It was his mention of Colorado that caught my attention. Penelope had consistently brought up the fact that he flew back and forth from Florida every week.

I questioned the seller, asked him if he’d misspoken about Colorado, but he showed me the “gift” Simon recently dropped off for him as a thank you: A ‘Come Back to Colorado’ keychain with a snowy cabin backdrop.

It made me wonder what else he could be lying about.

As he posed for selfies with the security guard, my phone buzzed with text messages. Penelope.

Penelope: Hey. I’m torn between two dresses for your gala. What do you think? [img.] [img.]

Penelope: Also, I told Simon about how you typically have a special place reserved for me and you to talk when you’re bombarded with guests. I hope we’ll get those same minutes this year. We need to talk.

Penelope: Unless now is a good time? Simon has a few partners flying into town tonight. Please text me back.

My finger hovered over the images, but I couldn’t bring myself to open them; I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Deleting her messages, I put the car in drive as Simon slid behind the wheel of his Ferrari.

I watched him buy another bouquet of white and red roses, and then I followed him to John F. Kennedy International Airport, into the arrivals lane.

This would be my last stop, I told myself. I’d call Penelope the moment he and his other watch-borrowing stiffs rode into the city.

Keeping my distance, I waited for the group of suits he’d pulled in front of to get into his car, but they didn’t move.

Instead, Simon stepped out of the car and walked toward the zone doors.

Before he could make it inside, a brunette in a blue dress ran into his arms.

He kissed her like there was no tomorrow—grabbing fistfuls of her hair with one hand, cupping her ass with the other.

What the …

They were oblivious to the people around them, as if this was a terminal for two.

When Simon finally tore his mouth away from hers, he led her to the trunk of his car—handing over the roses and the Tiffany & Co. bag from earlier today.

I blinked a few times, making sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me. That “Prince Charming” wasn’t now playing the role of a two-timing villain.

My vision is perfectly fucking clear.

Lawrence’s name suddenly crossed the car’s dashboard via phone call, and I hit accept out of habit.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“Oh, great,” he said. “You are alive. I have good news, great news, and well, Tinder news. What do you want first?”

“I’m not interested in any of it.”

“I’ll start with the great news, then.”

I didn’t even pretend to listen. I was too focused on Simon kissing this other woman all over again.

He slid his hand under her dress, and she playfully pushed his hand away.

He slapped her ass in return.

If the “Disney kisses” and dry-humping couch sessions were ever frustrating to Penelope, it was probably because he was pacing himself and giving those parts to someone else.

“Um, hello, Hayden?” Lawrence asked. “Where are you?”

“On a secret mission.”

“Come again?”

“You heard me,” I said. “I’m doing some much needed recon.”

“Okay, fine. Once and for all, what drugs are you taking?”

“Instead of being a smart-ass, you should volunteer to help me with this.”

“I have no idea what ‘this’ is, Hayden. When exactly would you need my help?”

“Tomorrow and every morning this week,” I said. “We ride at dawn.”

Silence.

“Can you be honest with me?” He let out a long breath. “Is it cocaine or heroin?”

“I’ll pick you up at four. Be ready.” I ended the call and sent an email to Sarah.

I wanted her to do more than a simple, surface-level Google search. I wanted her to send me everything she could find on Simon, in every database, and I wanted it in my hands by midnight.

I also wanted—no needed, to know if he really owned that Ferrari.

When I finally pulled out of the line and sped away, a new message from Penelope appeared on the dashboard.

Penelope: So, you’re just going to keep reading my messages and IGNORING me? Being fickle for no damn reason? This is what you call being my best friend? What the hell have you been doing these days?

What I always do. Looking out for you.

Break Up #12

The One That Stayed the Night

Penelope

Back Then

Ottawa, Canada

Me: I lost my virginity tonight. Thought you would want to know.

Hayden: I’ll pick up a ‘Congratulations’ card for you at Walgreens if you want to celebrate.

Me: I’d rather you pick up a ‘Get Well Soon’ one.

Hayden: [confused emoji] What’s that supposed to mean?

I don’t answer him. I tuck my medal from Skate Canada under my jacket and slip out of the hotel room.

Without looking back, I rush downstairs and run across the street to The Hilton.

Grateful that there’s no one else in line at the front desk, I place my purse onto the counter.

“I need a room, please,” I say. “I don’t care how much it costs.”

“I’m sorry.” The desk agent looks up at me. “We’re sold out due to the skating competition, Miss.”

For a split second, it looks as if she may recognize me, so I look down.

“Are you sure that you don’t have anything?” I ask.

“One hundred percent certain. I think most hotels downtown are filled to capacity for the weekend.”

“I see.” I’m tempted to ask if I can take a nap on the lobby’s couch.

“She can take my suite,” a familiar voice says from behind. “I haven’t been in it yet anyway.”

Tatiana? I turn around in utter disbelief.

We tied for first place today, and we traded insults on the podium hours ago.

“I have room 1242,” she said. “I can share a room with my parents.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She shoots me a sympathetic look, almost as if she wants to ask what’s wrong, but she walks away without another word.

The desk agent taps her keyboard a few times and hands me a key packet. “The elevators are down the hall and to the right.”

I thank her and walk in the opposite direction. I want to avoid the crowd of people who are headed that way for a while.

As I’m circling the water fountain, my phone vibrates with a call. Hayden.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“What do you mean by needing a ‘Get Well Soon’ card?”

I don’t say anything.

“Penelope, tell me.”

“I told Joshua no,” I say. “I told him that I wasn’t ready and that I changed my mind, and I know that’s a really shitty thing to say in the moment when he’s already on top of me and the condom’s on, but I didn’t want to do it. I said no … ”