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“THANK YOU FOR HELPING me out, Jean. I appreciate the job. College isn’t cheap.”
Clutching one of the signature green aprons of the Rochester Hills Country Club, Penny glances around, hoping she won’t recognize anyone. It’s been almost four years, and most of the people she knew from her old neighborhood are away at college or on to other things.
Hopefully.
The older woman removes her spectacles and smiles. “I understand, dear. Are you okay with bussing tables and manning the buffet in the cafeteria? Those are the only spots I have open at the moment. The new owners closed the daycare.”
Penny nods. “I’m not picky. Work is work.” And it’s a job she’s familiar with. She often subbed in the kitchen during the summer she worked here. It couldn’t have changed too much.
“Do you need a locker?” Jean points at the employee lounge. “Choose any one you’d like.”
Tying her apron around her waist, Penny shakes her head. “I’m good.” No more lockers for her. She’d already secured her phone and wallet in the glove compartment of her car. Punching her timecard, she strides toward the kitchens.
As Gotye’s Somebody That I Used to Know drones from the overhead speakers, she scans the cafeteria and breathes a sigh of relief. Nobody looks familiar.
I can handle this.
It’s only four hours on Saturdays and Sundays during the peak swimming times. And the kitchen staff splits all tips. An extra hundred dollars for a weekend of work will go a long way.
She introduces herself to the wait staff and cooks. A few of the old timers recognize her and smile. Bill the fry cook says, “I thought you’d be off to college by now, smart kid like you.”
Penny traps her curls beneath a hairnet. “That’s the plan. Why do you think I’m here?”
Charlie, the head host, guffaws. “The tips?” She grins. Their customers might be rich, but they’re lousy tippers for sure.
As everyone welcomes her back, she relaxes. It’s the first time she’s felt some semblance of normalcy in days. Grabbing the bus tub, she heads for the dining area. “I’ll clear the breakfast buffet.”
As she empties the leftovers at the omelet station, she gazes out the windows. It’s almost noon. Kids are starting to arrive at the pool in droves. She scans the lifeguard chairs. She doesn’t recognize any of them either, thank God. She hasn’t heard where Luke is this summer. Hopefully, his school schedule keeps him busy enough to stay away from the country club.
As people crowd around for lunch, she stocks the salad bar, wipes and buses tables, and refills drinks. She ends up on her knees scrubbing chairs and under the tables more than once. The busy work keeps her mind occupied.
The lifeguards are starting to take breaks. Two girls enter through the side doors. Penny quickly cleans the only table available and waves them over.
“Are you freaking serious? What the hell are you doing here, Ramsay?”
As the familiar shriek hits Penny’s eardrum, adrenaline bursts through her heart like she’s being cornered by the hounds of hell. Staring at the approaching girl, Penny curses her luck. “Great.” Apparently, Christy Mefford is still around. She’s changed her hair. It’s more blond than usual.
No wonder I didn’t recognize her.
The other lifeguard hangs back as Christy strides up to her and stands toe to toe with her like a prison guard ready to take her down. “I asked you a question, Dotty. What are you doing here?”
Glaring at her, Penny holds her head high. “You don’t own the town. What does it look like I’m doing? I’m working.”
“Oh, hell, no! I refuse to even breathe the same air as you.” Curious onlookers stare as they gather near the salad bar.
Penny arches an eyebrow. “There’s the door. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”
Christy laughs. “Since my father bought the club a year ago, I think you have that backward.”
Jesus, Dr. Mefford bought this place? No wonder everything has changed. The foyer looks like something out of a House Beautiful magazine. And closing the summer care program to make room for a new day spa?
Yeah, I don’t fit in.
Dejection sits like a hand grenade in the pit of Penny’s stomach. Taking a step back, she replaces the condiments and napkins on the table, trying to ignore the stares. She needs this job. She has a plan, and the only way she can get out of that crappy hellhole of a motel is to earn an extra hundred every week.
Attempting to take the high road, she mutters, “I don’t know what you want from me, Mefford, but if you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours. I’m only here on the weekends.”
Crossing her arms, Christy follows her and scoffs. “That’s convenient. The same days Luke works. He doesn’t want you. Why do you think he hasn’t spoken to you?”
Penny whips her head up and issues Christy an indignant glare. “Because he doesn’t have my number! I don’t care what your precious Golden Boy does, okay? I haven’t seen him in two years. Grow up, for God’s sake.”
Disappearing into the kitchen, Penny steels herself for the fight to come. The girl isn’t going to let this go, especially since it seems Luke is working here this summer, too.
Why didn’t she know the Meffords bought the club? Why would she? She isn’t connected to the rich, entitled community of Rochester Hills. And she hasn’t been at the club for a few years. It isn’t like her family can afford the membership fees.
Tossing the dirty dishes in the sink, she grabs a fresh tub and fills it with ice. Hoping to avoid another run in with Christy, she exits the opposite doors and approaches the salad bar from the back.
Christy and her friend have taken the once-clean table. Ketchup and mustard are sprayed across the top, and Christy is talking to Charlie and pointing in Penny’s direction.
Charlie approaches Penny warily. “She says you didn’t clean the tables.”
Penny’s spine stiffens. She closes her eyes. “Charlie, I swear to you I did. Remember how Mefford used to be with me back then? She hasn’t changed.” Not by a long shot.
Charlie squeezes her shoulder. “Then it won’t help that Donovan is working here this summer too, kid. ”
Biting her lip, Penny closes her eyes as the bitter pain of failure trickles down her throat. This isn’t worth the anxiety. “I know. I’ll work the rest of the shift since you don’t have anyone scheduled, and I’ll look for something else.”
He claps her on the back. “I’ll talk to Jane. Maybe behind the line would be a better place.”
Penny shrugs, but this is a sign. It’s the first day of the season, and already, Mefford has tried to get her fired. It won’t end even if Penny is out of sight. She can pick up a fast-food job pretty easily. It just won’t pay as much.
Returning to her duties, she grabs the full tub of ice. Hoisting it upon her hip, she turns.
And runs right into Christy.
Little cubes of ice fly everywhere. Penny leans on the edge of the silverware table to keep from falling, but the thing isn’t stable. As her body tips forward, she closes her eyes.
The jeers of the young crowd in the dining area drown out the loud crash of metal scattering across the floor.
“O.M.G.! You’re such a clumsy cow!”
Charlie runs over. “Penny? Are you okay?”
Keeping her head down, Penny scoops the scattered ice into the bus tub, hoping she won’t draw a crowd. Her eyes narrow in on the people milling around. Everyone is staring at her, whispering and smirking.
This is no different than high school.
Her chest starts to heave. Attempting to take deep breaths, she tries to zone out the periphery and focus on her work. Her hands tremble. Her skin feels clammy. As her pulse thumps wildly against her neck, spots dot her vision. She inhales mindfully.
Five things you can see. Little cubes of ice. Four things you can smell. Ranch dressing, olive oil, roast beef, cinnamon buns. Three things you can hear...
Tears well at her eyelashes as the murmur of the crowd echoes through her like an electric guitar on reverb. Her blood pumps harder. Her coping techniques aren’t working.
After resettling the toppled flatware table, Charlie helps her stand. “Are you okay?”
Penny glances at the doors. She shakes her head. Her chest is tightening. Any second, she’ll hit a full-blown panic attack, and her meds are in her car. “I need air. I’m sorry, but I can’t...”
Christy says something derogatory about her weight, and her mind muddles the words as if she’s traveling through a long tunnel. Charlie shushes Christy and holds Penny’s arm, but Penny pushes away from him.
I need to get out of here.
Tearing off the apron, she crashes through the doors to the pool and stumbles through the pavilion. People linger nearby. The laughter from the crowd sounds unusually loud.
Dizziness spirals through her like a tornado. What feels like a million eyes focus on her as she rips off her hair net and races for the exit gates.
Unfortunately, the tiles are wet. Her feet give way. Her arms windmill, but she can’t stop herself. She loses her balance. Pain rockets through her as she lands face-down on the cement.
Dark spots swim in her vision. Hot liquid trickles down her face. She groans.
Holy crap, what did I hit?
“Jesus, Pen, are you alright?”
Like Superman, Luke Donovan lifts her into his strong arms and sweeps her hair from her eyes. As his beautiful blue gaze tears into her, full of his usual pity, she releases a sob.
Why does it have to be him? First, his girlfriend turns her into a spectacle, and now he wants to show the world just how pathetic she is by coming to her rescue.
She tries to wiggle out of his arms. “Put me down!”
He won’t release her. Pulling a clean towel from a nearby rack, he sits her on a nearby bench and dabs her face with a grimace. “Hold still, Sunshine. You’re hurt.”
Tears pour from her eyes as a lonely ache consumes her. They haven’t seen each other in two years. After all this time, he still calls her by her childhood nickname. Does he even have the right?
The doors open, and snickers sift across the patio. Penny looks up. Christy’s death glare punctures an unfixable hole in her already wounded heart.
Ripping out of Luke’s hold, Penny growls, “I don’t need your help, Donovan. Just leave me alone.”
Standing, she barely maintains her balance as she storms toward her car. She touches her sticky cheek. Blood is beginning to clot at the abrasion spanning the right side of her face.
Stumbling through the parking lot, she unlocks her car door and flops into the driver’s seat. As the headache from hell tightens every muscle in her neck, a wave of nausea passes over her. She grips the dashboard.
The sensation finally relents, and she turns the key in the ignition once more. The car sputters, attempting to turn over. Holding her breath, she flips it again. It refuses to start.
Haven’t I suffered enough?
She rests her forehead against the steering wheel, sobs wracking her body like a violent storm. It isn’t fair. Her whole life, she’s had the odds stacked against her. Her father died. Her mother abused her. The mean girls bullied her. Brandon Ellis raped her. She moved schools only to be subjected to the same bullying.
And now? Her mother hates her. She battles PCOS monthly. She works several jobs just to survive because her mother kicked her out. And Christy Mefford just chased her out of a job. Why does life always kick her while she’s down?
She slams her fists against the dashboard. “What is wrong with me?”
The scent of Armani envelops her as a strong hand slides over the top of hers. Long fingers squeeze hers. “Nothing, Pen. You’re perfect the way you are.”
At the sound of Luke’s soft voice, she whips her head up. His somber gaze sears through her like a soldering iron, and her fingers tighten around the wheel. It’s too much. She doesn’t want his pity. She isn’t a little girl anymore. She wants him to see her for who she is.
Like that will ever happen.
Tearing her hand from his, she wipes the tears from her cheeks. “Can’t you take a hint?”
The taste of iron permeates her tongue and coats her lips. Grabbing the soiled towel, she tries to dab at her wound. It hurts like hell. A blistering pain explodes across her temples. Dizziness consumes her once more.
He opens the door. “Come on, Pen. Let me look at it. You might have a concussion. You hit that cement bench pretty hard.”
Is that what she hit?
Felt like a Mack truck.
She attempts to start her vehicle again, but the engine just sputters. She shakes her head. “I told you I’m fine. I just want to go home.” Home? Where is that?
“Humor me.” He removes a first aid kit from his duffle bag and finds a tube of ointment and a roll of gauze. Gently, he swings her legs out and crouches at her side. “Hold still. This might sting.” Wrinkling her nose, she sucks in a sharp hiss as he administers first aid. He gives her a sidelong glance. “So, you wanna talk about what happened in there?”
She scoffs. “Same old, same old. Once more, your prissy girlfriend has ruined my life.”
He presses his lips together and sighs. “I just broke up with her.”
“Sure, you did. You’ve called it quits with that girl so many times. You’ll never leave her, Luke. She’s sunk her claws in too far.”
He hesitates for a moment. His nostrils flare. But as he dabs ointment on her cheek, his shoulders relax. “Well, I did. And I did it for you. I care about you. More than you think I do.”
She gazes into his eyes as blue as the deepest sea. Much as she wishes he’d look at her like she mattered, all she sees is pity.
Breaking contact, she glowers. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. You’ve proven it. But I’m here, and I want to help.” He grabs the filthy towel from her hands and wrinkles his nose. Tossing it aside, he lifts his damp shirt over his head.
Her breath hitches. What is he doing? He’s never stripped to his bare skin in front of her.
He presses his shirt against her wound. “Hold still.”
As he leans forward to help her, she soaks up the sexiest man she’s ever seen. College athletics has honed his arms and chest to perfection. His deeply tanned skin accentuates each pack of his six—strike that, eight—abs. A light dusting of dark hair covers his pecs extending to a line that slowly tapers to the waistband of his swimming trunks. It’s like reliving every one of her dreams.
As he continues his careful ministrations, adrenaline surges through her. Her pulse spikes. Blood pounds between her legs. His brilliant gaze settles upon hers, and her mouth parts. A wonderful shiver steals across her skin.
He’s never looked at me like this.
Cupping her cheek, he sweeps a thumb across her dry, cracked lips. A soft whimper leaves her throat. He groans. “Jesus, Sunshine.” He leans closer.
Fear jolts through her body. Is he going to kiss me?
She jerks out of his hold. “W-what are you doing?”
As if breaking out of a trance, Luke swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing relentlessly. The whites of his eyes nearly consume his irises. “I’m, er—I’m just trying to help a friend.”
Her hands quiver as she issues him a nervous laugh. “You have a warped sense of what that means.”
He twirls one of her curls around his finger and tucks it behind her ear. “Come on, Pen. I know I’ve been a jerk, but I’m trying. Can’t we be done with this? We’re friends.”
Mrs. Donovan’s voice permeates her thoughts:
“He could use a good friend, one who cares about him and has her head on straight.”
Cue stage right as Christy comes stomping out the pool doors. Penny panics. She can’t do this. It’s taken her two years to get over her stupid crush on Luke Donovan. There is no way she’ll allow him to hurt her again.
Turning the ignition once more, she breathes a sigh of relief as the engine roars to life. Eyeing his girlfriend warily, she mutters, “We’ve never been friends, Donovan. As far as I’m concerned, you’re an egotistical asshat, and that will never change, no matter what you do.”
Christy runs toward them, and Penny pulls her legs in and shifts into drive. As the car lurches forward, Luke jumps out of the way. She slams the door shut and hits the gas. The tires squeal. She peels out of the parking lot before the wicked witch of Rochester Hills can attack her again.
Turning into the nearest gas station, Penny removes her phone from the glove compartment and pulls up her contacts list. Her brother answers, and she sobs in relief. “Colt?”
“Pen? Shit! What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She shakes her head. She isn’t. And much as she wants to, she can’t do this alone. “C-can I come stay with you? I don’t have anywhere to go.”
An hour later, she checks out of the dingy motel. With one suitcase and a box of trivial things that hold sentimental value, she heads west toward Ann Arbor, never looking back.
This is it. She’s finally leaving Rochester Hills. She’s finished with all of them. And she swears she’ll never return.
*****
This is the private journal of Penny Elaine Ramsay. Do not read!!
OCTOBER 15, 2011
It’s been a while since I’ve written in my journal. I’m not sure I need it anymore. Life has changed drastically in the last four months. I’m still in Ann Arbor with Colt, only working one job. I take classes at night at Washtenaw Community College. And I haven’t had a panic attack in months.
My brother is my savior.
He was livid when he found out Miranda kicked me out of the house. He threatened to turn her into DCFS, not that it would have mattered since I’m eighteen. But he went to Rochester Hills and packed our things while she was gone, saying goodbye to our past forever. My champion and hero. I wish I hadn’t been so hard-headed and allowed him to help me in the first place.
He graduated summa cum laude with his master’s in criminology. The school set him up with an internship for a year as he finishes his application process for the FBI academy. His apartment is small, but his roommate got married in June, so he had a room to spare. I found a job at the local library to help pay for room and board. For the first time in my life, I feel safe.
There are some conditions to our arrangement. Colt made me promise to call him at any time no matter how small the problem. Apparently, we need an open relationship of trust, and that means complete and total honesty.
For the most part.
I haven’t told him that my mother drained my college fund. I applied for a scholarship through the Fallen Heroes of Michigan and will receive my tuition paid for the next four years. Colt is none the wiser. Since he curses my mother’s name daily, it’s better that way.
My stipulations are a little more succinct. After regaling him with the story of everything Christy Mefford did to me, Colt promised no matter how many times Luke calls, he will never let him know where I am.
And Luke asks often. It probably shocked the heck out of him when he found out I wasn’t living with Miranda anymore. True to his word, Colt gave him some story of me being accepted at a school in the Upper Peninsula.
It wasn’t a total lie. I’m looking into it. Ann Arbor is still too close to Rochester Hills. Being three hundred miles away from bad memories—and Luke Donovan—might be cathartic.
Falling in love with Luke was the worst thing that could have happened to me. I refuse to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, afraid to see him or his girlfriend again. And the pain will subside with time because all crushes fade.
Right?