“LELE,” PENELOPE CALLED, striding away from Stefan. She had important work to do, and he would get in her way. Her career was on the rails careening out of control, and she had to seize every opportunity to resuscitate it.
The eccentric designer held her arms open wide in greeting. “Doll! How I’ve missed you!”
Lele’s glittery red hair swung around her as she hugged her. She wore a leopard print onesie that plunged to a V in the front with sparkly red tights and leopard spiked heels, and she still had the legs to pull it off.
“You’re looking good, Lele,” Penelope said.
“Not bad for just turning forty,” Lele said with a wink, and then turned serious. “I hear you’re having a tough time, doll. The fancy New York and French designers have been dropping you.”
Penelope tilted her chin up. “That’s true, but I was planning on making a career change anyway.”
“You’re a smart girl, I know you will. And unlike those snobby designers, you’re welcome on my runway anytime. This is L.A., and if people ain’t talking about you, you ain’t nothing.”
She clasped Lele’s hands in appreciation. “Have any shows coming up?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. A lavish charity affair at the new Waldorf Astoria hotel in Beverly Hills. I’ll have my assistant call your agent.” Lele leaned toward her. “And unlike most of the shmucks in this town, I really mean it.”
That’s why Penelope liked Lele. “I have another favor to ask, too.”
“Name it. You’ve always done good work for me.”
“I hear you’ve been working with the studios. I have an idea for a television show that I’d like to pitch.”
“That’s a great idea, but it’s tough to break in.” Lele thought for a moment. “I know a producer I could introduce you to.” She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times. “Here, I’m sending you one right now. Cynthia is tough, but she’s at a new company and I know she’s under a lot of pressure to find new shows. Tell her I referred you.” She snapped her phone off. “And that’s the way I do business. No time to wait around.”
Penelope opened her phone, ignoring more messages from Kristo. “Got it.” That’s one reason why she liked Lele; she was a woman of action, not talk. There were too many talkers in Hollywood.
“Something else I should tell you, too,” Lele said. “I’m not one to gossip, but I overheard a conversation at a party that Aimee Winterhaus hosted. I know you and Monica Graber were friends.”
“I don’t see much of Monica anymore.” Penelope had learned to be diplomatic in business. Aimee Winterhaus was the Fashion News Daily editor she’d last seen in New York.
“I’m aware of that. She was talking to another model—I don’t know who she was—about the shooting incident in New York. Said she was sorry the shooter had missed you, but you wouldn’t get away next time. She seemed to think you were the root cause of her declining career.”
“Monica took care of that all by herself.”
“I’m not blind. But she also said you were the cause of her divorce.”
Penelope’s lips parted in astonishment. “No way, I never even—”
Lele held up a hand. “We both know she’s a jealous. And lazy. She was only looking for a husband who could support her so she’d never have to work again. When her husband quit his lucrative law practice, she had a fit.”
“There were reasons for that,” Penelope said softly.
“Can’t hardly blame him. Representing rich, murdering low-lifes? No thanks.” Lele brushed her shoulder off for emphasis. “But there are plenty of girls like Monica around, and I’ve watched them for years, so it doesn’t surprise me. There are lots of old goats who’ll give someone like her exactly what she wants. And they deserve what they get in return. Nothing but whining about, ‘why do you listen to all this old music?’ Well, what do they expect?” Lele blew a puff of air between her crimson lips.
Penelope chuckled. “Sometimes it’s a true love match.”
“Rare, but it happens, I guess. Anyway, watch out for Monica.”
They chatted a little longer about other designers they knew and the highlights of the current collections. Lele promised to contact her agent again, and then other people descended upon Lele, so Penelope gave her a hug and moved on.
A server whisked by, offering red wine. “Cabernet?”
“Absolutely,” Penelope said. After taking a glass, she moved to a quiet corner overlooking the city, contemplating her next move. She had to do her homework first, but she could find a lot of information on the Internet. She’d already explored how to pitch a show, and what the show bible—as the show description, synopsis, and episode outlines were called—should contain.
As she sipped her wine, several ideas were running through her mind. A behind-the-scenes look at the runway business, or a reality show, or a travel-lifestyle show. She wasn’t wild about the reality show idea, though she suspected that would have a lot of appeal because of what she was going through right now. Yet, she didn’t want to capitalize on misfortune, and she needed to make the right move for her long-term career.
She stood gazing out at the twinkling lights, relishing this moment alone. She loved Elena like a sister, but she also enjoyed having time to think. And with any luck, she’d seen the last of Stefan.
Sipping her wine, she wondered why Stefan was so interested in Kristo. She had to admit, Kristo had gone overboard on the flowers, and he’d been sending quite a lot of texts asking her to join him again on his yacht.
Kristo was getting more effusive with each text—You’re gorgeous! Let’s go to Monaco! I love you! Let’s sail into the sunset!—but she knew that was just his socially inept way of complimenting her. Men like that were generally harmless.
Cradling a glass of Perrier, Stefan watched Penelope from a shadowed area just far enough away that she wouldn’t notice him. He’d been in his business long enough to know that the people he worked for were under a tremendous amount of pressure, and when they felt threatened by forces beyond their control, they often lashed out.
Penelope was doing just that. Feeling physically endangered, losing work, and being shunned—all these pressures mounted on people. He understood her need for a brief respite. His new phone buzzed and he drew it from his pocket, never taking his eyes off Penelope.
With a wireless earpiece in one ear, he shifted the phone to the other side. “What’s up?” It was Josh. He listened for a moment. “Thanks for checking on that. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
He secured the earpiece to continue monitoring Penelope and Lele’s conversation. Before Penelope stormed off, he’d activated the device he’d attached to her purse. She might have fired him—again—but as far as he was concerned, he was still on assignment. This wasn’t the first time a client had fired him when the pressure got to them. They’d apologize and ask him back, though he’d never really left.
Breathing in, he filled his lungs with the cool night air. The female bodyguard he’d been trying to arrange had just accepted an extremely lucrative job in the Middle East with a sheikh for his wife and children. He couldn’t blame the woman, but he knew Penelope would be upset.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lele Rose throw her head back in laughter. He shook his head. She had to be the most creatively dressed person here tonight. He didn’t know her, so he couldn’t judge the veracity of her claim she made about Monica, but it wouldn’t surprise him.
Monica was highly vindictive, and she’d often blamed Penelope for jobs that she had lost, though Monica had only put in minimal effort. She’d show up late for gigs and didn’t really care about her career. More and more, she’d either stay in a separate bedroom or take off on a sudden, unplanned trip. He knew that she was having affairs, but he’d given up caring a long time ago.
He continued listening to the conversation between Lele and Penelope and then watched Penelope get a glass of wine and walk to the edge of the party.
When Monica had told him about the baby, he’d felt a strong sense of duty. His own father had been absent much of the time, and no matter what relationship he might have with Monica, he owed it to his child to be a better father. He’d wrestled with mixed feelings about his father for years and it had taken a lot of therapy to get past it. He didn’t want to make the same mistake with his children.
After Monica had lost the baby, everything changed between them. He thought she was acting out her distress, but it turned out that was just the way she was. She was slovenly and seemed to live on lettuce and vodka. So in addition to his full-time work, he picked up after her, did the grocery shopping, cooked, and washed clothes. The only items she would shop for were clothes and alcohol.
They had gone to marriage counseling—his idea—but the therapist had told him there was little he could do in dealing with a bipolar woman at her level unless she agreed to take medication, which Monica steadfastly refused. In the end, he felt he had done as much as he could for her. He had no regrets over his relationship with Monica, which was firmly in the past.
He watched Penelope sip her wine. Moonlight touched her bare shoulders, and he felt his gut tighten. What he regretted was how his relationship with Penelope had ended. Though in his heart, it had never ended. This time, he’d committed to seeing it through. No matter how she treated him, he would bide his time.
She had a right to be angry with him, and he accepted full responsibility for his actions. He also knew that she might never trust him or love him again, but he had to try.
Seeing his friend Hugo approach Penelope, he adjusted his earpiece so he could hear. Penelope would go ballistic if she knew he was monitoring her conversations, but it was part of his job. Even if she would never have him again, he had a duty toward her, particularly in light of Lele’s comment about Monica. He made a mental note to check that out.
And Kristo of the thousand flowers, whoever that was. He smirked to himself. The guy was way too obvious.
He thought back to Monica’s comment, which sounded extreme, even for her, but he’d learned to never put anything past people. He’d seen plenty of seemingly rational people go berserk, especially when money, sex, drugs, and alcohol were mixed into the equation.
Hugo began talking. Listening, Stefan heard him tell Penelope he was glad that he’d run into her again, and thanked her for introducing him to Elena. He said he was going to stop by Elena’s shop to pick up something special for his mom’s birthday. Stefan smiled to himself. Good guy, that Hugo.
Stefan continued to observe from the shadows while Penelope sipped her wine. Her every movement transfixed him, from the graceful way she held her wine glass, to the naturally determined tilt of her head. What made people fall in love? He wondered. But he’d fallen in love with Penelope the first moment he’d met her.
He’d been no one, a nobody, just another Navy SEAL leaving the world of combat behind and wondering what to do next with his life. He’d had lofty goals. But none of them compared to having a woman he could laugh with, trust, and believe in. In her eyes, he saw the best version of himself reflected.
He blinked hard against the sudden moisture that gathered in his eyes. How often he’d wish that he’d never met Monica. Yet he was a pragmatic man. He would never give up on the woman he loved. In a room full of beautiful women, Penelope was the only one for him.
She drained her wine glass and turned around. Stefan stepped back into the shadows, watching as she headed toward Elena. Ready to go? he heard her say. She called Josh on his cell phone, and he heard him promise to meet her outside and then drop off Elena at her home. On their way to the elevator, the two women stopped to say goodbye to Eva Devereaux.
After the elevator doors closed, he strode to the stairwell and took the stairs down. By the time they emerged from the hotel, he was sitting in the front seat next to Josh.
Looking surprised, Josh said, “Where are the two women?”
Stefan nodded toward the pair coming out the door.
“Why weren’t you with them?”
“I got fired.”
Josh snorted. “Yeah, right. Again.”
The two men exchanged a grin before Josh got out to escort Penelope and Elena to the SUV and open their doors.