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For the first time in four years, my soul is light, and it’s because I’m free. I’m working on my relationship with my sister, I’m engaged and in love with a guy who wants me just the way I am, sins and all.
I want my parents to suffer, but I don’t trust who I’ll become if I’m given so much power and responsibility.
If Izzy and I weren’t friends now, I’d wish this burden on her, but she’s too pure, too good for me to do that to her. I don’t want any of us to have to deal with it, but if not us, does it fall back to my parents or my grandparents? Who inherits if not me?
We’re all here, all six of us seated in Kip’s limo on the way to the lawyer’s office. I haven’t made an appointment again, but just like last time, I know they’ll see me. I didn’t want Mr. Stanton to have time to forewarn my parents about this, although, as we found this letter hidden in my mom’s safe, I’m assuming they’re already aware of this convoluted plot twist.
The others are all chatting, but I’m feeling too introspective to be good company, so I’m just sitting here, silently freaking out.
“Stop,” Hawthorn whispers against my ear. “No matter what happens in this meeting, nothing changes. Rich as the King of England, or poor as a homeless person, I don’t care. I love you and you love me, so give me your hand, kiss me, then let’s go and find out what else your great-grandfather has planned for you.”
A relieved sigh falls from my lips as I place my palm against Hawthorn’s and let him take control. I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing him to take over, even if it’s just for a minute at a time. His orders ground me, they silence the doubts in my mind and allow me just to be.
Our limo pulls to a stop, and I glance out the window at the familiar brownstone façade of the offices of Stanton, Stanton, and Kingston. The last time I was here, I was alone, but this time I’m surrounded by family.
Last time I sat in an Uber and wondered if my sister and I would have been closer if she’d have gone with me. Now she’s here by choice because she wouldn’t let me do this alone. So much has changed in my life, and walking away from this money was the catalyst that caused it all.
“Let’s go,” Hawthorn says as the driver opens the door. Pulling me to the edge of the seat, he climbs out, helping me out then guiding me forward so the others can all climb out after us.
When we’re all standing on the sidewalk, I glance around at the strangers who have become my family and flash them a shaky smile, then I inhale sharply, straighten my spine, and move, striding to the buzzer and pressing it.
“Stanton, Stanton, and Kingston, how may I help you?” the same receptionist from last time asks.
“Penelope Rhodes to see Mr. Andrew Stanton,” I say, hating the sense of déjà vu that hits me. When we hear the lock disengaging, Hawthorn reaches around me and pushes open the heavy wooden door, gesturing for me to walk through.
Retracing the same steps I took the last time I was here, I stride into the wood-paneled room and cross straight over the desk.
“Good morning. Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asks.
“I don’t, but if you could let Mr. Stanton know I’m here, I’m confident he’ll see me,” I say using my Penelope voice, as Hawthorn likes to call it.
The man pushes his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose and lifts his phone receiver to his ear. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I have a Penelope Rhodes in reception.” He listens for a second, then says, “Yes, sir.” Replacing the receiver back into the cradle, he looks up at me. “He’ll be right out.”
Narrowing my eyes, I nod condescendingly, then turn to the others and try to smile.
“I love it when you go all Penelope Rhodes on people,” Davis says with a wink.
This time when I smile, it’s real, and I feel some of the tension that’s been building in me since the moment we got in the limo to come here start to dissipate.
“Miss Rhodes,” Mr. Stanton says, his voice booming and a little too loud for the space.
Spinning around, I greet the man. “Hello, Mr. Stanton, thank you for agreeing to see me. This is my fiancé, Hawthorn Benedict,” I say, gesturing to Hawthorn beside me. “My sister Izabella, her fiancé Gulliver Winslow, and our friends Kip Tudor and Davis Aldrich,” I say, pointing to them each in turn.
Mr. Stanton greets everyone with a polite nod, then turns back to me. “Penelope, I assume you got one of my letters?”
“Letters?”
“I’ve been trying to contact you. You didn’t get my letters?” he asks, his brow wrinkled in confusion.
“I’m afraid I didn’t, I’m no longer living with my parents.” Glancing over at the receptionist, I look back at Mr. Stanton. “Perhaps we could go somewhere a little more private?” I suggest.
“Oh, of course, of course,” he says. “Please come through to my office.”
Silently, we all follow him into his office, which feels a little crowded with all six of us in here, despite it being a large space. “Err…” He clears his throat, glancing at the hoard of people I’ve brought with me. “Shall we sit? I’ll have Gerald bring in some more chairs.”
“Davis and I are fine standing,” Kip says politely.
“Well, okay then,” Mr. Worth says, moving behind his desk and lowering himself into his seat.
