Page 11 of Holding Penalty

It’s none of my business, but I can’t help it: outrage beats behind my chest at the idea of her letting this guy get away with it and still marrying him.

“You can’t stay with a person who’d do something like that to you. Not for any reason.”

“More people than me will be affected if I don’t get married.” The way she says that word—me—sounds as if her own wishes are the last thing playing into her decision.

“Some family expectations bullshit?” I ask. The Piper I know wouldn’t let herself be pressured into marriage over something like that. But then again, I don’t really know her, do I?

The idea of getting to know Piper better never appealed to me during the two years we spent living next to each other in college. Why does it suddenly sound … not so bad?

Must be all the beers and shots.

“No. It’s the bakery.”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

She tilts her head and bounces her eyebrows in an annoyed gesture, like she’s gearing up to explain something convoluted.

“I have an inheritance that I need to be married to receive. From my late grandmother, who added that stipulation because she didn’t want me to never get married like my mom.”

Weird. I didn’t think things like that happened in the real world. “Okay,” I urge her on, still not sure what this has to do with a bakery.

“The owner of the bakery I work at is about to retire. She’s willing to sell the business to me at a reasonable price, which I’ll be able to afford if I get my inheritance. She has some medical issues and needs her retirement nest egg as soon as possible. If I get married, and get my money, everything works out for everyone. Jeanette, the owner, gets to retire, and I get to own my dream business. Instead of Jeanette needing to put it on the market and try to find a seller, which probably results in an amazing bakery that people in the neighborhood have loved for decades disappearing and being replaced by some corporate bullshit. Not to mention everyone who works there losing their job.”

“And that’s why you’re still thinking of getting married to a guy who cheated on you?” There’s more disbelief than understanding in my voice.

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I need my inheritance to pull it off. And there’s only one way for me to get it: getting married.”

“You can’t get a loan?” I ask.

“Nope. Rejected everywhere.”

I can feel the excessive alcohol gliding through my bloodstream, loosening my lips. “Well … if we sign a loan contract, maybe I could⁠—”

“No.” The word cuts me off so sharply I flinch.

“However much a local bakery costs to buy, I’m sure I could spare it. I think I’d trust you to pay it back.”

I have no idea how much money we’re talking about, and I’m not sure how much the constant barrage of beer and shots is affecting my judgment. But right now, I’d gladly part with a million or two rather than see Piper Dashwood actually become … ugh, Piper Bentley.

I grab my beer and pull down a big swig of it at the thought.

“It’s way too much money for you to give me just because you felt sorry for me one night. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

“I thought you said you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.” I throw her words from earlier tonight back at her.

She cuts me a hard look. “This is different. This isn’t a couple cheap rounds of drinks at a dive bar. This is a lot of money. Too much for me to feel comfortable about taking just because you had to take care of me on one of the shittiest nights of my life. Besides, you’ve drunk too much to be thinking straight about major financial decisions.”

I roll my lips. I don’t know why, but Piper rejecting an offer of mine … it doesn’t feel good for some reason.

But I guess I get where she’s coming from. If that’s how she feels, I’ll respect it. After all, nothing makes you feel less respected than being cheated on. Nothing makes you feel less considered, nothing makes your own hopes and desires feel less relevant.

I don’t want to make Piper feel that way even more right now, so I drop it.

“The wedding’s next week. We’ve been planning it for ages. People have bought plane tickets to be here, booked hotel rooms. Calling it off at the last minute?”

She can’t seriously be thinking about still going through with it.

“I mean,” she continues, “I didn’t let him explain. Maybe it really wasn’t what it looked like.” She scoffs. “Even though I sure as hell can’t imagine what else it could have been.”