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“No one in the tribe will buy it. Especially, Tara.”
“The only people who will question it, will be looped in.”
“My dad?”
I raised a brow. “If you’re asking whether your father will be apprised of the true nature of our engagement, the answer is no.”
“Right. It probably won’t surprise him at all,” she mumbled.
I wanted to pull Penelope into my arms and assure her that even though both her parents were narcissistic assholes, she had other people who cared about her—loved her—and I was one of them. However, I thought better of it. She was on the verge of agreeing to work with me. I could sense it. If I confessed my true feelings now, she’d withdraw. I’d known her long enough to have seen it happen. Or heard about it, at least.
“I don’t know if Pen will ever get married,” I remembered my sister telling me. “Both her parents are just as fucked up as mine are.” She hadn’t known then that we shared one biologically. Actually, I hadn’t yet, either. “Anyway, the minute someone gets too close, she suddenly finds a multitude of things she can’t stand and breaks up with them.”
My end game with Pen was a long one. I wasn’t interested in something temporary. I wanted to grow old with her.
My plan involved spending time together. The twenty-four-hour-a-day kind if our cover was to be effective. There was no question we were attracted to each other physically, but I wanted more from Penelope. A lot more. I wanted it all.
If she agreed to this, which I was beginning to think she would, we’d have time to really get to know each other. From there, maybe she’d see the new me. I went from being an angry twenty-five-year-old bent on revenge, to a man who wanted more out of life. A real life. A good life. A life with love. And that meant a life with my Butterfly.
“I have to think about this, Brand.”
“Understood.”
“So, um, if there’s nothing else, I should call my dad.”
“I’ll take a look around while you do. I’ve kept up with Tara’s work on the gallery’s website, but this will be the first time I’ll see any of it in person.”
Penelope cocked her head but didn’t say anything. I was sure she expected me to leave, but I had no intention of doing so. I hoped she’d agree to have dinner with me tonight. Even if it was under the guise of planning our “engagement strategy,” I’d make the most of every moment I got to spend with her.
3
BUTTERFLY
Iwould’ve preferred to wait until Brand left to call my dad. However, if I didn’t do it now, I might talk myself out of contacting him at all.
After engaging the lock on the front door via the remote, I went upstairs to Tara’s studio. My dad’s cell rang several times before he answered.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m okay, Dad. What’s up?”
“I’d like you to meet Hailey.”
My father always wanted me to meet any woman he was about to marry. For two of his three wives after my mother, it was the only time I’d seen them. That’s how quickly the unions ended.
“I was thinking you could?—”
“Hold on. What did your message about a change of plans regarding the house on Fire Island mean?”
“That’s one of the reasons I want you to meet Hailey. She wants to keep it. Maybe even tear it down and build something more modern.”
“More modern?”
“Or fix it up and flip it.”
“Dad, you can’t be serious.”
“Listen, I don’t want to do this over the phone. Let’s get together for dinner. You girls can meet, and Hail will tell you her plans.”