with a smirk
She’s just na?ve
What a bad jerk
Near his mouth:
That dude’s so hot, what a stunner
But he opens his mouth, that’s a bummer
Chiseled jaw, bulging muscles
Still when he talks, hand me a muzzle
And the worst was in a corner with a picture of Bash sitting alone at a table bent over a bowl:
Awkward lump has no game
Can’t talk to people, it’s a shame
Sits alone and eats beef ramen
Foreveralone.com is his name
Sharpie markers had wiggled on the ledge, mocking her. Penny had scrubbed at the offensive words and disjointed pictures with the eraser to no avail. Rubbing alcohol didn’t work, and neither did hand sanitizer. She traced over one of the more disturbing pictures with a dry erase marker, hoping the Youtuber’s solution was right, but again, failure. The board was too heavy to move on her own, and she didn’t trust her magic. With her luck, it would park the board in the main lobby next to the elevator and staircase.
Gratefully, Elspeth was on vacation for another week and Penny kept the office door locked. She was waiting for Lucas to help her hang the new, larger whiteboard that had arrived yesterday. After the accident, she’d covered the old one with a fitted sheet.
Penny didn’t know what to do. Other than the whiteboard fiasco and a few minor magical glitches, she was healing. Would talking to Bash help or would it open the wound? Maggie was in class for another hour, and she didn’t want to talk to her mom or Tanya, who had started a new job. Penny was avoiding her calls, and Tanya was vague in her texts, but she promised to spill all the details when they talked. But until Penny’s heart healed and she’d locked away her jealousy, she didn’t want to hear about Tanya’s great life. Not while her’s sucked.
Her issue with Bash wasn’t a straightforward affaire du coeur. There were witchy issues at play that Alison wouldn’t understand. Elspeth wasn’t an option. She’d tell Penny to move along, but Penny had enjoyed being in a relationship. With the right person, it’s a heck of a lot better than a book, Penny thought as she resorted and called Harper.
“Hey, P the Pen,” Harper’s chipper voice greeted her, but Penny didn’t respond. “Too soon?” she asked.
“Yes.” Penny had sent Harper and Maggie pictures of the whiteboard and Harper had nicknamed her P the Pen.
“What’s up but give me the highlights ’cause I’m on deadline.”
“Bash wants me to call him.” Penny hadn’t mentioned the proposal to her sisters. She’d kept the details of their breakup private, preferring not to share her shame and humiliation. That she’d believed he’d loved her, too.
“Do you want to?”
“If I knew that, would I be calling you?”
Harper chuckled. “No, I suppose not. Is there a downside?”
“Relapsing.” Getting my hopes up.
“Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe talking to him will help. You’ve had time apart and you might see things more objectively.”
“I don’t know Harper,” Penny sighed, looking at the card.
“I don’t know either, but I know that what you’re doing isn’t working for you. I’ve never seen you bent out of shape over a guy, and I’m tired of seeing you suffer. So, I say pull on your big girl panties and call him.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think, do. Call me after.” Harper hung up, assuming Penny would comply, because her royal highness had decreed it.
She looked around the disorganized office, which mirrored the mess in her apartment. Penny couldn’t keep on like this. Her magic was hit or miss and even when it hit, it took more energy than it should have. Penny was a better witch, a better woman, than this. She was tired of being Penny the Pathetic. She wanted to be Penny the Powerful again, and it seemed like the only thing standing in her way was a conversation with an irritating, challenging man.