Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
ELIJAH
I make my way outside, where Lawrence, one of the company drivers, is waiting.
My phone beeps, signalling a news item.
“Home, sir?”
“Please, Lawrence.”
I sit back and unlock the screen, my eyes widening as I read the headline.
Penelope Dawson and Kristophe Lansdown call off their engagement.
I scan the article, but it offers no further information, only that they’ve asked for privacy at this time.
What the hell ?
It’s a month until their wedding.
What the hell happened?
I pick up the phone and dial Pen’s number.
There’s no answer.
I try again, only this time, it goes straight to voicemail.
Fuck.
My heart is racing as I pick up the phone and dial Kat’s number.
“Hello, big brother,” Kat says, not sounding at all surprised I’m calling her.
“You know?”
“Of course, I know. Pen’s one of my closest friends.”
“She was my best friend first,” I hear myself say.
Kat harrumphs. “How old are you? Before you answer that, may I point out you blew that friendship when you got your girlfriend pregnant and pushed her and everyone else you loved away,” Kat snaps.
I ignore her. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this argument.
“What happened, Kat?” I say, lowering my tone. “When I last spoke to Pen, she was all in. The whole nine yards—marriage, kids, settling down.”
My chest constricts, and I pause as I try to draw breath into my lungs.
“You need to ask Pen,” she says, her tone dropping.
“She’s not taking my calls,” I admit.
“You find out the same day everyone else does and call her, expecting her to simply pick up? Have you thought she might be busy, not want to speak to anyone?” Kat sighs. “Have you even tried to speak to her since she saved your ass?”
I stop. “I picked up the phone several times, but…” I say, realising how ridiculous I sound.
Of course, Pen doesn’t have to answer my calls. Why would she?
There’s a pregnant pause.
“I’ve fucked up,” I say.
“Don’t you dare hold a self-pity party! All I’m saying is Pen might have a reason for not answering. Think,” she says. “You, of all people, should understand that. Did you answer your phone when news of your divorce broke? Like hell did you.”
“I threw it in a drawer with silence mode on.”
“Exactly.”
I know she’s right. But it hurts to know I’ve lost my place in Pen’s inner circle. My siblings and mother now hold those positions.
“Are you okay?” I ask, realising Kat is behaving very out of character.
My sister is a straight talker but not usually this snappy.
I hear Kat inhale.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day. Shit is going down in one of our hotels. Actually, multiple hotels, and I’ve spent all day firefighting. That and like you, I’m worried about Pen.”
“I’m sorry, Kat,” I say, realising what a selfish prick I’ve been. “Is there anything I can do?” I ask.
My sister works even harder than I do, and that’s saying something. We’re both driven by that same internal force to succeed. As the oldest siblings, we’ve taken our parents’ work ethic to heart. Not that our younger siblings haven’t, but in recent years, they’ve gained the perfect work-life balance.
“No, I’ve got this.”
And I know she does.
“Just remember I’m here if you ever need me.”
“Thank you.” Kat pauses. “Elijah. If you speak to Pen. Don’t push her. She’s been back a few weeks. She’s trying to get back on her feet.”
“She’s what?”
“Oh shit.”
I can imagine Kat pressing her temples, wishing she’d stayed quiet.
“Look, she wanted to keep it quiet. They both did.”
“The man must be an idiot,” I hiss under my breath.
My sister lets out a frustrated grunt.
“Typical! How do you know it wasn’t Pen who walked away? Why do you assume it was Kris?”
Hope blossoms in my chest, and my heart rate picks up.
“I didn’t.” I run a hand down my face. “It’s not that. It’s just when we were talking she had everything planned out. Her entire future was mapped out in a way only Pen does.” I pause. My heart sinks. For Pen to have changed her mind, and that quickly, something must have happened.
“Is she okay? Damn it, Kat. Please.”
A sense of dread overwhelms me.
Kat sighs again.
“I just want to know she’s okay.”
“Why? Why do you want to know if she’s okay?” Kat presses.
I run a hand through my hair.
“She was my friend. I care about her. If she’s hurting?—”
“Pen has a lot of friends who are there for her.”
Kat’s words make me smart.
“I know she does,” I mumble.
“So why do you care?” Kat presses.
“Because I do.”
“Not good enough,” my sister’s voice snaps me out of my funk. “God, Elijah, for once, get out of your head.”
I drop back against the seat and watch the city go by.
“Why are you snapping at me?”
“Because…I want to know why you care. Say the first thing that comes to mind.”
I stare down at my phone and frown.
“You’re sounding like my therapist,” I tell her.
There’s a pause.
“You’re speaking to him again?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now tell me, why do you care?”
I close my eyes and rest my head back against the seat. My hand comes up and rubs the centre of my chest.
“Because it hurts to know she’s hurting.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone.
“She’s at her house,” Kat says. “And Elijah. Don’t fuck it up this time.”
“I won’t,” I say, although the line has already gone dead.
I lean forward and press the intercom, giving me access to the driver.
“Change of plans,” I say, giving him Pen’s address.
We leave the city and head south. Pen lives close to our family home. She fell in love with the area after spending her holidays with us, and as soon as she could, she bought her and her mum a home nearby, moving out of the city while I moved in.
We approach the gate. Last time, I had a fob to let myself in. I dial Pen’s number again, but still no reply.
I dial the only other number I can think of. This time, I get a response.
“Elijah Frazer. It’s late.”
“Hi, Louise, I just found out.”
“Ahh, my daughter’s been holding out on you.” There’s a pregnant pause. “Why are you calling?”
I look up and stare out the window at the gate, realising how impulsive I’ve been.
“I’m outside the gates,” I admit.
“I know. I can see you on the camera. Pen transferred the tech to my house when she moved to the US. She hasn’t taken it back yet,” she explains. “More the question is why are you outside her gates?”
Everyone wants to know why?
“I need to know she’s okay.”
“She’s not,” Louise says bluntly, all amusement gone from her tone.
“Let me in to see her,” I say. “Please, Louise.”
There’s another pause.
“If she doesn’t want to see you, promise me you’ll leave without a fuss.”
“I promise.”
I hear a buzz, and the line goes dead. The gate opens.
Lawrence pulls up outside the garage, out of the line of sight of the gates. The driveway might be long, but the paparazzi and their telescopic lenses... The last thing she’ll want is pictures of me arriving after dark.
I didn’t see anyone, but you never can be too careful. With any luck, they still think she’s in the US.
“Do you want me to wait, sir?”
“No, Lawrence, you can head off.”
If Pen doesn’t want me here, I’ll call a taxi.
He turns the car around and heads back down the driveway.
I inhale and make my way to the front door, ringing the bell. Its chime echoes through the enormous wooden door.
When there is no answer, I ring again and again. Louise said she’s here.
Is she choosing to ignore me?
The door opens to a flushed-looking Pen.
“Hold your horses,” she says, not looking up, her phone pressed to her ear.
“That should be it,” she says into the receiver.
There’s a pause as she listens to whatever the other person is saying.
Her features soften.
“It was the least I could do. Let me know if there are any issues.”
She finally looks up, her body tensing as her eyes lock on mine.
“Elijah.” The words are out of her mouth, surprise crossing her face.
Her attention is drawn back to her phone, to whoever is on the other end of the line.
“Sorry…Yes…Elijah is here.” There’s another pause. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later, Kris. But everything seems to be secure.”
Whatever he says to her has my stomach hardening at the look on her face.
“Yes. I will. Take care.”
She disconnects the phone and stares at me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“You weren’t answering your phone.”
Pen’s hair is scraped up in a messy bun. Her face is makeup-free. She’s wearing leggings and a sloppy sweater.
“I was working. My phone is on silent as it’s been blowing up all afternoon ever since the story broke.” She steps aside and ushers me in. “The press got wind of me leaving the country and then someone leaked about Kris and I. It’s been bedlam.”
“I wanted to check you were okay.”
“I’m fine. There’s no keeping this woman down,” she says, walking in front of me towards the kitchen. “Drink?”
“Coffee, please,” I say, following behind her and sensing everything about her is far from fine .
She looks like she’s lost weight, not that she had any weight to lose.
“One coffee, coming up.”
Her voice is a little too chirpy.
She puts on the coffee machine, heading straight for the cupboard, dragging out two cups, almost dropping one as she goes.
“Enough,” I say, capturing her arms and relieving her of the cups. “Sit down. I’ll make you a coffee.”
“I’m fine, honestly,” she says. “I’ve been working.”
“You’re not fine, so stop saying you are. You’re wired to hell. I recognise the signs.”
“You don’t know me,” she says, flopping down into a seat. “Don’t pretend you do.”
I turn, hands on my hips.
“I know you better than you think I do,” I tell her. “When did you last sleep? Eat?”
It’s then I notice the dark circles under her eyes.
“As I said. I’ve been working.”
“Twenty-four-seven?”
Pen shrugs. “I’ve slept.”
“What? When you’ve crashed?” I huff. “What happened, Pen?”
She drops her head into her hands, her fingers in her hair. As if remembering it’s screwed up, she sits up and pulls out the hairband, allowing it to cascade down her back before scooping it up and returning it to another messy bun.
“Why are you here?” she asks, slumping back in her kitchen chair.
I watch her closely as the coffee machine gurgles behind me.
“I heard about you and Kris. I wanted to check on you.”
“Well, you’ve done that.” She holds her arms wide. “Look. I’m in one piece.”
I growl.
Stubborn woman .
She screws up her nose and plays with a speck of invisible flint on her leggings.
“Why are you really here, Elijah?”
Her tone is matter-of-fact, but her face displays a protective filter. One I recognise.
“Why?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and count to ten. “Why the bloody hell does everyone keep asking me why?” I say. “You’re my friend. You helped me out, and now your engagement is over. I care about you, Pen. I wanted to check you’re okay.”
“Don’t worry, Kris and my breakup had nothing to do with you,” she says, although something in her tone makes me think she’s lying.
I move towards her.
“The last time we spoke, you were about to get married, looking forward to starting a family. Now I hear your engagement is history and you expect me to accept you’re fine with it?”
Pen avoids my gaze, her arms folding over her chest.
I move towards her and crouch down in front of her.
“I only found out this evening. I came straight here.”
When I told Kat it hurt, I meant it. It physically hurts to think of her in pain. I want Pen to be happy. What she wanted with Kris does not differ from what Leah and my brother wanted. What Caleb and April now have.
I’ve had a front-row seat to crushed dreams so I know they’re not something you just bounce back from. Working with my therapist, I’m not sure I ever did. Instead, I became withdrawn and cynical.
“Why are you really here, Elijah?”
Her voice sounds so soft and small, not something I recognise and I hate it.
“Kat says you’ve been back a few weeks.”
“I have. I’ve been trying to get my life back on track. You know me and my plans. I needed to reconfigure my lists,” she says, trying to keep her voice light and neutral.
“Pen…”
She holds up a hand.
“Don’t,” she mumbles, her voice catching. “You said before if there was anything you could do for me?”
“That still stands, anything. You just have to ask,” I say, without missing a beat.
If there is something I can do to set her life back on track. Even if it means speaking to Kris, I’ll do it.
“I need you to leave. Walk away. Let me get on with my life.”
I let out a groan and drop my chin to my chest. My forehead resting on her knees.
“Anything but that,” I say, unable to keep the pain from my voice. I raise my head, my eyes clashing with hers. “That’s probably the only thing I can’t do.”
Pen opens her mouth to speak.
“Please don’t ask me to walk away,” I beg.
A tear tracks its way down her cheek.
“I—”
Her eyes lock on my mouth and before I can stop myself, I take her head in my hands and draw her lips to mine.