Chapter 2 #2
Learning to maneuver through the city in the extended-length SUV took some practice, but now I drive through the traffic with ease.
The valet’s eyes widen when I pull up to the podium, but I toss him my keys and give him my information before following a skinny blonde woman wearing a dress with slightly more fabric than a napkin.
She leads me down a dimly lit hallway, through an overly crowded bar with a dance floor, strobe lights, and deafening music blaring from the speakers, and up a flight of stairs to the balcony.
Overlooking the main floor, the upper level contains several seating areas sequestered away from each other with thick curtains.
Unease spears through me, but I decide to meet with Samuel for the info I need before leaving.
The blonde pulls open the curtain to the last sitting area and gestures me inside before giving me an obvious once-over. Ice travels down my spine as she sizes me up like a prized bull. The approval in her eyes sours my stomach, but I give her a polite thank you and step through the curtain.
Samuel rises and greets me like always—with a half-hug and hearty slap on the back. His cologne clogs my sinuses but does nothing to mask the smell of alcohol on his breath and permeating from his pores.
Despite the empty liquor bottles lining the table and his flushed face, his mannerisms seem no different than normal.
Doubt creeps into my thoughts. He offers me a spot on the couch and settles back onto the cushion he vacated to greet me.
Seeing him lounging in a new, shady location as though he owns the place adds to my doubt.
Was I as blind to the changes in my friend as I was to the changes in his sister?
He leans forward and cracks open a bottle of water before handing it to me. I take it with a nod.
“Are you here alone?” I ask.
“Nah. The ladies needed a powder break, but they’ll be back soon. This is Cathy’s favorite spot. She’ll be excited you finally came,” he says.
I hide my grimace behind a swig of water.
Cathy Barbie, Samuel’s girlfriend, may be my least favorite person in his friend group, but he’s been obsessed with her since college, so I keep my mouth shut.
She had a thing for me when we first met, but when I made it clear I wasn’t interested, she latched onto Samuel.
“Before they get back, let’s talk shop. How’s the expansion going? Did you decide on the new location? Have you started hiring?” he asks as he pops the lid off a new bottle of booze.
I blink at his unexpected interest. Usually he avoids business talk unless he has something to brag about, then he steals the spotlight without much discussion on my life.
Maybe running into Penelope was the catalyst I needed to see how one-sided my relationship with her brother has become.
If a few targeted questions from him are enough to shock me, then what was I holding on for? Why did I meet with him every month?
Clarity slams into me like a freight train.
Penelope.
I met with him in hopes of catching a glimpse into her life.
I shrug the uncomfortable realization aside and answer him while giving away the least bit of information.
“Renovations on the new location are underway, but we’re still looking for a few key personnel. Speaking of, I heard your sister graduated from Columbia University.”
“What? No way, man. The scrawny runt went to some community college where she could do all of her classes online.”
“Your parents were okay with that? Her grades were—”
“Amazing, yeah, I know. A true pariah, that one. Apparently she went all goth and got a shit ton of piercings and was too embarrassed to show her face in public anymore.”
His description of Penelope lifts my hackles. Sure, she has a lot of piercings, but the jewelry and placement accentuate her natural, delicate beauty to perfection, and her wardrobe fit the casual weekend vibe. There was nothing goth about her jeans and T-shirt.
“Are you sure she didn’t go to Columbia?” I ask.
He scoffs.
“Like we wouldn’t have noticed her little midget body walking around campus?”
Exactly my thoughts, though I don’t like his choice of words. At all.
“When’s the last time you saw her?” I ask.
He shrugs and pours himself a glass.
“You’re not worried about her?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes.
“My parents see her all the time. They say she’s fine, so what’s there to worry about?”
Frustration and disgust war within me.
“What’s with the sudden interest anyway?” he asks.
“I need to hire a computer programmer,” I say.
His expression softens, and he leans back.
“Ah. Yeah, she was always a computer nerd. Not sure she’s what you’re looking for, though.
According to my parents, she’s happy with her work—and making enough money to spoil them with gifts all the time.
Every time I go home it’s ‘look what Penelope got us’ and ‘Penelope is so thoughtful’ and ‘our daughter is so sweet’ and never—”
A squeal splits through my eardrums.
“Oh my god, it’s Sebastian!”
I cap my drink and brace as Cathy launches herself across the space toward me.
Even though I refuse to stand and offer her a hug, she drops onto the couch beside me and wraps her talons around my arm.
I lean away from her and pat the back of her hand, but she wiggles closer and plants a kiss on my cheek.
The feel of her breast against my bicep fills me with discomfort. I peel her fingers off my arm and move closer to the armrest so our hips no longer touch.
She pouts before scampering off to her man. He welcomes her with open arms.
I don’t understand how he can be okay with her throwing herself at me every chance she gets, but the smirk on his face as she plasters herself to his side assures me he doesn’t mind.
“On the subject of new hires,” Samuel begins.
Cathy gasps and clutches his arm.
“Sebastian, you’re hiring?! I know the perfect male athletic model for your new products. You simply can’t say no. He’s perfect,” she gushes.
I tap my finger against the side of my water bottle and fight the urge to grind my teeth. After a shallow breath—the cloud of her perfume is strong enough to burn my lungs—I elect to humor her since it’s obviously what Samuel meant to lead up to.
“Oh? Who?”
“You might remember him, but probably not. He was in my graduating class in high school, but he chose a college out of state, so I lost touch with him until recently,” she prattles.
The plastic crinkles in my fist. I loosen my hold and take another sip.
With a shock, I realize Cathy started high school a year before Penelope, and since Penelope graduated early, they shared the same graduation ceremony.
I didn’t attend. Hell, I was so deep in passing my exams, supporting my mom and nana, and starting my business, I didn’t even realize I missed attending until a few weeks into summer break.
“Do you remember Michael Carlson? He was a linebacker. Tamsin had a crush on him,” Cathy continues as though I should know every person she’s ever come face to face with.
“No, I don’t remember him,” I say.
Her expressions falls, but she rubs her breasts against Samuel’s arm and simpers.
“My Sammy remembers him. His résumé is quite impressive now. He—”
I partially zone out, uninterested in hiring anyone who thinks they can get ahead off their friends’ backs, but guilt wriggles behind my sternum.
Last year, Samuel admitted he almost went bankrupt the year before but finally found a dependable client base and got himself in order. I had no idea he was struggling. I should’ve helped.
Giving his girlfriend’s recommendation a shot at an interview is my last act of kindness to make up for my shortcomings. No promises to hire him, though. After that, I owe my former best friend nothing.
“Have Samuel text me his information and I’ll ensure he gets an interview,” I relent when Cathy finally pauses to take a breath.
Sensing I won’t get an ounce of information from Samuel about Penelope, I excuse myself and make a hasty retreat.
After the valet creeps my car around the corner, parks beside the door, and hops down as though I asked him to drive a semi-truck, I hold back my exasperated sigh and thank him.
He strides to the podium as though he saved lives.
I chuckle, press the button for the seat, and wait for it to slide back and down for my pre-saved settings.
Checking the time before I shift into gear, I smile and back out of the parking space. I take a detour and park in an hourly lot before running into a few mom-and-pop shops near where I grew up.
I choose a few candies and muffins from the display case of the corner sweets shop and trek back to my SUV.
The entire drive home, my mind replays today’s interaction with Penelope, and when I pull into my dedicated parking spot, my cock throbs painfully in my trousers.
I growl, cover my face with my hands, and drop my head back for the second time in one day. I haven’t been this sexually frustrated in… ever. Even through puberty and with raging hormones as a teen, I never reacted so fiercely to anyone other than Penelope.
Maybe I should stop the background check I ordered and quit scrambling for ways to get closer to her.
I’m a self-proclaimed workaholic. Chasing after my ex-best friend’s little sister will take time and effort, more so than most relationships, if today’s run-in is any indication, which I don’t have.
She’s skittish—she always was—but the horror and fear I saw shining from her eyes underneath the table proves she has demons she didn’t have the last time we met.
Recalling her haunted expression dampens my lust and softens my cock.
The smell permeating from the treats in the back seat reminds me too much of Penelope’s sweet vanilla scent, so I exit the car and grab the paper sacks before locking up and striding across the parking garage.
I nod and thank the attendant when he recognizes me and opens the double glass sliding security doors before I reach them.