Playing at Forever - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,59
quickly, trying to use whatever excuse possible. The last thing she wanted to do was spend Thanksgiving with Tommy and her parents.
“I was just watching one of your old plays the other day, thinking to myself, who would have thought after all these years—”
“Wait, you were watching one of the old plays?” Penny suddenly had a very good idea. Why hadn’t she remembered that her father had recordings of every play she and Tommy had been in throughout high school? “Hey Dad, do you think you could send me a copy of our last one?”
“Romeo and Juliet?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” She leaned against the kitchen counter, ideas spinning to life.
“Sure, kiddo, I’ll get a copy in the mail today.”
“Thanks,”
“Hey, you let us know if plans change for Thanksgiving, Penelope. It’s been too long since we’ve seen you!” Her mom sounded so sincere. Penny felt her chest fill with guilt.
“Okay, Mom, I will. Listen, I’ve got to go—Amy should be here any minute now.”
“Alright, you give everyone our love!”
“Bye, guys. Love you!” She smiled as she hung up the phone, suddenly very excited. After all Tommy had done to help Penny—maybe, at last, there was some way she could return the favor.
Amy arrived a few minutes later, right on time. “I brought in the mail for you. Figured it was easier for me to get it than for you to.”
Because even just walking down to the mailbox, Penny had to make sure she looked her best. “Thanks,” she took the small stack and flipped through it. “Oh look, what’s the latest rumor about me?”
Penny had subscribed to a few of the gossip magazines only to keep tabs on Tommy when he’d started showing up in them. But now that she was included in the gossip…
Her attention focused on the cover of the magazine. Rebound! It claimed in big, bold letters. Latest Davis girl left by husband for pregnant mistress. The picture was one of the ones the paparazzi had taken when they’d first arrived. Her eyes were red from a bad combination of tears and whiskey, her expression a mixture of sadness and fear.
She sighed loudly, tossing the magazine into the trash. Amy peeked at the headline before shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it, Pen. Nobody takes this trash seriously.”
“Sure,” Penny nodded her head, though she most definitely didn’t agree. Hadn’t it only been a couple of months ago that she and Amy had been staring at the cover of some magazine, talking about Tommy’s life?
“Besides, who cares what they think anyway? You’re the one living this fairytale. Don’t let them get to you.”
If only it were that easy.
Chapter Ten
It was probably one of the most hectic days of her life. They had arrived in L.A. early that morning—the sun hanging low in the morning sky. She couldn’t help thinking back to the last sunrise she’d watched, laying there with Tommy.
That had probably been one of the most romantic nights of her life.
Such a shame it hadn’t meant anything.
They had gone back to Tommy’s house and eaten a quick breakfast, Penny catching a quick catnap before a very persistent knock sounded at the bedroom door.
She had barely even turned the knob when Diego blew into the room, impossibly more fervent now than he had been last time. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Sleeping?” She responded, suddenly very confused.
“This is no time for sleep, sweetheart. We’ve only got eight hours to get you ready—”
“Only?” She was now very, very confused. How could it possibly take her eight hours to get ready for one evening?
“You—get in that shower right now.” He ordered, pointing her toward the bathroom. Penny felt her brow furrow as she began to dread whatever was to follow.
In the end, though, she found it was entirely worth it. He had brought over several different gowns—the first decision to be made, he said, although he hadn’t really given her much choice before waving them all away and settling on a strapless one of deep purple that hugged her curves just the right way. Diego knew best, and there was no questioning him, she realized.
Next had come the parade of stylists. First the hair, then the nails and makeup.
She had no idea any one of those could take so long.
Then had come the shoes. She had never tried on so many shoes in her life—one pair after the other. It seemed like a lot of effort to waste on something nobody was even going to see.
Finally, the jewelry.
Diego chose each piece