Irresistibly Yours - Lauren Layne Page 0,78
for coming,” she said quietly.
“Please,” Janie said, reaching across to squeeze Penelope’s arm. “You think we wouldn’t both jump on a plane the second you called us? You think we didn’t have to practically handcuff Dad to his La-Z-Boy to prevent him from going after Cole with a shotgun?”
Penelope gave a small smile at the thought of her gentle father even swatting a fly. He hadn’t been able to come with her mom and sister because of work, but he’d called her twice a day, trying to distract her with every possible bit of sports trivia on the planet. She knew every fact before he said it, of course, but the distraction was welcome all the same.
Anything to keep from crying again.
Penelope had made it all the way home from the hospital on Sunday without shedding a tear.
But once inside the safety of her apartment? Waterworks. The tears had come hot and furious, and hadn’t stopped until sometime around 4:00 A.M. on Monday, at which point she texted her sister.
By Monday night, her mother and sister had descended upon New York in full mother hen/warrior mode.
It was now Wednesday evening, and the tears had grown more intermittent, although she’d had a breakdown in the women’s restroom at work today. Jo, Oxford’s sweet receptionist, had patiently stroked her hair before rigging up an awkward ice pack for Penelope’s puffy eyes.
It hadn’t worked. Penelope was pretty sure Lincoln and Jake were on to her. Cassidy too.
As for Cole…
She hadn’t seen him. Not since his See you around, Pope send-off.
He’d taken the week off to get Bobby settled, but he’d be back on Monday. Penelope was counting the days, half in dread, half in hopes that he’d show up and it would be like their fight had never happened.
“No word from him?” Janie asked, pulling Penelope’s beer out of her hand and taking a sip.
She shook her head. “No. Do you think I should call him?”
“Absolutely not,” her mother said. “The ball’s in his court. He’s the utter fool here.”
Janie nodded. “I’m not saying he doesn’t get a little bit of a free pass because of what happened with his brother, but he still owes you an apology. And he needs to initiate it.”
Penelope stared blindly at the fishbowl, where Edgar swam in aimless circles. “That would be all fine and good if we didn’t work together. What am I supposed to do when he shows up on Monday?”
“Well, one thing’s for certain, you have to look fabulous,” her mother said. “Which reminds me, I want to take you shopping. Your closet is eighty percent sports outfits.”
Sports outfits?
Penelope and Janie exchanged a tired look. Their mother wasn’t superficial—not quite. But Lydia Pope was definitely of the mind-set that a nice fuchsia lipstick could solve most of the world’s problems.
“I’m pretty sure Cole cares about a lot more than Penelope’s looks,” Janie said gently.
“Well, of course he does,” Lydia said, indignant. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t show off her legs. Maybe get a nice push-up bra…remind him of exactly what he kicked out of his bed.”
“Mom, eeew,” Janie said.
“Do you have a better idea?” Lydia asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Janie said, handing Penelope her beer back. “You’re going to act like nothing happened.”
“Can’t,” Penelope said glumly. “I’m a horrible actress.”
“Well, that’s true, dear. Which reminds me, would you mind if I put up a video of that time you played the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz and then chased your tail because you thought it was on fire?”
“Mother,” Janie and Penelope said at the same time.
“What? It’s cute! And you two have banned me from naked pictures. I need something to post on Facebook. My fans are counting on me.”
“You know they’re friends, right. Not fans?”
“Mine are both,” Lydia said stubbornly. “I have a following. They rely on me for entertainment.”
“Did I say I was glad you came out to New York?” Penelope asked jokingly. “Because I changed my mind.”
“Well, it’s either the lion video, or I could do the fourth-grade talent show, where you—”
Penelope was saved from having to hear her mother recount a disastrous performance of Leader of the Pack by the buzzing of her intercom.
“Yikes,” Janie said, glancing at the ancient-looking box making the noise. “They still make those?”
“It’s an old building,” Penelope said, dragging herself off the couch. “I hope that’s the pizza.”
Her mother made a dismayed noise. “Pizza. I thought we agreed that I’d make a lovely salad—”
“Mom, I’m a vegetarian, and even I