Playing at Forever - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,77

hand through his hair. Tommy, of course, needed little preparation. He always looked his best, no matter if in a t-shirt or a tuxedo.

“I’ll give you a few minutes then,”

She sighed as she readied herself, applying a new layer of makeup—this time trying to look livelier than she felt.

“Ready?” He asked as she stepped out of the trailer. It was hard to believe Christmas was less than a few hours away as she glanced around her, the fading California sun still warm and bright. She nodded, following him across the lot to where he had parked his car.

“We don’t have to stay long.” Penny nodded, hoping they wouldn’t. Her chest filled with dread as they pulled up to the club, which she could tell was definitely not her crowd.

The moment they walked through the door, Tommy was pulled away from her. He wasn’t exactly protesting as the wave of actors led him across the room and Penny sighed, having experienced something similar to this at the premiere.

Like she had done before, she mingled around the room, smiling and striking up conversations with a few people. She was grateful when she bumped into Ryan Wilson. “This isn’t the way I’m used to spending Christmas,” he told her as they settled on a couch. She took a drink of the beverage he had given her. “I’m used to snow and pine trees.”

“Same here. Well, except for the snow part. We only get that every once and awhile. But definitely pine trees. And lots of hot chocolate.” Penny agreed.

“That sounds pretty nice,” Penny closed her eyes, smiling softly as she thought about Christmases past. “Well, maybe next year.”

“Maybe next year,” she agreed again, nodding sadly.

“So, where’s that husband of yours?”

“Oh, he’s around here somewhere. He was swallowed up by a pack of rabid actors—and actresses—the moment we walked through the door.”

“He usually is, isn’t he?” Penny nodded. “He’s lucky he has you, though. I can tell that you really care about him.”

Was it that obvious?

“I do,” she finally admitted, nodding her head. She shifted her gaze down to her drink, thinking about what she had just said.

She did care about Tommy. Much more than she should, she knew. But she couldn’t help it.

Love was a crazy emotion.

“He’s a good guy, Penny. I know he’s got a few things going on, but he’s got a big heart.”

“Oh, I know,” she told him, nodding her head. Having this conversation wasn’t helping. In fact, it was only serving to remind her of how hopeless she actually was. “Hey, I’m going to run off and powder my nose. Any idea where the bathroom is in this place?” Ryan laughed, pointing her toward the stairs. “Thanks,” she told him.

She didn’t notice them on her way in to the bathroom, but as she stepped out, she turned her head at just the right moment.

Tommy was sitting on a couch, the lighting low.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

There, sitting on his lap, was a dark-haired girl, wearing a very revealing Santa-outfit. She had a leg on either side of him, her hands touching his chest, the top few buttons of his shirt undone as she kissed his neck.

Penny felt the tears in her eyes before she realized she was crying, the pain in her chest overwhelming.

And, to make matters worse, he met her gaze.

She took off down the stairs, hurrying through the crowd, desperate for an escape. “There you are—”

“Can you take me back to Tommy’s place?” She asked Ryan, her head spinning.

“Sure—is he—”

“I just need to get out of here, Ryan.” Ryan glanced over her shoulder, where Tommy was descending the stairs, the girl trailing behind him.

“Yeah, no problem, Penny.”

She made sure she thanked him for the ride as he pulled up to the house. The crowd of paparazzi hadn’t budged since she and Tommy had left this morning—but as she pulled up with Ryan, the flashes flared to life.

It didn’t even matter, though.

She was done.

She hurried upstairs, her eyes blurred with tears, dialing the number for the airport as she began to undress, taking the first flight they offered her.

The bed was cool as she climbed into it, her tears soaking into the heavy pillows.

It didn’t take long for the bedroom door to open. She heard him stumble into the room. Felt the weight of his body as he sat on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Pen.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

She could tell he was drunk. She remembered he and Graham sitting at a table, doing a round of shots.

“Nothing