Penelope Matthews.
There are two other women with her. One brunette with glossy hair and a laugh that carries, Cammy Wrenley. And another with a sleek ponytail and a blazer that looks too polished for a coffee shop, Vivi Newport.
My mom stands out of her chair and heads towards me like this is completely normal.
"What a coincidence," I whisper to my mother from where she meets me a safe distance away. "The Hawkeyes’ GM is here."
"Oh?" My mom blinks, widening her eyes so dramatically she should be arrested for bad acting. "She is?"
I stare at her.
She sips her coffee innocently. "I hadn’t realized they would be here. Though I may have heard in passing that they come here often."
"You’re the lousiest liar I’ve ever met," I tell her, but my voice lacks real bite because it’s my mom, and she’s smiling like she just pulled off a magic trick.
Penelope looks up from her table, and the second recognition sparks across her face, her smile brightens.
"Natalia, right?" She says, waving me over. "Come sit with us."
My mom puts her free hand on my back, clutching her coffee mug with the other, and nudges gently. "Go," she murmurs. "Be social. It’s a great opportunity to network. I’ll just be right over there."
As if for a second I believed that she pulled this move to get me work. I can clearly see that this wasn’t a push towards Luka, but a motherly shove.
I hesitate for half a second, but they’ve already called me over so I head straight for them, and then slide into the empty chair offered to me because I’m not about to look like a skittish animal in front of the Hawkeyes’ GM. Old instincts die hard.
Penelope leans in slightly. "I can’t believe you just walked into this coffee shop. We met at Oakley’s a couple of months ago, do you remember? You were the PR agent looking for Luka."
"Yes, I remember," I say, nodding. "It’s good to see you again."
Cammy smiles back. "That’s right… I heard you scared off the puck bunny and called out Luka for overcompensating. Wolf has been laughing about that for weeks."
My stomach tightens.
Here we go.
There’s a look in Vivi's eyes. Recognition. "That’s right. You’re the woman who was pictured with Luka in Switzerland," she says, not unkindly, more curious than judgmental.
Heat climbs up my neck, anyway.
"Yes," I admit. "That was me."
Penelope’s expression doesn’t change. No judgment. No awkwardness. Just the calm confidence of someone who has seen ten thousand tabloid narratives try to attach themselves to her franchise and learned not to flinch.
"We all saw the pictures," Cammy says. "Honestly? It was kind of adorable. Luka doesn’t do adorable."
I force a laugh that lands a little too thin. "I don’t think adorable is the word he would choose right about now."
Penelope chuckles. "Probably not."
There’s a pause, and I feel the shape of it, the unasked question hovering over the table:Are you and Luka still…?
I save them the trouble.
"We’re not on the best of terms," I say carefully. "So I wouldn’t want to cause any issues."
Penelope waves a hand as if I’ve said something trivial. "Honey, if you think one awkward situation is going to throw Luka off his game, you don’t know him well enough."
Cammy snorts. "Two weeks stuck in a chalet with a blizzard… maybe you know him too well. Katerina was keeping us updated."
