Losing Penny (22 page)

“I brought you something,” his dad said,
holding out a small gift.

“Huh. Thanks, Dad.” Drake took the small
package while his dad frowned first at him then at Andrea.

“We need to talk,” Andrea said to him through
clenched teeth.

Drake held up his hand, stopping her. “You
have no reason to be angry with me.”

“Maggie is a
good
person.” Andrea
wrestled away from Trevor and then looked back at him, as if
suddenly realizing that maybe she’d preferred where she’d been. She
straightened her dress. “You’re not even interested in her.”

Melinda’s eyebrows shot up, and she inched
back to Drake.

“Maggie? As in Magdalena?” his father
asked.

Drake flicked his attention to his dad. “It’s
not what you think.”

His dad folded his arms across his chest.
“How much did that divorce cost you?”

“Everything, Dad. You know that.”

“And now she’s back?”

Drake groaned, acutely aware that every eye
on the room was trained on him and waiting for his answer. A crowd
had gathered to watch. Drake took a deep breath and tried to rally
his thoughts. After a moment he turned to his dad. “Go and find
Mom.” He wanted his dad to take his mom away from Don Marx. “Take
Mom home and I’ll call and explain later.”

“There can be no rational explanation for
this,” his dad huffed.

“Actually, Mom can explain it to you.”

“Oh, so your
mom
is the person to ask
why you’re a two-timing hound?” Andrea growled.

“Yes, go ask my mom.” Drake braced himself,
refusing to be intimidated by tiny Andrea and her new demonic
voice. “I’m a thirty-three-year-old hound who still hides behind
his mom. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find my
wife
.”

Melinda stopped his grand exit. “What exactly
does she mean ‘you’re not even interested in her’?”

He nodded at Andrea. “You’ll have to ask
her.”

Andrea pointed her finger at him. “He is a
hound-dog!”

His dad snorted. “Nice party, son.”

Drake rounded on him. “The real party, Dad,
is going on out there with Mr. Marx and my mom. Don’t criticize my
party while I’m watching your forty-year marriage crash and
burn.”

His dad lifted his eyebrows in surprise,
whether at his words or his tone, Drake didn’t know. “So you’re a
marriage expert?”

“Yeah, my marriage failed. It lasted for a
total of three weeks. As an emotional investment, I didn’t have too
much to lose. I made a mistake. I recognized it and got out as soon
as I could. Your mistake right now is that you’re in here with me
and these—” Drake lifted his hand to the others in the room. Andrea
glared at him, Melinda watched him through slitted eyes, and Trevor
smirked. His fists itched to wipe away the smirk, but he took a
deep breath and turned back to his dad. “These
fine
people
instead of your wife. So, please excuse me, because I do not wish
to follow your example.”

Kissing not only feels oh-so-good, but it
also has health benefits. It triggers a whole spectrum of
physiological processes that boost your immunity, and it tingles
the body that you work so hard to keep attractive.

From
Losing Penny and Pounds

Penny looked up
from the computer screen just in time to see Drake slam through the
door. While Wolfgang scrambled to his feet, Drake grabbed Penny and
pulled her off the sofa and into his arms. He kissed her hard.

Penny’s brain tried to click into gear, and
after a few moments of shock, desire kicked in and she kissed him
back. He scooped her up, sat down, settled her on his lap, and
kissed her some more.

“Good surprise?” Penny asked as Drake trailed
his lips along her neck.

“No,” he murmured without lifting his head.
“The worst.”

“Oh.” Penny’s breath escaped her. She wanted
him to elaborate, but she didn’t want to interrupt him. His lips
sought hers.

“What happened?” she asked as Drake laid her
down on the sofa. “The food was good though, right?”

He leaned over her and shook his head.
“Spilled shrimp.”

“Spilled shrimp or chilled shrimp?”

Drake braced himself on his extended arm and
stared into Penny’s face. “I don’t care about the shrimp. I care
about you and—”

Penny waited, but after a moment she craned
her neck to see what had stolen Drake’s attention.

He pulled away from her, his gaze locked on
the computer screen. A green sea serpent rose from a dark sea, and
lightning cracked a purple sky. Big letters spelled out
Serpents
and Sunstones
on the top of the screen, and at the bottom of
the screen, in much smaller letters, his name. “What’s this?” Drake
asked in a strangled voice.

“Oh, happy birthday,” Penny sat up as Drake
pushed away. “I, um, meant it for a surprise.” She watched his face
for a clue, but not finding one she continued, “I made a cover for
your story.”

“There’s a monster on it.” Drake sat up
straight and pulled the computer onto his lap.

“I know! Isn’t it great? You’d be surprised
how many sea monsters pictures there are online!”

“But there are no monsters in my story.”

Penny studied him, wishing she could read
him. This wasn’t the reaction she had anticipated. “I put some
in.”

“You put some in?”

“And few distressed damsels.”

“Distressed damsels?”

Penny nodded. “Ingrid and Helga.”

“Ingrid and Helga?”

“And some goats.”

“Goats.”

“For comic relief.”

Drake stood, pushed his hand through his
hair, and frowned at the screen. The music from the party next door
floated through the window. Penny reached out to him, wanting him
to return to the sofa, wanting to feel him beside her.

“It’s not a comedy, Penny.”

“Well, not with all the sea serpents and
mayhem—that’s why it needed some comic relief. You know, like the
funny animal characters in all the Disney movies.”

“It doesn’t want to be a Disney movie.”

“Well, I know that!” Penny leaned back,
watching him, a twitch beginning in her eyelid. “You should at
least read it before you decide.”

Drake faced her and folded his arms across
his chest. “I can’t believe you would rewrite my story.”

“I didn’t
rewrite
it.” She fished
around on the sofa, found his book wedged between the cushions, and
showed it to him. “See, I didn’t change your book. I just typed it
up, and as I did I embellished it. A little.”

“With goats, sea monsters, and distressed
damsels.”

Penny nodded. “Ingrid and Helga.” When Drake
remained silent, Penny added, “Ingrid is in love with Hans, but so
is Helga. And since Helga is a witch that controls the sea
serpents, Ingrid is pretty much dead meat.”

“Dead meat?” Drake’s voice went up in volume.
“I don’t write about
dead meat
.”

“Of course you don’t, I do.” She laughed at
her own joke. “Get it? Dead meat—cook books.”

“Stick to cook books, Penny.” Drake’s voice
had a hard edge.

Penny stood up, feeling insulted. “You should
at least read it.”

He turned away from her and faced the dark
window.

“I went to a lot of trouble having that
made,” she said to his back.

“Having it made?” He wouldn’t look at
her.

“My publisher—”

He wheeled toward her. “Your publisher?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, my
publisher agreed to make a hundred copies.”

“I’m being published by a cookbook
publisher?”

Penny put her hand on her chest. “What’s
wrong with that? Gooding and Reads publish my books.”

He frowned at her and she did her best to
frown back. “They’re doing me a favor.”

After Drake slammed out the door, Penny
decided that must have been the wrong thing to say.

***

The next morning Penny picked up her pace
when a shadow cross the back porch. Because of her hurt foot she
hadn’t been running for a more than a week, and it felt good to
lengthen her stride for a last push toward home. Reason told her
that Drake wouldn’t hang out on the front porch—he had his own
key—but since she couldn’t think of another shadow she’d rather
see, she sprinted across the lawn.

Andrea sat in the porch swing, gently
rocking. Disappointed, Penny slowed down and walked across the
grass, aware of the heavy dew soaking through her sneakers and
socks. Wolfgang trotted beside her.

“Hey,” Andrea called without getting up.

“How are you?” Penny took a couple of long
deep breaths before dropping onto the top step of the porch.
Wolfgang found a sunny patch near Andrea and the swing. “How did it
go last night?”

“Aside from dropping a few shrimp, it was
pretty entertaining to watch Drake square off with his dad while
his mom flirted up Don Marx.”

“Oh dear,” Penny said, lifting her T-shirt to
wipe away the sweat beading on her forehead. “Not his happiest
birthday then.”

Andrea frowned at Penny. “Why didn’t you tell
me you were/are married to Drake?”

Penny stood up and brushed off her shorts. “I
didn’t even know you knew Drake!” She refused to look Andrea in the
eye.

“I’ve known Drake for years. He dated my best
friend.”

“You’re friends with Blair? Of course you
are. She must have worked for you in the café. I should have put
that together.”

“And I would have thought you and I were
friends,” Andrea said, her words slowing. “But then I realized I
don’t know you at all.”

“I would consider us friends,” Penny said,
recognizing where the conversation was heading and feeling
powerless to steer it in any other direction.

“Foodwise the party was great.”

“Oh good.” Penny sighed in relief. Andrea had
taken the conversation in a whole new direction on her own, and
Penny could talk food for hours. She glanced at her wrist, where
her watch usually stayed, but even without the watch, she knew what
time it was. “Have you had breakfast? I try to eat within twenty
minutes of my workout.”

Andrea rolled her eyes but still followed
Penny into the kitchen.

“Did the flan turn out nicely?” Penny asked.
“Flan can be so temperamental.” She pulled out a box of
oatmeal.

Andrea nodded and sat down at the kitchen
table. “Several people asked for the recipes, which I couldn’t give
them, but Mia suggested they look on a website called
Losing
Penny and Pounds
.” Andrea twisted so that she could face Penny.
“So I did that…and did you know that every single recipe used at
that party came from that website?”

Heat traveled up Penny’s neck, flooded her
cheeks, and tinged her ears. Turning away from Andrea, she buried
her head into the refrigerator,

“Penny Lee is an amazing cook and
person.”

After washing the blueberries, Penny sliced
some almonds. Thwack, thwack. She knew she had to say something,
but she let the sound of chopping fill the silence. When Andrea
still hadn’t said anything and the almonds had been completely
decimated, Penny said, “She’s not that amazing.”

“Absolutely amazing—how can she possibly be
in Kiev and right here, right now?” Andrea leaned back in her chair
and folded her arms across her chest.

“Who else knows?” Penny asked, knife poised
midair.

“I’m not sure anyone, although Mia wasn’t too
subtle…or sober.”

“She didn’t come home last night,” Penny said
slowly. “And neither did Drake, although I’m pretty sure they
weren’t together.”

Andrea’s laugh sounded harsh. “Do you think
she went home with her husband or to bed with Don Marx?”

“Don’t laugh,” Penny said, stirring the now
almond powder and blueberries into her bubbling pot of oatmeal.
“She’s sixty something years old and she has two millionaires ready
to fight for her.”

She and Andrea fell into an uncomfortable
silence while Penny stirred her cereal. Finally Penny asked, “Are
you going to tell?”

Andrea shook her head. “But I want to know
why you’re hiding out here with Drake. How did you even meet?”

“My aunt the matchmaker,” Penny said and then
explained the mixed up phone numbers and rental agreement.

“Your aunt set this up?”

Penny nodded. “Her hopes for my love life are
much higher than mine.”

“Well, her plan worked.”

Penny looked out at the boats floating in the
Sound and felt sad. “Not really. I have to go home in a few weeks
and relationships take time. Besides, Drake’s mad at me.”

“Drake’s mad at you?”

“Why is that so surprising? It’s not as if
I’m perfect.”

“Practically,” Andrea said. “I’ve known Drake
for a really long time and getting mad is not his thing.”

“Everyone gets mad.”

“But some people can hide it really well, and
Drake is a master magician at hiding his emotions.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

Andrea nodded. “He keeps a really tight lid
on his temper. I’ve known Drake for years, and I’ve never seen him
blow.”

“Huh. Well, he stormed out of the house and
slammed the door last night.”

Andrea shook her head. “You must have done
something pretty awful, because last year Blair burned a bunch of
his things including a notebook of his poems and he didn’t even
flinch. Maybe he flinched a little, but his reaction was remarkably
underwhelming.”

Penny felt sick. “He must have really loved
her.”

“I’m sure he did—much more than he
realized—but that’s beside the point.”

“You’re obviously the Drake expert, not
me.”

“I’m just saying that
you
were able to
get under his skin in a way no one else ever has.”

Penny thought about this.

“So, how did you do it?” Andrea faced her and
cocked her head.

“The silly thing is I thought I was doing
something nice! Here, I’ll show you.” Penny wiped off her hands on
her apron and sat down in front of the laptop on the kitchen table.
After pulling up the mock-up for Drake’s book, she turned it to
show Andrea. “I sort of rewrote his book.”