Irresistibly Yours - Lauren Layne Page 0,17
accident. In my youthful ignorance, I didn’t understand that it was instinct for some people to freeze in horror when a softball came their way rather than catch it.”
“And your broken nose?”
“Sixth grade. Elbow to the face during a basketball game.”
“Tiny. You played basketball?”
She smiled. “Let’s just say it wasn’t my glory sport.”
He nodded as he took another sip. “It’s good. All good stuff you’re sharing here, Tiny. But I want to know the really good stuff.”
“Such as?”
Her expression went just slightly wary, and his interest was piqued. Was it possible Penelope Pope wasn’t quite the open book she pretended to be?
“How about we start with why you moved to New York, when best I can tell, you don’t know a soul and you’re destined for unemployment.”
Penelope flicked at Cole’s arm. “Don’t count on that last one. But as for the first…”
She sighed, and Cole felt the same pang of protectiveness he had that morning when she’d been standing there in her stained shirt, with those big sad eyes looking up at him.
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone else,” she said.
“But what will I talk about at girls’ night?” he asked.
“Ha. Ha. Okay, here’s the thing, Sharpe…”
She blew out a breath, took a sip of beer, and then spun her barstool around to face him.
“I’m sort of running away from a guy.”
Was she now.
He didn’t know why he could possibly be interested in Penelope Pope’s love life, but he kept his voice casual to coax her into continuing.
“Well, switching time zones isn’t a bad way to do it,” he replied.
“Yeah. That and…”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t chicken out on me now, Tiny.”
“We worked together. Sort of. We were both freelancers, but we did a ton of stories together. Our styles meshed well. Readers loved our good-natured bickering about who would win the Series, or who the top draft pick would be. The Chicago Tribune would bring us on for months at a time to cover everything from Sweet Sixteen to the Triple Crown…”
Cole wiggled his eyebrows. “You do know how to sweet-talk a man.”
Her smile was faint, and he nudged her with his knee. “So what happened?”
Penelope bit her lip. “Well, the thing is, I’ve always wanted to go in more of a digital direction. I mean, I love the newspaper, and the team at the Tribune was great, but I sort of geek out on the more interactive things that are happening on the tech front.”
“Smart,” Cole said.
She nodded. “Evan thought so too. He encouraged me. Hooked me up with a college friend who was heading this great start-up. Basically a social media site for sports lovers. They had a ton of investors, and they were looking for a director of editorial. I wanted it. I prepped for weeks. I talked to every tech nerd in Chicago, learning the lingo. I put together this amazing portfolio. I showed it to Evan, and he loved it….”
She tilted her head back. “Ah gawd, I was stupid.”
Cole frowned as he realized where this story was going. “He took your portfolio.”
She swallowed and nodded. “The thing is, I didn’t even know he wanted the job. He never said a word about it. If he had, I would have—”
“You guys were a thing?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I mean, I thought maybe, someday…I thought…well, I found out he had a girlfriend. The same day I found out that he’d interviewed for the job with my proposal.”
“Holy shit, Tiny,” he said, staring at her. “I feel like I just walked into a summer blockbuster and your guy Evan is the villain. Real people actually pull that shit?”
She rubbed her hands over her face. “Apparently. And that’s all we’re going to say on the matter.”
“Really? Because if you want to cry…”
She smiled. “I’m not going to cry.”
“You sure? Because I was ready.”
“To what, offer a shoulder?”
Cole reached across the bar and rapidly pulled out a half dozen paper napkins from a beat-up dispenser.
He held them out to her and smiled when she burst out laughing.
Penelope pushed his hand aside. “I’m over it. Really.”
He didn’t think so. But she had a stubborn, don’t-push-me look on her face, and it was hardly his place to press. He barely knew the woman.
“My turn for a question,” she said.
He gestured for her to continue.
“The Stiletto ladies,” she said, sucking a drop of blue cheese off her finger.
Cole felt his groin tighten and looked away. Get it together, man.
“What about them?”
“They’re…friends?”
He smiled. “Yes. Good friends.”
“So you never…” She wiggled