Tell Me Everything - Page 9

“I want to go on the date,” I say. “Don’t get me wrong. The thought makes me want to die with nerves. But it doesn’t change the fact that it would be freaking amazing. An actual date. I know he’s just doing it for charity…”

“For charity?” Juliana repeats in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

I huff, but it’s not her fault her mind doesn’t immediately leap there. She isn’t familiar with how unattractive I am to men. It’s not as though I’ve expressed interest in any man since working here – letting her see their reaction - and she didn’t see how invisible I was in high school.

“Think about it,” I say. “He’s a charitable man. He gives a lot to various charities, and he also volunteers. He has his own charity for people suffering from brain injuries. So when he overhears a frumpy girl talking about her blog—”

“Please don’t talk about yourself like that,” Juliana cuts in. “You’re beautiful, Penny.”

My cheeks glow from the compliment, but maybe not in the way Juliana hoped. They heat up with shame, with a bit of rage mixed in there, as I wonder if she’s lying.

Does she really believe that?

Waving a hand, I say, “Okay, whatever. But the point is, he overhears a woman half his age talking about her blog. He thinks to himself, I might be able to help her out. So he shoots me an email. He even said it was to help answer the question.”

Juliana shrugs. “It could be an excuse. He might just want a date.”

I scoff bitterly. “What are the chances of that, realistically?”

“I don’t know. But it’s possible. Either way, I think you should do it.”

I gasp. “Really? I thought you might talk me out of it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s complicated. Imagine if Lena found out. She’d fire my ass.”

“Again, you could sue the hell out of her if she fired you for going on a date. Plus they split up like eight years ago, Penny. Eight years. She’s clearly holding onto some baggage from their relationship, but it doesn’t change the fact it ended almost a decade ago.”

I remember the way Lena glared at him, the viciousness of her tone when she spoke to him.

“I wonder why she hates him so much,” I murmur. “Have you heard anything?”

Juliana shakes her head. “I have no clue, but we both know how difficult Lena can be. I bet she was a handful.”

“What if he still cares about her, and he’s using me to get to her?”

“You saw the way he left yesterday,” Juliana counters. “That didn’t look like a man who still cares.”

I swallow, taking her words in. “What if Lena finds out?”

“Penny, stop.” Juliana leans forward. “I can tell how badly you want to do this. Maybe it blows up in your face. Maybe you live happily ever after. Either way, I think you owe it to yourself to try.”

I swallow, my chest tight, nerves clashing and battling inside of me.

“You’re right. I do. Even if he’s only being nice. At least I’ll get some dating experience. It will help with my blog.”

“Exactly.”

I leave the other part unsaid, the feeling dominating me completely.

The feeling that tells me this is the first step that will lead to a starry, bright future.

Lena pokes her head into the break room, a scowl on her face. “Have we forgotten that this is an office, not a social club?”

Exchanging a glance, Juliana and I stand and walk into the office.

I’m just glad Lena didn’t overhear.

Back at my desk – making sure Lena isn’t looking – I go to my website and Preston’s email.

I click reply.

CHAPTER SIX

Preston

I push the weights bar, finishing another rep, Freddie urging me on. My old football buddy – and now my manager – grits his teeth as he takes the bar.

“Goddamn, Preston. It’s even hard spotting weight like that. I thought this was a rest day, to keep our skills sharp.”

I grunt and grab my towel, wiping my face and soaking up the sweat. I shouldn’t have left my phone in the locker. But if I didn’t, I know I’d be checking it nonstop, the way I did this morning when I woke, waiting to see if Penny had replied.

My dreams were full of her. Just her, over and over again, until thinking of anything else, felt impossible, is impossible.

“We’re going to have to remove a couple of these plates,” Freddie says.

I walk around to the other side, taking off two of the plates, following Freddie’s lead. My old friend glances at me every few moments, his lips a flat line.

We’re in the private gym since we both get mobbed anytime we step into a public one.

We’re not super-recognizable when we’re out in the general public, but a lot of gymgoers are hardcore football fans. We get recognized a lot here.

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