Irresistibly Yours - Lauren Layne Page 0,61
crazy,” Penelope repeated instead.
Not a total lie. Even with Cole as co-editor, the fast-paced world of Oxford was more than enough to keep her busy.
“Tell me you love it,” Janie demanded. “It’s the only way I’m going to let you stay in New York instead of inciting you to get your tiny, cellulite-free butt back to Chicago where it belongs.”
“I do love it,” Penelope said, as she sat down in her chair. A quick glance at the clock told her she had a few minutes before she needed to head out to meet Julie for lunch. “New York’s…crazy. But good crazy.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Janie said. “But please, please tell me you booked your flight for Fourth of July. You know I’m no match for mom’s overindulgence with the red, white, and blue food coloring without you.”
“Yup, was going to do that today,” Penelope said, pulling a sticky pad to her and writing Book flight home.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing her family in July. She missed them like crazy. It was just…
Well, oddly enough, Chicago didn’t feel as much like home as she thought it would at this stage.
It was like New York had very slowly, very subtly sunk its teeth into her.
Her phone beeped, and Penelope sighed. “Okay, there’s no way Mom doesn’t have some sort of radar for when we’re talking on the phone.”
She pulled her phone away from her face to check caller ID and froze.
It wasn’t her mom. Or her dad.
It was Evan.
What to do?
Her brain was screaming at her to ignore it. To send him straight to voicemail.
Her heart, on the other hand…
“Janie, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you back this afternoon, I promise.”
Her sister was silent for a moment. “Sure, that’s fine, but…you okay?”
No. Not even close. Don’t let me do this.
“Yup, totally. Talk soon.”
She switched over to the other call before her sister could catch on to the fact that Penelope’s heartbeat was thumping in overdrive.
“Hello?”
“Now there’s a voice I haven’t heard in far too long,” said the gravelly voice on the other end of the line.
She’d always loved Evan Barstow’s voice. It was a shame his first passion was sportswriting, because he had an awesome radio voice.
“Hi, Evan.”
“How you doing, babe?”
She swallowed. He sounded so…casual. As though the last time they’d talked, she hadn’t been fighting back tears as he’d delivered a double whammy of I took your job, and Oh, by the way, that kiss you tried to plant on me was awkward because I’m seeing someone.
“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m great.”
There, that was better. Less pathetic.
“How’s the New York freelance world treating you?”
“Actually, not doing that anymore. I took another job, with Oxford magazine.”
He paused. “The men’s magazine?”
“Yup.” The massive, household-name magazine, she silently added.
“Wow, that’s fucking awesome. Although they don’t have much in sports, if I remember correctly. A couple pages. You doing cologne reviews now or something?”
He laughed at his own joke, and her jaw clenched. Had he always been such a jerk? “Actually, they’ve recently decided to overhaul and expand their sports section, and brought me in to oversee the project.”
It was only a partial truth, since technically she shared the job, but she didn’t feel particularly bad about the semi-fib.
“How are things with you?” she asked.
“Good. They’re really good. Busy, which is actually why I’m calling, got a favor.”
Any hope that he might be calling to apologize went out the window. Of course he needed something.
She didn’t say anything, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Sportiva is looking to expand into New York, and they’re sending me out there to sort of do an initial scouting session. Knowing you, you probably did a ton of research about the New York sports scene before moving out there…”
Which you well know since you stole the last research I did.
“I was thinking I could take you out to dinner. Pick your brain a little.”
Penelope wanted to say no. Wanted to tell him to go to hell.
And yet, it felt…petty.
Plus, she wanted to prove—especially to herself—that she was over Evan Barstow, and the only way to do that…
“When are you coming out?” she asked reluctantly.
“Friday, actually.”
She blinked. “This Friday?”
“I know it’s last-minute, but figured, why wait, and…”
“Are you coming alone?”
There was a brief pause, and Penelope squeezed her eyes shut at what the question betrayed. “I mean, is Caleb or anyone coming with you or…”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “No, just me. Been getting used to my alone time now that I’m single again.”
Boom.