Chapter 4
Sebastian Sterling
My heart thunders in my chest and pounds in my ears as I wait for Penelope’s response.
I fight the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear and trace her piercings with my fingertips as she studies the papers.
So much has changed since my last year of high school. I’ve changed. She’s changed. Even though I don’t know her story, it’s clear life has thrown much more than I could ever imagine at her while we were apart.
We may not have seen each other in fifteen years, but I remember her cues as readily as though they’re my own. According to the cute scrunch of her lips and the hard edge in her eyes, she’s made her decision, and it does not look to be in my favor.
Dread and misery rise from my depths.
“I have several conditions to add,” she says.
I exhale in disbelief.
She swings gorgeous, determined hazel eyes up to mine, and for a moment, I forget my own name. Forget my successes. Forget the long, sleepless nights and ruthless drive to become someone worthy.
Worthy of her.
Fuck.
I could never pinpoint what drove me so hard year after year. Yes, I love what I do and take pride in providing for my mother and grandmother, but there was always some part of me that knew there was more to it.
It was Penelope.
I didn’t plan to kneel in the hall, but I don’t regret it. I’d spend the rest of my life on my knees for her if that’s what she wants.
She wouldn’t believe me if I told her, though, so all I can do right now is ensure we stay close so I can earn her trust.
“Anything for you, sweet pea.”
For the briefest of moments, she melts. Her shoulders relax and eyes shimmer, but when she stiffens and scowls, I realize I slipped and overstepped. Again.
It’s going to be hard as hell to not use endearments when I speak to her.
“I won’t hold you to that until you hear the conditions,” she warns.
“I don’t need to hear them. I mean it, Penelope.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“I stand by my words. First cond—”
“So do I,” I interrupt.
She flinches as though I raised my hand to hit her. Her entire countenance shuts down, and she curls in on herself as though to protect herself from a blow, but two seconds later, she pops back up with a furious, hate-filled glare.
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Listen to me before you make grandiose proclamations,” she demands.
I swallow the painful lump in my throat and nod.
She takes a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest.
I yank my wayward gaze off her perfect cleavage, but the glimpse of her hard nipples outlined through her blouse has me fully aroused. My cock throbs hard enough to test the structural integrity of my trousers.
I hide my erection by leaning forward and weaving my fingers together on top of the table as I give her face my full attention.
“I’m listening,” I say.
My mouth waters as she takes a deep breath, but I use the iron will I’ve honed through years of negotiations and keep my eyes trained on hers.
“I will continue to conduct myself however I see fit after hours. This includes freelancing and potentially having competitors as clients,” she says.
I note her unwavering stare and hide my delight and surprise behind my poker mask.
“Continue,” I instruct without hinting at my thoughts.
She squints and flicks a skeptical glance down my body before continuing.
“My intellectual property will remain my own. Any code, program, system, etc., etc. that I create for your company will be filed through the proper channels by myself. I will claim full ownership and grant you exclusive permission to use if for a limited time of my choosing.”
A chorus of greetings sounds as the bride and groom step into the room.
“Any other conditions?” I ask.
“We will not hide our previous connections or the fact you offered me this job because my brother is your best friend,” she demands.
Ex-best friend, my brain insists.
Warning bells ring in my head at her sharp tone as she speaks her last condition.
Brennan Diamond, who has been a better friend than her brother even though we only reach out intermittently, calls for everyone’s attention and introduces the wedding planner.
I met Brennan in college and saw his determination to make something of himself, so when he dropped out of school, I kept tabs on him and helped him as much as he’d let me when he was in a tight spot.
Now his success rivals my own, but since we’re not in the same sectors, we’re not strictly competitors.
“Deal or no deal?” Penelope asks.
Her demands are preposterous. Ridiculous. Unhinged.
No other wildly successful business would allow an employee to claim intellectual ownership of what they build while working for the company; in fact, some would even say it’s corporate suicide, but I respond without an ounce of hesitation.
“Deal.”
She thrusts the folder at me. I take it from her outstretched hands.
“We can sign after you make the corrections,” she says.
“I’ll have them finished by tonight. Join me for—”
“No. This is the only time I’ll discuss business with you outside of normal working hours,” she says.
This isn’t the timid little girl I coaxed out of her shell through weeks of patience during my senior year; it’s a cutthroat, business-savvy professional who knows what she’s worth. I’d hate to go up against this woman in the boardroom, but I love the no-nonsense confidence emanating from her.
“Then let’s exchange contact information,” I say.
I pull my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, unlock it, and slide it across the table to her.
She eyes my home screen for a moment before flicking a glance at my face as though skeptical I meant to give her unfettered access to my device before she lifts my phone into her tiny, delicate hand.
She can have it all. I have nothing to hide from her.
Why has it taken me this long to get her number? I could’ve just asked her brother—or even her parents when I went to visit them—but I always worried I’d be overstepping. Maybe part of me also knew I would definitely cross the line if I had direct access to her.
And now I do.
Giddy excitement jangles within me, but I tamper it with a calm, pleased smile as I take my phone from her.
When our fingers brush, she jerks back and whacks her elbow on the edge of the table.
I reach for her but pull away before I grab her arm.
As she hisses and rubs her elbow, her watch reflects the overhead lighting.
Opposite the hand she wears her ring on, I notice how large the smart watch is on her dainty forearm for the first time. They sell much smaller models with the same functions, but if she stares at computer screens all day, I don’t blame her for wanting a bigger interface with larger script.
Brennan transfers control to the wedding planner. She thanks everyone and requests our patience throughout the next few weeks as they finalize everything for the wedding then announces she’ll guide us around the venue for a quick tour.
As Penelope stands, I slip the folder back into my bag and tuck my phone into my back pocket as I rise. She waves at the group of ladies gathering by the door and rushes to join them. I curb the urge to reach out for her and instead follow near the back of the crowd.
Her friends give me hard looks even after confirming I returned her ring to her.
I accept their scrutiny with humility by keeping Penelope’s look of terror when I crawled under the table to help her yesterday at the forefront of my thoughts.
She deserves all the friend and family support in the world.
As far as I can tell, none of the ladies mention the conversation we had after Penelope left yesterday, but I give them space when the planner pauses in the atrium to hand out pamphlets.
I use the moment of downtime to send an email to my lawyer.
Tagging it as both important and urgent ensures he’ll complete the contract adjustments within twelve hours.
We resume the tour and stop in the ballroom where the ceremony will tale place.
Disappointment dampens my spirits when the wedding planner asks the couples to one side and the singles to the other to pair us by height for the procession and photos.
She’ll probably pair me with the tallest woman—the leader of my lynch mob yesterday—but before the tall woman can step toward the singles side, Connor Pen grabs her arm and drags her to stand beside him on the couples’ side.
Even so, I must be around two feet taller than Penelope. The probability of us being paired is frustratingly low.
Except, a glance around at the other single male members of the party shows they all have somewhat similar heights. Sure, I’m a few inches taller than the tallest guy, but any of us standing next to Penelope will highlight how small she is.
I don’t want anyone else standing beside her.
She flicks a wary glance at me when I step toward her, but I pivot my body—blocking her from almost everyone’s gaze—and offer her my hand.
“Will you be my partner, Penelope?”
Her eyebrows shoot up and surprise rounds her tempting lips. She blinks and searches my face before glancing around at our surroundings.
“Wh-what? Are we back in high school or something? This isn’t prom, and even if it were, we wouldn’t—”
“I wanted to ask you as a friend, but your brother was against it. I went as his third wheel and regretted not having you by my side ever since. Will you walk beside me now, sweet pea?”
“Is he picking on you again?” the tall woman demands from beside me.
Alarm spears through me as the color drains from Penelope’s face. She lunges forward and grabs my arm before tugging me toward the couples’ side.
“No, not at all. His request is completely reasonable. I don’t mind.”
I stop in the middle of the aisle, halting her progress.
When she jerks to a halt but doesn’t look up at me, I say her name. She cranes her neck and meets my gaze.
“You don’t have to accept if you don’t want to. Don’t let peer pressure—”
“My answer is yes, Sebastian. I’ll be more comfortable with someone I know, and you’re so big you’ll block me from half the attendees, so it’s a win-win situation in my opinion. Don’t question me.”
Pride and delight sweep through me. Her friend nods and offers her a smile before spinning on her heel and stomping back to Connor.
I stand as still as I possibly can and soak in the feeling of her small body pressed against mine. The way she clings to my arm fills me with yearning and an odd sense of power. I’ve never wanted to claim, protect, and cherish someone as much as I do Penelope right now.
She slowly relaxes as the attention shifts off her, but I rest my hand over hers before she pulls away, and to my surprise, she doesn’t balk.
For a few wondrous moments, we stand together as a couple, and I can’t describe how right it feels. The drive to do better, to be better, to go harder and faster and become the best of the best, slips into the background as I focus on enjoying Penelope’s nearness.
To my dismay, the wedding planner announces the end of today’s rehearsal—the bride and groom still have a few key elements to decide on before we practice our procession—but encourages us all to stay for dinner.
When Penelope eyes the back door with envy, I pat the back of her hand and step away, sensing her need to escape, but angle my body in front of hers before she darts away.
She glances around and pales as she notices several of her friends watching us with concern. I get straight to the point so she can leave.
“My legal team will have an updated contract tomorrow morning. How soon can you start?”
She pulls her lip ring into her mouth as she considers. I silently promise to cut off my dick if he embarrasses her right now, which mostly works to curb his enthusiasm.
“Tomorrow afternoon. Send me the location, required documents, itinerary, and my liaison’s information, and I’ll be there at one thirty,” she says.
“I am your liaison, Penelope,” I respond.
She squints.
“No, you’re the founder and CEO. I need contact info for who I’m meeting tomorrow,” she demands.
“Me. You’re meeting me. We’ll sign the contract in my office, you’ll spend a few hours at orientation, then I’ll introduce you to everyone you need to know.”
She opens her mouth but closes it again. Objections and questions grow within her gaze, but so does unhappy resolution.
“I thought you’d prefer I introduce you to your coworkers since you don’t want to hide our history, but if—”
“Not our history; our connection.”
I know she means our intertwined past through her brother, but I smirk at the intimacy implied by her choice of words. It sounds as though we share a special bond between us.
Her eyes widen, and a blush colors her cheeks.
“Connections. With an s. Not connection. I misspoke. Our connections,” she insists.
Fucking hell, she’s too cute when she’s flustered.
“I stand by my words, sweet pea, but yours will work for now, too. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” I say before stepping around her and making my excuses and exchanging farewells with the groom-to-be.
Brennan doesn’t ask, but his furtive glance between me and Penelope speaks volumes. I clap him on the shoulder and lean in to whisper my congrats.
They haven’t announced it yet, but by the glow around him and his fiancée—and her vomiting yesterday—they must be expecting. Brennan’s proud smile and the way he tugs his woman closer to him is confirmation enough.
I leave without a backward glance, afraid my cock will spring to life if I lay eyes on Penelope again, but glimpse her at the edge of my periphery when I turn into the hall.
My fear becomes reality as I catch her staring at my ass.
Wearing jeans has never been so painful.
I smirk but lengthen my stride and focus on the path in front of me.
Penelope Miles is now my future.
Tomorrow she’ll sign an employment contract, but that’s only the beginning. I’ll do whatever it takes to pull her into every part of my life.
Penelope Miles is the hidden obsession of my heart. She’s my muse. My comfort. My world.
I’ll earn her trust, vanquish her demons, and spend eternity with her by my side.