Chapter 5
Penelope
Carrie and I arrive at our parents’ favorite brunch spot in Butterfly Cove, ready to nurse our hangovers with copious amounts of food and all the liquids imaginable.
Coffee. Water. Orange juice. Repeat.
The air is seasoned with the scent of fish, fried hush puppies, and salt that drifts off the ocean, making my stomach rumble viciously. Kalaine’s is a bit swanky for my taste, but the food is incredible and there’s a stunning view of the bluffs surrounding the white-capped ocean, which crashes against them.
We spot our parents sitting beneath a canopy of tropical pink flowers winding up and inside the wooden arbor above their table. It’s not Sunday, but Mom and Dad are certainly wearing their best.
I roll a set of chunky bracelets around my wrist, and sneer at the outfit Carrie’s let me borrow. My hair is curled, my eyeshadow is smokey, and I’m one wedgie away from crawling out of my skin.
“Stop fidgeting,” she hisses, discreetly swatting my hand.
“You’re the one who put me in this contraption,” I hiss back. “How the hell do you expect me to get this thing off to pee?”
Her eyes roll the same way they had when she helped me into what she’s calling a ‘romper,’ two hours ago. “Would it kill you to embrace elegance for once in your life?”
I tug at the material, sneaking its way up my ass crack with every step we take, and grumble, “In these wedges, probably.”
“Happy birthday, honey,” Mom greets me, standing to place a kiss on my cheek. “Two days late, but better late than never, right?”
“It’s no problem,” I assure her, soothing the guilt stamped on her face.
A plain white cake sits at the center of the table, with tiny clusters of edible flowers along the edges and three gold candles in the middle, waiting to be lit.
“Awe, this cake is so…” Boring? Tragically dull? Drastically opposite of me in every way? “You shouldn’t have.”
“Anything for you.” She cranes her neck to look behind me. “Where’s Koa?”
I don’t meet Carrie’s gaze when I easily spout a lie. “Um, he couldn’t make it.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” She frowns. “I was looking forward to hearing all about you two finally pursuing a relationship.”
For years my parents have hoped something would happen between us, and maybe I’d entertain the idea if it weren’t for that damn spark I’m after. The kind of zing that slaps a person in the face when they’re least expecting it and demands attention, no matter how hard they try to ignore it.
“I’ve always liked that boy,” Dad chimes in before wrapping me in a tight hug. “Reliable, strong, and hard-working. He’s perfect for you.”
Carrie glares daggers behind his back as she mouths, “Koa?”
The pinched smile I give her is one born and bred in guilt. But what does she want from me? Mom asked if I’d been dating anyone, and in a panic, his name popped right out of my mouth.
“Well, we’ll just have to catch up with him next time,” she says as we all take our seats.
I cringe at the use of ‘next time’ when I know damn well there won’t be one.
Now to avoid seeing them until I can weasel my way out of this.
Faking my death is looking more and more attractive.
“Sorry we’re only now celebrating. We’ve been so busy remodeling the guest house with Marcus and Heather.” Her eyes dart over our faces with all the enthusiasm of a town gossip. “We even added a nursery.”
I snort. “Unsurprising, given how much those two bone.”
Do I sound bitter?
Carrie purses her lips, confirming that I do, and I instantly feel bad for it. I’m beyond happy for my cousin and his wife, but I’ve had a front-row seat to watch their love story unfold, all while suffering one failed relationship after another.
Dad asks my sister about her latest endeavors as his market analyst for the international branch of his company, while I bite the inside of my lip to hold back a groan.
We get it. You’re smart, beautiful, and have a stable relationship with Mr. Perfect—and shocker, he’s Dad’s second-best developer.
Which means she remains his golden child, office love affair and all.
All right, the truth is, I’m happy for her. But it’s exhausting being the one whose accomplishments always pale in comparison.
She’s studious and level-headed, and I’m a freethinker who doesn’t like being told what to do.
The longer I listen, and the wider my parents’ smiles grow, the more agitated I become. Dad’s dream was for us to work for him, but sitting behind a desk running data analysis sounds as enticing as using my eyeballs for pin cushions. So, I opted for communications–a degree that is now a useless piece of paper that only serves to remind me of a man I hoped to never see again.
“Did you get those links I sent you, sweetheart?” Dad asks.
I sit on my hands to avoid yanking on my itchy clothing. “Sure did. Can’t wait to dive in and get those brain juices flowing.”
He takes a sip of coffee, sitting forward with the kind of excitement I’d expect from a child, not a full-grown man. “Great, because I have a surprise for you.”
Oh, god. I pinch myself below the table to keep from cringing and force a smile. “I, for one, can’t wait to hear this surprise.”
Carrie shakes her head, mumbling just loud enough for me to hear, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Those classes are only one part of a three-day business conference.” He’s absolutely vibrating with joy when he adds, “And I decided to buy the two of us all-access passes for the entire weekend!”
“What? Dad, that’s amazing,” Carrie says, eyes wide as she leans closer.
“I’m sure you’ve already looked through the syllabus.” I absolutely have not. “But Harvey Perrin is presenting the Principles of Marketing course.”
“Shut up,” my sister says, slapping the table. “Okay, now I’m jealous.”
There’s a proud gleam in his soft gray eyes that I desperately want directed at me. So I dig deep, searching the rusty files in my mind for this Harvey guy’s identity.
“Oh! That’s the guy from the Gorilla energy drink commercials, right?” I beat my chest with my fists. A flawless imitation, really.
But my snorting laugh fades awkwardly when I’m met with blank stares from all three of them. “Must’ve been the other Harvey.”
I lower my arms as Dad clears his throat, obviously trying to be polite, but I don’t miss the amused looks he and Carrie exchange. “No, Doctor Harvey Perrin. The man who invented the data analysis software we use for our applications at Triggerz. It’s an outstanding system, and I can’t wait to pick his brain about it.”
My gaze volleys between them as they carry on about all things technical, which leads to more business jargon that goes right over my head.
“I’m honored, Dad, truly,” I say, interrupting their fangirling, “but don’t you think Carrie would get more use out of something like this?”
“Nonsense, sweetheart. This is a perfect opportunity for you to grow your love for business. And who knows, maybe this conference will finally convince you to come work for me.”
He flashes a pearly white grin around the edge of his coffee mug, but all I can manage is a pathetically weak, “Maybe…”
“All right, enough about that,” Mom says. “We’re here to celebrate Penelope.”
“Yes, of course.” Dad grabs his champagne flute, and we raise ours to meet it. “To another year of success. We’re proud of you, Pen. And I know your thirties will be as fruitful as mine were because you’re just like your old man.”
He winks, and my cheeks are sore from the force of smiling. “Thank you.”
We give our server our orders when he comes back around, but a succession of booming clangs comes from the construction site across the street, making it impossible to stay focused on the questions they’re lobbing at me.
“Sorry,” I say, turning toward the skyscraping skeleton of what appears to be a future hotel. “What is that?”
Dad relaxes back with a heavy sigh. “Silas. I saw the Elite Properties sign outside the site when we drove up.”
The disdain in how he says his name pinches my gut with nerves. “I thought he stayed busy with his properties in Tauntuma. What’s he doing moving condos so far south?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him in, what, ten, eleven years?”
“Twelve,” I correct, earning a curious look. “I-I think so, anyway. But who’s counting? Not me.”
My cheeks burn as he gives a disgusted huff. “That lot was a residential area that had been on the island for the last forty years. But I suppose Silas always was the greedy type.”
“Shame we didn’t see it sooner,” Mom pipes up. “I’ll never forgive that bastard for trying to bring that luxury property mess to Augustine. He knew how sacred that land was to the locals—to us—and he damn well knew they’d never agree to it.”
I clutch my fork as memories bubble up like the acid roiling in my stomach.
The day that our fathers called their project quits, Logan lay with me in that damn barn. The one surrounded by those stupid, vibrant flowers that still remind me of him.
He was going to transfer to Stanford and graduate with me.
He was going to marry me, but only if I promised not to wear white.
He was going to build my dream home and make me a mother because he was adamant I’d be beautiful with a big, round belly, and I wanted that for us more than anything. The kind of happiness only found neatly tucked inside forever.
Then he slid his grandmother’s ring on my finger, and when he sealed those promises with a deep, tender kiss, I believed him with every beating fiber in my heart.
“It’s all water under the bridge now,” Dad says, waving a dismissive hand. “As long as he keeps far away from us, I’m happy.”
Definitely won’t be telling him about my little run-in with Logan, then.
The server brings our meals to the table, and Carrie side-eyes me when Dad asks for updates about my job at KlearComm—the one his name alone helped me get, and suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite.
Carrie swore not to tell them about our current living situation, but she’s not budging on her claim that they would understand.
After all that excitement he showed earlier, I’m hesitant to offer myself up on the chopping block. Still, it would be nice to come clean about it all.
It’s a risk, but in a desperate attempt to connect with them, I test the waters with a bit of honesty. “Actually, I-I don’t work for KlearComm anymore.”
Haven’t worked there for years—not that I’m going to tell him that.
The table falls eerily silent, with only the sounds of birds chattering and machines at Silas’s construction site whirring, clinking, and banging in the background.
Dad’s doing that thing he does where he pauses, choosing his words carefully. He sets his mug on the table and says, “No, that can’t be right. What could pay better than a position with one of the top-grossing communication companies on the island?”
My palms start to sweat when Mom sits forward, brows pinched with concern. “What happened?”
Carrie threads her pinky finger around mine under the table, offering a touch of reassurance that I gobble up like a starving child.
“I guess I just wasn’t happy.”
Dad tilts his head, genuinely perplexed. “Penelope. You can’t quit your job just because you’re unhappy.”
He says it so matter of fact—as if he can’t fathom not working day in and day out, or throwing his heart and soul into a majorly successful corporation like Triggerz. It’s his life’s purpose, and that’s great. Love that for him. But he doesn’t understand where I’m coming from because he doesn’t see the big, fat, glaring difference between the two of us.
I don’t have a purpose.
Mom places a hand on his shoulder, then flicks her wary gaze toward me. “I bet you’ve got a great new job, don’t you, honey?”
At each of their probing stares, I take a steadying breath, ready to unload every dirty detail, but instead, I opt for swiping a cheese biscuit from the basket on the table and cram it into my mouth like a squirrel.
Carrie’s palm connects with her forehead, followed by a collective groan from my parents, who immediately start talking over each other, not waiting for an explanation before throwing their opinions at me like darts.
Mom’s claiming I need stability ‘at my age’ and offering to move me back home to Augustine, while Dad’s going on about getting a long-term career where I can put the degree they paid for to use. I sit back, taking each blow to my fragile ego as I swallow the wad of dry biscuit in silence.
I know they don’t mean to gang up on me, but despite their concern coming from a place of love, their faithlessness in me still hurts.
Come work for me, Logan’s voice whispers in the wind.
Fuck you. Get out of my head.
But it’s the disappointment in their stares that eventually causes me to buckle.
If I agree to work for Logan, I can never tell them who I’m working for. That would be disastrous, given how Dad feels about his old friend Silas. Which means I’ll be lying to them. Again.
But if he was serious about doubling my pay, how long would I need to save enough money for a new place? Two, maybe three months tops? And I can suffer through the pain of working with my ex for my second family.
Once I’ve saved enough, I’ll find something new, and things will buff out just like they always do.
Right?
Right.
“Actually, I do have a plan, and have found a new job.”
Dad’s eyes light up the same way they had when the server delivered his crab legs. Then, as if remembering they were just berating me, he shifts in his seat and says, “That’s great, sweetheart. I want to hear all about it.”
“I accepted a position as the communications representative for um…” I search my memory for one of the enormous buildings surrounding the market I frequent. “Keerah Financial. Yup, that’s the one.”
Carrie nudges me under the table, and I nudge her back with a pinched smile.
“I don’t mean to brag, but the interview went splendidly.”
Dipping a stick of peeled crab meat in a dish of melted butter, I haughtily bring it to my lips.
And because I’m me, and being smooth is not a skill I possess, I promptly choke on the bite when Dad asks, “When do you start?”
Carrie pounds my back as I gulp mouthfuls of water, and I can sense Mom gearing up to hammer me with another question.
I open my mouth to say something, but before I can squeak out a word, a text pops up on my phone from Mr. Erikson. A reminder to get the rest of my belongings from the apartment as soon as possible, and a gentle push from my girl, Fate.
I bolt upright, eager to get as far away from here as possible.
“Speaking of work, I’ve gotta split.” My chair makes a break for it while my body slips into flight mode.
Avoid, avoid, avoid.
“Where are you going?” Mom pouts. “You haven’t even had any cake.”
“I’ve got some super important banking things to attend to, so…” I make a big show of waving my phone around, providing proof of said things while tripping over the chair. I laugh nervously before righting it. “Anyway, so great seeing you guys. Thanks for brunch, and sorry about the cake. We’ll have to do this again real soon.”
I give my sister a pleading look, silently begging her to keep them entertained, and her eyes narrow suspiciously before giving me a curt nod.
Yup. I’m definitely in for another lecture.
Blowing them all kisses, I promise to keep them updated on the new job, and then make a mad dash for the terrace exit.
They’re not going to question me. This is the flighty Penelope they know and tolerate. But the happy, carefree me slips a little further from reach by the time I reach my old apartment, where I take a hard look at its ruined, barren insides.
I trudge across the soaked carpet, gagging at the scent of mildew wafting from each step. Two boxes remain on the bathroom sink labeled ‘kitchen gadgets’ and ‘bathroom supplies,’ and when I gather them in my arms, I can’t meet my reflection in the mirror.
Waiting for the temp agency to find a new position will take forever. Hell, it took two months just to get an interview with Summit Estates. But if I’m not willing to rely on my family to bail me out, then I’ll just have to make some big girl moves.
Some very uncomfortable big girl moves, but thankfully, they’re only temporary.
I’ll work for Logan, get back on my feet, help the group home, and continue hustling side gigs while living my best fucking life.
I hope…