Chapter 9
Logan
Penelope huffs, hips swaying seductively with her palms free of ink as she exits the restroom in the downstairs lobby.
Guess she’s still mad about what I said.
I push off the wall, eyes drawn to every elegant curve of her ass as she walks in front of me. “Remind me to add a clause for excessive huffing to our agreement.”
“Go ahead,” she says when we push through the front doors. “I’ll just find another way to annoy you.”
Despite the irritation coating her too-sweet tone, I smirk. “Indeed.”
The afternoon sunlight battles for space inside the concrete jungle, shining off glass windows and gobbling up shadows being cast by the surrounding building.
Already, I’m missing Honey Hollow and the simplicity of the harbor. I’d take that fresh ocean air and the sight of Mount Serenity, with its billowing clouds of white smoke, over the staticky white noise of a busy city any day of the week.
I give a subtle wave to Javier, who waits patiently beside my black SUV in a neatly pressed black-and-white uniform.
“Good morning, sir.” He steps away from the car, greeting us with a curt nod before promptly opening the back passenger door.
“Javier.”
He smiles politely at Penelope. “May I have your name, miss?”
Her brows furrow when she peers up at me.
“What? Did you think I was going to make you walk to the meeting?”
“Logan wouldn’t, but Mr. Anderson? I wouldn’t put it past him.”
She says it like she’s comparing the old me to a monster. As if she doesn’t recognize the man I’ve become, and I don’t like what that’s doing to me. The way it makes me question the life I’ve been living without her.
Penelope switches the glare she was giving me to a brilliant smile. “Thank you for driving us today, Javier.”
He glances between the two of us curiously, and I shake my head when he offers a curt bow. “You’re welcome, miss.”
“Oh, you can call me Penelope.” She pats his arm in that no-boundaries way of hers. “All that formal stuff makes me itchy.”
“Yes, Penelope,” he says, sweeping his arm in a gesture for her to take a seat.
His mustache twitches with humor when he turns to me.
“Don’t ask,” I grumble before sliding onto the bench seat across from Pen.
As we drive toward Adventure Park, she clicks various switches, both brightening and dimming the lights inside the car before digging around the compartments on the side of the door. “Whoa. This is nifty.”
“You’re not used to this sort of thing?” I ask, genuinely confused, given her family’s wealth.
“Nah. I’m not one of those fancy bitches—ooh!” Her entire hand dunks into one of the built-in snack containers, marveling at the tiny red candies she finds.
Cinnamon chews. Her favorite.
“Okay… this… is a nice touch,” she mumbles between shoving gobs of them into her mouth.
The moan she gives when she flops back against the seat has me shifting uncomfortably. But a thread of satisfaction feathers through me to know I’ve made her happy, even briefly.
The longer I watch her, the more suffocating the car becomes, filling with questions which start to strangle me. What have I missed while we’ve been apart? Who has the girl I once knew become?
Curious, my gaze falls to her hand.
She swallows the last of her bite, eyeing me skeptically. “What?”
I reach for her fingers after scooting to the edge of my seat, and nearly shudder from the contact.
“Logan, stop it.” She tries to retract her hand, but I hold it firmly, stomach rolling.
Just as I feared, every one of her nails are chewed to the quick, and various cuticles bear tiny scabs, while others are red and angry.
“Something bothering you?” The question’s rougher than I intended, fracturing a piece of my stony fa?ade.
Yes, her fiery gaze shouts.
“No,” she says instead.
We’re face to face, close enough that I can count her steady breaths, scent the spice on each exhale, and hear the soft rustle of her skirt when she moves.
My parents weren’t the touchy-feely type, something Penelope knew from one of many secret conversations inside a dark, dusty barn. But she never used to mind whenever my hand sought hers or when I intentionally sat too close, just so our knees or shoulders would touch.
Straight, pretty teeth grip her bottom lip as that same urge to touch her surfaces.
Except, I want to feel more than a passing brush of hands.
I want to feel her.
“I thought you would have dropped the habit by now.” My voice is strained, gritty.
Get it the fuck together, man.
Her gaze falls to my chest with a touch of sympathy. “Some habits are harder to break than others.”
My body goes unnaturally still.
Over the years, I’ve been careful to keep the gnarled, ugly marks hidden—both physical and otherwise—but did I honestly think she would forget the young boy who’d rather feel pain than stand up for himself?
I release her, settling back against the seat in grim silence.
For all the things that have changed between us, the fact that she can read me so easily, clearly, has not.
“We have business to discuss.” It takes pure willpower not to fidget beneath her probing stare, and I smooth my palm down the front of my silk tie in an effort to hide my unease.
Dad always said my lack of a poker face and ‘soft’ heart were my biggest weaknesses, and it took one instance of losing him a deal because I couldn’t keep my composure to learn I needed to fix them both.
“As a newer business, Summit Estates needs sponsors to help fund advertising, marketing, and networking. Your job today is to help me secure a partnership with one of Keerah’s top-grossing attractions, Adventure Park.”
“Wait, you want my help?” Her knee starts to bounce. “I didn’t know this was a sink or swim type of situation.”
“What better way to learn than to be motivated by sharks?” Reciting my father’s words is easy to do when they’ve been seared on the inside of my skull.
“That’s cute,” she quips. “Did you find that little nugget on the end of a popsicle stick?”
Smartass.
“Are you always so lackadaisical?”
“I don’t know what that means, but I’ll assume it’s ah-maz-ing,” she retorts. “And the answer is yes, yes, I am.”
“It means that, obviously, you don’t take shit seriously.”
Penelope tilts her head. “Should I borrow the stick you have shoved up your ass or…?”
I nearly crack a smile. “Have you been looking at my ass, sunshine?”
Her mouth pops open, then shuts, and when she eventually responds, she turns toward the tinted window. “I just think you need to relax. Try living a little.”
We sit in silence for the last leg of the ride, passing curious gazes back and forth that neither of us can hide.
“I assumed you sold it.” Accusation is heavy in my tone when I spot her absentmindedly rubbing the pad of her thumb across her right ring finger.
She guiltily clamps her hand between her knees, and I school my expression as if giving her my grandmother’s ring all those years ago was no big deal.
But it was… It really fucking was.
“I’m not surprised you think so little of me, given how easy it was to throw me away.” She has no idea how wrong she is, but she charges on, letting anger fuel her. “It’s okay to admit that I was just another fling for you. That my virginity was just another notch on your bedpost.”
I match her disdain with vibrating intensity. “If you honestly think that’s what I wanted from you, then you’re not as smart as you look.”
There’s no sense in denying that I wanted Penelope’s body back then, because I did. Hell, I still fucking do. I was out of my mind crazy for her, craving whatever affection she would give me—and it may not have been much, but I gave her everything I had in return.
Including that ring.
“When did you become such a jerk?”
That one question slips past my barriers, finding its mark.
Instead of arguing with her, I steal myself and relax my head back against the seat. Because she’s right, I am being a jerk, but twelve years of unrelenting grief has made this soft heart bitter.
Javier guides us through the gated entrance of the park before parking in front of a set of enormous wooden doors. They’re tall enough that the trees behind them barely reach the top. Arching above the enclosure, in bold red neon, is a sign that reads, Adventure Park.
“Oh, hell no. I’ve seen this movie, and I’m not about to be eaten by a dinosaur,” Pen mutters so close to the window that the tip of her nose touches the glass.
Mist ominously pours over the enclosure as I step out of the SUV.
I help Penelope out next, making sure she’s steady on the dirt and gravel drive. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
When the gates part, a man in cargo shorts, a matching khaki top, and boots steps out of a cloud of smoke with a broad smile and extended arms.
“Mr. Anderson. I’ve heard so much about you from your father. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His British accent makes Pen smile instantly, and the grin he awards her is far more chipper than the one he gave me. “And who is your guest?”
“George, this is Miss—”
“Wimbledon,” she blurts, cutting me off. “I’m the assistant.”
I blink at her, confused. I’ll be getting to the bottom of that later.
“Ah, well, you know what they say… Behind every great man is an even greater assistant.” He winks at me before reaching for her hand, and I grit my teeth. “George Parsons, at your service.”
She purses her lips thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t have any relation to Meredith Parsons, would you? Sweet little lady with curly pink hair?”
“Why, yes, that’s my mum. How did you…?”
“Luna Hibiscus, her signature flower.” Penelope touches the flower patch adhered to the collar of his shirt. “She gave me one just like this for helping her with her garden last summer.”
“That was you?” he asks, astonished. “Well done. I’ve heard they can be quite a pain to grow.”
Unsurprising, the man is charmed by her, and I wish I could say I hadn’t purposefully planned it this way, but Pen has a natural way of connecting with people that I’ve always envied.
Today, I wanted to put her strengths to the test, and for my sake, I hope that decision pays off.
George is busy blinking stars out of his eyes when I nod toward the front office. “Shall we?”
I casually nudge Penelope away from his lingering gaze.
“Actually,” George says, gesturing to the lush greenery beyond the gates. “I’ve got a special surprise for the two of you.”
Pen gasps, slapping my chest with childlike excitement.
I rub the spot, narrowing my eyes on the man. “What kind of surprise are we talking about?”
“We’ve been testing our newly installed zip line tour, and you two get to be the first to witness it in action.”
I recognize that adventurous flare in her eyes before she utters a word.
“We’re not here to play,” I grit.
“Live a little, remember?” She shoos me with a dismissive wave. “You brought me here to help you work, so let me.”
She has a point, but I grumble at her back, anyway.
Unaware of our bickering, George continues, “As I’m sure you’re aware, Adventure Park is home to some of the most exciting attractions on the island, and we’re always working to enhance the thrill for our guests.”
I clench my jaw when he takes Penelope’s arm in the crook of his elbow, but I see right through his generosity with every sidelong glance at Pen’s figure in that skirt.
Fucker better mind those eyes if he knows what’s good for him.
Inside the park, the earthy aroma of wet rocks and mud combines with the leafy, peppery scent of enormous tropical flowers. Their bright orange and red hue make a stunning contrast to the manmade river gliding past the trail from a massive, blue-white waterfall.
A group of tourists in bright green kayaks paddle downriver, waving at us as we take a flight of stony steps up to a building with a platform that overlooks the park.
“If we reach an agreement, I believe you’ll find our twenty-acre zip line jungle tour can serve as a marketable attraction to promote Summit Estates.”
An area filled with stacked lockers and changing rooms stretches out before us.
Dressed in Adventure Park-provided outfits, children and their families board a metro-style train that’s partially shaded by tropical palms and monstera leaves. The rail system spans the expansive jungle, suspended midair by metal columns, allowing passengers to travel through the treetops and enjoy a view of the lush canopy below.
“This wall would be the perfect spot for one of our banners, don’t you think?” Pen asks me before framing the vacant space between the two changing areas with her thumbs and pointer fingers.
“Oh. Well, those spots are prime real estate.” George scratches the back of his head, flicking his gaze between us. “Usually reserved for larger, more established corporations.”
“Are you suggesting that Summit Estates isn’t prestigious enough for a prime spot?”
I do nothing to stop my spreading smile. I didn’t expect her to pounce so quickly, but I’m thoroughly enjoying the show.
“No, no. Of course not. It’s just, being a newer company—”
“Because this is a mutual agreement, after all, and I would hate for Adventure Park to miss out on the kind of publicity an entity bearing the Anderson name could provide.” She flicks up a brow in challenge.
“A-absolutely,” he stutters, glancing at me to gauge my response.
“Don’t look at me. You heard her,” I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets with a prideful grin.
Penelope peers around the platform, eyes landing on a map of the park beside the entrance for the train. “Mr. Parsons, are you taking volunteers, by chance, to test these zip lines of yours?”
My stomach clenches, but when I reach for her, she skirts out of the way.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“I feel, and I’m sure George will agree, that it may not be in our best interest to adhere Summit Estates to something we haven’t experienced for ourselves.”
“Ah, brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?” George snaps, more than happy to oblige my assistant’s rogue idea.
She gives him a wink–blinking both eyes accidentally. “Believe it or not, my most redeeming quality is my big, sexy brain.”
I’d argue it was those killer legs of hers and her equally killer figure, but sure, let’s go with brain.
“I can get you both a change of clothes if you don’t mind waiting here a moment,” George says.
“Absolutely. We don’t mind at all.”
Gripping her bicep, I spin her around the minute he’s out of earshot. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but we’re here for business, not to play silly games.”
“Pshh. Don’t be such a square, Logan.” Hiking a thumb to the forest surrounding us, she goads, “I understand if you’re afraid to lose, though.”
“I’m not falling for that.”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like I’m asking you to saw your arm off instead of taking the rest of the afternoon to have some fun.”
My shoulder blades pinch, imagining the lecture I’ll get if my father finds out about this. He’d tell me I was fucking around, wasting precious time and resources to run around like a child. He’d tell me it was risky and poor business behavior, and demand I go back to the office to look over those damn blueprints.
She glares at me, and when George returns, I see those wheels spinning behind her eyes.
“That’s okay, Logan. You stay here. I bet George would be happy to show me the ropes. Isn’t that right?”
Oh, she’s good.
“Um…” The man shifts his gaze as if there’s another fucking George around here, and my eyes roll. “Certainly. Not a problem.”
Penelope wrinkles her nose at me, placing the tip of her thumb on the point and haughtily wiggling her fingers.
When he hands the outfit to her, she offers a smile too innocent to fit a woman so full of mischief.
“All right. We’ll get changed, and Mr. Anderson, why don’t you wait for us over by the train?”
Why don’t you go fuck yourself, George?
I snatch the shirt, shorts, and shoes from his hands with a growl that startles the man into taking a step backward.
But Penelope bites her lower lip, too proud of herself when I lean in and say, “Game on, sunshine.”