"They want to be like you. It's adorable," she said with a bright smile.
I kissed Penny once we were alone in the office.
"You know what I could go for?" she murmured against my mouth.
"There's a storage closet nearby," I suggested, sliding my hands along the curves of her hips.
"Hmm, normally yes, but maybe tonight. I need a pumpkin-spice latte. You want anything?"
"The usual."
"I see if I can find a plastic straw on the black market."
I smiled to myself as she danced out of the room. My phone dinged.
Bronwyn:Can we talk about the project?
Garrett:Sure
Five minutes later, Bronwyn came into the office. She shut the door and smiled.
I stood up. "Please open the door," I said firmly. "We have gone over this."
"I'm not here to seduce you, Garrett," she said, tossing her hair. "I would say it's because you're impervious to it, but well…"
"Well what?" I narrowed my eyes.
"I have a few little tidbits about Penny, the so-called love of your life, that may make you rethink your image of yourself."
"I don't understand."
She smiled with pity and derision, then she set a folder on my desk. I stared at it. Bronwyn opened it. "Read this," she said, pointing to an article.
I skimmed it, my heart sinking. "It's about my brothers and me." I glared at her. "Did you write this as some sort of blackmail effort?" I snarled.
"No. This is the beginnings of an article going in next month's issue ofVanity Rag. Written by none other than Penny," she said.
"I don't believe you." I paced around the room.
"I thought you might say that," Bronwyn said imperiously. "I have a sorority sister who works for theVanity Rag. Ever since Evan Harrington's investment firm bought it, he's been urging them to make more money. Their meal ticket is you and your family. The key is Penny. She's not who she says she is. She's a journalist. She's a liar. She doesn't love you."
"This could all be fake," I countered, willing myself to believe it.
"What about this?"
Bronwyn pulled up a video on her tablet. It was of a conference room full of people, including Penny's mother. They were talking about how this article about the Svenssons and their polygamist cult was going to blow the new issue's marketing profit out of the water.
"I told Penny she could have a book deal, TED talks, interviews on all the morning shows…" Trisha was saying.
"Turn it off," I snapped. I still couldn't believe it. I sat down at my desk, trying not to show how shocked I felt. "I need time to review this. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."
"I know," Bronwyn said, face a mask of sympathy, "how tough this must be. Please know that I am here for you in your time of need. Let me know if there is anything I can do." She squeezed my arm lightly and left.
Penny would be back soon. I needed time to figure this out. The kicker? I needed Hunter.
He and Mace were downstairs in a conference room. Greg was there, too, as was my wayward older brother Gunnar, who ran a reality TV production company. Its most popular show was theGreat Christmas Bake-Off. With his shaggy hair and cool pothead vibe, Gunnar never seemed concerned about anything, even when his production company was hemorrhaging hundreds of thousands of dollars a day. But even he looked shaken when I threw the folder on the table and told them what Bronwyn had said.
My brothers sat there in grim silence after I finished.
