CRUEL MONEY (Cruel #1)

7. Natalie

Natalie

7

I never wanted to drink again.

Ever.

The next time I thought about downing nearly an entire bottle of bourbon, I was going to just knock myself out instead. It would be faster. Maybe even less painful.

I shielded my eyes against the blinding sun, ignored my grumbling stomach, and then all but fell out of bed. What the hell had I been thinking last night? So much of it had this hazy film over it, as if I were seeing it through an out-of-focus lens. I remembered the ritual burning of my rejection letters and skinny-dipping. I remembered the bottle of liquor.

And Penn.

Penn f*****g Kensington.

“f**k,” I groaned into the silence of my bedroom.

Had he really been there last night or had that been some kind of manic dream? Because…it couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be here. He certainly couldn’t be a Kensington. That would be too horrible to consider.

I noticed my laptop was open and lurched toward it. There, in an incoherent babble, was some sort of story I’d written while I was drunk last night. I skimmed through it and groaned some more. Apparently, I’d written out more or less what actually happened after drinking an obscene amount.

Great.

I swiped sleep out of my eyes and slammed the laptop closed. I didn’t want anyone else to see what I’d written. That would be even more humiliating than what had happened the night before.

Snatching up my cell phone, I hastily changed, cleaned myself up, and then stumbled out of my bedroom. All of the doors were closed on the way to the living room. In fact, there was no sign at all that anyone had been there. The bottles had all been picked up. Nothing was on the tables. The pillows were all exactly how I had left them. No indents in the couch cushions.

I shook my head in confusion.

Had I been that drunk?

I had an active imagination. I made up stories in my free time. But I couldn’t have made last night up. Could I?

The kitchen was similarly empty and pristine. But when I pulled out the drawer for the trash, the bottle of bourbon was there as well as an empty bottle of champagne. I had a vague recollection of having champagne. That would explain the headache.

Okay, I wasn’t totally insane. People had been here. I’d actually seen Penn and his insanely incredible friends. So…where were they?

My phone told me it was already noon. They’d stayed up later than me. Were they all still asleep?

I had no interest in opening doors to find out if anyone was still around. It was easier to assume that they’d just vanished as quickly as they’d appeared the night before. Penn had said that they might just go somewhere else. Maybe they had.

Fuck, I didn’t know.

Part of me hoped they were gone. I had clearly been drunk off my ass last night to be able to keep up with them at all. They were all on another plane of existence. I was here, watching Penn’s mom’s house for a living while I got unlimited rejections from my agent’s assistant. Not even from my agent. They were all off, living these wonderful lives and making millions or whatever.

The other part of me wished that they’d stayed. Not for Penn. Though the man was sexy as hell, he was still on my s**t list. But I really did like his friends. I liked the bond the crew had and how they’d survived all these years together. To feel a part of that for even a second had been exciting.

I’d only ever had one real friend. And I was certain that Amy would probably want to hear about this.

I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and dialed her number.

“Hey,” Amy drawled lazily. “How’s the new place?”

I laughed. “It’s…interesting.”

“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?”

“So…remember that guy from Paris?”

“The one you gave your V-card to?”

I nodded my head and plopped down on the couch. “Uh-huh. Penn, the douche who had s*x with me and then ghosted.”

“Right. The, like, sexiest man alive who gave you a dozen orgasms and who you still begrudgingly claim is the best you’ve ever had.”

“Well…” I grumbled, hanging my head. Leave it to Amy to bring up that s**t right now. “He’s here.”

“What?” Amy shrieked.

I wrenched the phone away from my ear. “Hangover. Take it down a notch.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. What do you mean, he’s there? How can he be there?”

“Turns out, Penn is actually Penn Kensington.”

Amy chuckled, and then it turned into a full-body laugh. “Oh, this is too good. He’s the mayor’s son?”

“He is. And he showed up here last night with his friends.”

“Did you f**k him?”

“What? No, of course not! He was an asshole. I have no interest in him.”

“But you’re in a dry spell!”

“No! Amy, focus. I am working for his mother. There’s no way that is happening.”

“Fine. So, what are you going to do?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know. Avoid him?”

Amy laughed. “Girlfriend, a guy like that cannot be avoided.”

“I was hoping that you’d have advice. You’re the one who deals with guys and people.”

“My advice is to sleep with him. But since you’re not listening to me—” Another voice came through the speaker. “Hold on a second, Nat. There’s someone at the gallery.”

“No problem.”

Amy ran an art gallery on King Street in downtown Charleston. It had started out with a bang. Since she had an in with the art community, she’d started it straight out of college with her shiny art history degree in hand. Grimke University had even featured her as an esteemed alumnus.

I finished the bottle of water while I waited for Amy to return to our call. Not that I was certain she was going to give me any real advice about what to do about Penn and his friends. I still thought the best answer would be to just never see them again.

I was there to watch the place. The mayor was doing some remodeling and upkeep before her annual party in November, and she needed someone to be here to deal with the repairmen and interior decorators who would be floating in and out. I had only a vague idea of what was actually going to be happening, but I wasn’t doing any of the work, just orchestrating it. I had a list in my email somewhere of what was going to start on Monday. Otherwise, I was free to enjoy the Hamptons.

The door clicked open, drawing me away from my thoughts, and my eyes bulged when Penn walked into the living room. I hung up the phone and jumped to my feet. I’d call Amy back later.

“You’re still here,” I blurted out.

“I am,” Penn said.

“I thought you might have left already.”

He arched an eyebrow, and my gaze traveled down his fit body. I’d never seen him in anything other than a suit and naked. Today, he was dressed comfortably in a sky-blue polo and khaki pants with boat shoes. He’d always lived in a suit in my mind. It was strange to see him like this. Though…he still looked f*****g hot. Damn him.

“We didn’t leave. Just had brunch. I would have woken you, but I figured you needed the sleep after last night.”

I ran an absentminded hand through my tangled hair. “I guess.”

In that moment, Katherine bounded through the front door. “Morning, Natalie,” she said with a smile. “We brought you a pastry from the restaurant. Eat up and then get changed. We have plans.” Katherine shoved a white bag into my hand.

“Thanks,” I said automatically. I was surprised they’d thought of me at all. Not that I was hungry. I still felt a little queasy from all the alcohol. I wanted plain toast and a Gatorade.

“Of course. Don’t forget your suit. You’ll need it.”

Katherine traipsed off, as if she hadn’t had any alcohol at all last night. Lark and Rowe followed behind her, nodding in my direction. Then, Lewis appeared in the doorway in a similar outfit to Penn’s. He quirked a smile at me.

“Hey, Natalie. Are you feeling better?” Lewis asked, sidling up to me.

“Uh, not really.”

Penn was glaring at Lewis, as if his presence next to me irritated him. It was almost humorous. If I didn’t feel so out of my depth with them all.

“That’s too bad. Maybe I can whip you up some breakfast.”

“You cook?” I asked. That wasn’t something I had expected.

“I do. Grew up cooking with my mom.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that. I can make my own food.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” Lewis started for the kitchen. “Just let me know if you have any food allergies.”

I shook my head in confusion. What was happening here? I’d thought last night was some kind of weird dream. Penn’s friends had hung out with me just to annoy him, but now, they were making it seem like…I was almost one of them. Like I belonged.

And then there was Penn.

He didn’t casually stand around with me like Lewis had. He stood with his hands in his pockets and blue eyes staring intently into my own.

“What?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I want to apologize,” he got out quickly.

“You…want to apologize?”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot last night. I was surprised by your appearance and had no right talking to you the way that I did.”

I eyed him suspiciously. This was a one-eighty from how he’d acted the night before, and he hadn’t been drunk.

“Okay.”

“Just okay?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say. We didn’t get off on the wrong foot because you were rude last night. It’s because of what you did when we met in Paris.”

“That was so long ago.”

“And that means you’ve changed?”

“How would you even know if I had?” he asked, stepping closer to me.

There was fire in his eyes that turned me on as much as it infuriated me.

“I wouldn’t. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not the person that I was six years ago. But everything wasn’t a lie.”

“Fine,” I said. “Everything wasn’t a lie. Just enough of it to get in my pants.”

“Natalie, I didn’t need to lie to get in your pants,” he said very calmly. I could tell that the charm he had used on me was coming back out. “I spent time with you because you were interesting. And I still think that you are. We’re going to be hanging out this weekend, and I’d like us to at least be civil. For you to give me a second chance.”

I blew out a harsh breath and rolled my eyes. “What happened to you overnight? Did you have a brain transplant?”

His eyes bulged in surprise. “What?”

“This,” I said, pointing at all of him, “I don’t need to deal with right now.”

I shook my head and brushed past him.

“Where are you going?”

“Didn’t you hear Katherine? We’re going out.”

“Natalie…”

“Penn, just save your breath. I don’t need an apology or the everything wasn’t a lie speech. You’re here for the weekend. I’m here until November. We can be amicable, but don’t push your luck.”