“Penelope and I are strictly platonic,” I said. “We always have been, and we always will be.”

“I’m sure that all of my readers will be happy to hear that.” She batted her eyes at me, and Lawrence glared at her from across the room. “Speaking of romance—”

“You are here to write up a short piece called, Hayden Hunter’s Top Lessons in Life.” Lawrence interrupted, crossing his arms. “That’s literally the entire reason why we shut down this coffee shop, since your editor demanded that we have the photoshoot someplace ‘down to earth and real.’ The photogs have taken their pictures and left, so you need to hurry up and get to the point.”

“Yes, of course.” Her cheeks reddened. “What’s your favorite color, Mr. Hunter?”

“Oh, wow.” Lawrence rolled his eyes. “What a thought provoking question.”

“Ignore him.” I smiled at her. “He doesn’t get laid much. I like sky blue.”

“Okay.” She scribbled a few notes on her pad. “I’ve heard that you’re also a huge fan of candy, so do you like pineapple?”

“I do.”

“There’s a myth that if a woman eats pineapple, her ‘down there’ will taste better when a guy uses his mouth on her. Seeing as though you’ve mentioned loving pineapples several times, do you think that’s true? Do you have any experience in that area?”

I smiled as Lawrence looked like he was seconds away from losing his shit. “Next question.”

“Okay, then.” She shrugged. “When you first built your company here in New York—I’m twenty-four years old, no kids, tons of ambition, and I can suck your cock like you wouldn’t believe.” The words rushed out of her mouth as she jumped the shark. “I can make you forget all about your latest scandal, if you give me three hours.”

What the fuck?

“You can take me up to your penthouse suite.” She leaned forward. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Security!” Lawrence held his cell phone up to his ear. “Security, come in from the outside, now. We have a certified psychopath on our hands.”

“I wanted this interview to see if I felt a vibe with you.” She clasped my hand atop the table. “I felt it the moment I came in and you pulled out my chair. From the way you looked at me, I can tell that you care about me. You complete me.”

I raised my eyebrow, wondering if a prankster TV host was seconds away from making an appearance.

“I run the Hayden Hunter Wears Sexy Suits blog and I’ve followed you for years. I think we belong together.”

I had no idea how to respond to that.

My security guards, Henry and Taylor, moved in front of her.

“Come on, Miss.” They helped her up, but she pushed back.

“I’m not done talking to him!” She tried to move around them, but Henry looped his arms under hers—pulling her away.

“I wrote my number in lipstick at the bottom of that gift box!” She shouted as they carried her to the door. “I’ll be waiting for your call!”

I shook my head once the door shut. “Well, that won’t be helping me anytime soon.”

“I’ll have Sarah do a better job screening the next interviewer,” he said. “I’m not sure how she managed to slip through the cracks.”

“It’s fine.” I stood to my feet. “I’ll be ready for Vanity Fair and The New Yorker on Friday.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Out. I have plans with Penelope.”

“No, you don’t.” He crossed his arms. “Unless she’s dying. Is she dying?”

“She wants to introduce me to her new boyfriend,” I said. “He’s making us dinner at her place. Italian, I believe.”

“And?” He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Does he have some type of clout with the press that we can use to better your fuckups?”

“The ‘meet the family’ thing is a very important part in being her best friend, Lawrence.” I smiled. “She doesn’t have her parents, as you know. And she hardly ever gets to the six-month mark in any of her relationships.”

“Gee, I wonder why that is … ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your reputation—what’s left of it anyway, is in tatters and we can’t rely on your upcoming charity ball to help with your image this time. We need a hardcore plan with weeks of strategic moves, and you need to be there for every step of the way.”

“I will be.” I slid a pair of shades over my eyes. “After I get done meeting with Penelope and her boyfriend.”

“How long are you expecting that to take?”

“An hour or two.”

“Then you’ll come right back here?”

“Of course.”

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “So, that means I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

Two

Present Day

Penelope

No one ever bothers to tell you what happens after you’ve given your all and it’s still not enough.

I’d read enough self-help books to fill a swimming pool—highlighted every positive platitude, and I had yet to find the solution for my situation.

In fact, every morning, I woke up hoping that the past few years of my life were a cruel and twisted joke.

I desperately wanted to believe that I never fell face-first onto the ice in competition, or that I never lost several months of my life while being confined to a hospital bed—forever missing out on the chance to beat my mother’s iconic medal record.

Shake it off, Pen. Shake it off.

I focused my attention on the twelve lopsided “We Made it Six Months” cupcakes that were currently cooling on my kitchen counter.

They looked like something out of a horror novel—all cracked open with a burnt spot at their centers, but they’d have to do for now.

This was my fourth and final attempt.

Bing! Bing! Bing!

The timer suddenly sounded, and I pulled a tray of sauce from the oven. After setting it on the counter, I picked up my phone and called my boyfriend, Mack.

“Hey there, Gorgeous,” he answered on the first ring.

“Hey. The timer went off on your sauce. Do you want me to pour it over the noodles?”

“No, let it sit out for a minute. I’m looking for one last garnish, so I’ll be back in ten minutes or so.” He paused. “I’m sorry I wasn’t better prepared to meet your family today.”

“No worries. There’s no rush.” I ended the call and checked the time.

As usual, Hayden was ‘the world revolves around my ego’ late, so Mack could probably take another hour before he arrived.

Out of all the boyfriends I’d ever had, Mack was by far the most sympathetic and caring.

He never said things like, “Things happen for a reason,” “Maybe that career-ending fall was meant to be.” He let me vent and cry whenever it crossed my mind—never told me that it was time to move on.