Imperfect Penelope (Wild Crush) (16 page)

If anything, Bryan appeared relieved that Greg had come to the obvious conclusion. He let out a weighty sigh. “Not much.”

“How much?”

“A few grand.” Bryan’s gaze darted away from Greg’s steady one. “Eight and a half.”

Greg swore under his breath. It wasn’t the amount that disappointed him, it was the fact his brother had gone down this road, when he’d looked in Greg’s eyes and
promised
he was done with gambling once and for all. He’d seemed to mean it. His shame had certainly been real.

It was real now too, Greg realized, seeing that Bryan still wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. Shame simply wasn’t enough to keep him from his habit.
Addiction
, Greg corrected. His brother was an addict.

“Why, Bryan?” Greg asked, wanting to understand something that made little sense to him. “You never wanted for things. We grew up in a great house, went to the best schools…”

“All things that
Dad
provided. Don’t forget that. He never let us forget that.”

“Dad’s a pompous ass.” Greg had never actually said that out loud, but on some level he’d always known it was true. He’d left them, allowing their relationship to dwindle to occasional visits at Christmas, during which he would subtly list each and every way his sons had disappointed him that year. The
honorable
judge. It was a joke. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t get it,” Bryan said in despair. “You were the good son. What good was a B average when you got straight As? Why bother trying out for the relay team if your older brother was already running anchor? Why even try to make something of myself, if I wasn’t going to be a lawyer, like my
brother
? Nothing else would have impressed him.”

“You can’t impress Dad,” Greg said, shocked that Bryan still thought that was possible.

“You impressed him. He might not have told you, but he sure told me. Every chance he got. ‘At least if you had your brother’s work ethic, I might think there was some hope you’d do something with your life.’ That’s what he said to me last time I saw him. Last year, just before you got married. Or almost did. Ha!” Bryan let out that miserable laugh. “Finally, Greggy boy screws up. So I figure here’s my chance. I make it big, make my own fortune. Then he’ll see how wrong he was.”

“Bryan…”

His brother went on, looking Greg in the eye, his dark irises bright with the light of true belief. “I’m
good
at this, Greg. I can read tells, calculate odds fast, in my head. Maths was never even my best subject at school, but I can do that. I can outsmart people. I can
win
.”

“Apparently, not more often than you lose,” Greg pointed out.

“Fuck you!” Bryan roared, his eyes flashing fire. He stalked over to Greg’s desk and started pulling out drawer after drawer. “All I need is another shot. I know you keep that old checkbook around here somewhere. Where is it?”

Greg watched his brother rifle through his drawers with frantic movements. His heart was a leaden thing in his chest. His eyes burned. A memory came to him with cruel timing. He was on the manicured lawn of his parents’ house, holding a cricket bat, encouraging Bryan to bowl. Bryan couldn’t have been more than five, Greg a mere thirteen. Bryan tried and tried to hit the stumps but no matter how badly Greg would bat, the ball wouldn’t connect. At least not until it hit Greg on the foot and rolled backwards—with a little help from the edge of Greg’s sneaker.

Bryan had been excited to have bested his big brother. How long had Greg been helping his younger sibling, giving him a little push here, making things a bit easier for him where he could? Defending him no matter what he did? When Bryan had broken the antique vase in the front room, Greg had taken the blame. There were other similar incidents over the years, too many to name them all. Protecting Bryan, his little brother by eight years, had been second nature to Greg from the moment his mother had brought him home from the hospital.

He’d protect him always. He’d protect Bryan from himself.

“Bryan,” he said. “I can help. There are places I can take you, treatment centers that can handle your problem.”

“What? No. Just a couple of checks, that’s all I want. Fuck. Won’t you even give me that? You owe me.” Bryan’s eyes narrowed on Greg as he found an angle he thought he could use. It was a calculating look, one that chilled Greg. “You owe me for Penny.”

“No, I don’t. You never loved her.”

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. Penny might not believe him, but he knew the truth in his heart. He loved her, and he’d prove it to her. But not tonight. She’d indicated he needed time and as it turned out he did. He needed time to save his brother.

Bryan scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever. Mum will have a pink fit if you take a veggo left-wing voter home to meet her, but it’s your funeral. This is locked. It’s in here, isn’t it?”

Bryan tugged on the top drawer on Greg’s writing desk. It wouldn’t budge.

“It’s made of Tasmanian oak,” Greg said, sounding strangely calm. “Brass locks. You won’t get it open.”

Swearing, Bryan put his sneakered foot on the edge of the desk and pulled harder on the knob.

“Even if you break it apart and find the checkbook, I won’t write you one. I won’t give you any more money, Bryan. I told you that last time.”

“I know what your signature looks like.”

“You’re going to forge checks? That’s your big plan? You’re going to commit fraud so you can win your fortune at poker, and you think that will impress Dad?”

Bryan didn’t answer as he yanked on the drawer. Greg came farther into the room, slowly, like he was circling a wild animal.

“It’s no use, Bryan,” Greg said gently. “It’s time to let it go.”

Bryan cursed at the drawer, one long drawn-out syllable that roared out of him until there was no breath left in his body, and the sweat on his palms made him lose his grip on the knob. He fell backwards, landing hard against the wall. Greg heard the plaster give way and flinched. He watched as Bryan grew motionless, his face screwed up in anguish. A sob shot out of him, a mournful wail that broke Greg’s heart, and Bryan sank down to the floor and wept like a baby.

Greg approached him, his own eyes stinging. Very slowly, he sat beside Bryan. He reached out and put his arm around his brother’s shoulders, drawing him gently into his side. His breath caught when Bryan clung to him and cried, the way he’d done when he was little and had skinned his knee. Greg felt the wetness track down his own cheeks because in that moment he realized his little brother was broken.

Greg held him and crooned soft assurances for as long as it took. Long minutes while Bryan emptied his misery. When his sobs had ebbed and he eased out of Greg’s arms, Greg said, “There’s a place on the outskirts of Sydney. I looked into it when you first… I’ve looked into it. I can take you there, but you have to sign yourself in. That’s the rule. Will you do that?”

Swiping at his eyes, Bryan nodded. “What about the money? I owe a short-term finance company, the interest rates…”

“Give me the details. I’ll take care of it.” He added in a flat voice, “It’s the last time.”

“I know.”

Bryan seemed more sure of that than Greg was.

“I’m s-sorry,” Bryan sniffled. “I know I fucked everything up.”

“I know you know.” Greg just hoped he’d remember that throughout the recovery process, which could take months and would require a lot of self-reflection on his brother’s part. “You can start fixing it now. We’ll leave tonight. Stop on the way if we have to.”

“Okay.” Now that the fight had gone out of him, Bryan had turned meek. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve one final time and looked Greg in the eye. Greg could tell how hard it was for him to do that. “I’m sorry for what I said about Penny. That’s real? You love her?”

“I do.”

“Good. That’s good. She’s nice. I wasn’t nice to her though.”

“No. You weren’t.”

“She keeps her rent money in a tea canister. I was going to go there tonight and…” His words trailed off as color stained his cheeks. He looked back down at his knees. “It was about nine hundred I took last time. Do you think you could—”

“She won’t take it from me,” Greg cut off the suggestion. “Says it’s your debt. You’ll have to pay her yourself, when you’re back on your feet.”

Bryan’s spine straightened, and for a moment he seemed to fill with purpose. “I’ll do that. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I just wanted him to…I don’t know. I wanted him to be proud of me.”

Greg understood the desire to make their father proud, no matter how impossible it seemed. He’d done that. Gone to law school without even thinking if that was what he wanted. He was a good lawyer, as it turns out, and he’d probably stick with it. Unless he decided to quit one day and buy a coffee van, park it at the beach and watch life go by.

He smiled at the thought. Penny would think that was a brilliant idea, as long as it made him happy.

“I thought if I won big, I could go home and flash all that money in his face, you know? Dumb idea. But I thought maybe he’d look at me, just once, and I’d feel like he thought I was
somebody
.”

“You are somebody.” Greg’s voice caught as he touched a hand to Bryan’s shoulder. “You’re my brother.”

Chapter Fifteen

Penny woke to the sound of a high-pitched meowing that was worse than a cordless drill being turned on right next to her ear. She rolled over and blinked until Maleficent’s pointy little face came into focus. The cat was sitting nose to nose with her, glaring.

“What’s your problem?”

Maleficent didn’t deign to reiterate her meow, now that her purpose—destroying Penny’s attempt to forget her misery in extended slumber—had been achieved. She merely continued to glare accusingly.
You know what you did, lady.

Oh she knew what she’d done all right. She’d lost the plot, that’s what. The man of her dreams had said he loved her, and she’d kicked him out.

Penny groaned. “Go away,” she told the cat, before rolling onto her side and pulling the pillow over her face.

She heard the light pitty-pat of the feline’s feet on her quilt as Maleficent departed in disgust. She sighed. It was no use anyway. She was awake. Had been awake on and off throughout what felt like the longest night in history. Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and crying, which she kept doing no matter how many times she told herself it was stupid. He’d said he
loved her
. It was supposed to be a good thing.

But his words had only been words, uttered in the heat of the moment after they’d shared the orgasm to end all orgasms. The way he’d held his body stiff all through
Runaway Bride
, the way he’d physically flinched when she’d mentioned her church-wedding dreams, those were actions. Everyone knew actions spoke louder than words.

He was still holding on to a lot of pain, and she couldn’t let herself be used as a salve any longer. It was too terrifying to know she was in love one hundred and fifty percent, while he didn’t even have a full complement of his heart to give her. Not until he let go of his ex-fiancée once and for all.

The thought of perfect Rochelle made Penny sick to her stomach. In her mind she pictured Angelina Jolie, only more beautiful and with a greater dedication to charity work. How was she supposed to compete with that? It was possible telling Greg to go be with her was a colossal mistake.

Well, she didn’t tell him to go
be with her
. She suggested he talk to her, to tie off the loose ends of their relationship. Surely Greg wouldn’t interpret that as a suggestion he get back together with the woman.

Not wanting to think about that too long, Penny got out of bed in a flurry of movement and headed for the shower. Some calming yoga might have helped, but it was too late. She had to get to work.

When she arrived at the clinic, Summer told her she looked terrible. Penny thanked her grouchily and went about her day, numbing herself by concentrating on client after client until it was time to shut up shop and go home to obsess about the fact Greg hadn’t called.

He’d called or texted her every day since she’d given him her number. Penny had gotten used to those messages, had started to look forward to them. His radio silence sat heavily on her chest. By the time Penny crawled into bed that night, the weight was heavier than an anvil pressing down on her. Not a single word from Greg. She thought of texting him but she had no idea what to say.
I’m sorry?
She wasn’t sorry for the words themselves. She couldn’t run full pelt into a relationship with a man who still had one foot in his last one.

But my God, this
hurt
. Being without Greg
hurt
. Penny missed him so much she cried herself to sleep and woke seven hours later to the sound of her phone ringing.

She knocked it off the nightstand in her haste to grab it, falling out of bed in a tangle of sheets in her panicked attempt to retrieve it from the floor. Her knee slammed into the hard wood, and Penny cursed as she found the device and pressed the accept button. “Hello? Hello? Are you still there?”

“Barely. Took you long enough to answer.”

Hearing Hope’s voice was like a sharp jab to the stomach when she’d hoped…she’d hoped… Penny struggled to issue a croaky greeting. “Hi.”

“Shit. You sound bad. Got a cold?”

Penny sniffled loudly. “No.”

“Oooh, I interrupted something, didn’t I? You and the lawyer banging the headboard?”

Penny answered in one long, high-pitched whine. “Noooooooo.”

“Uh-oh.”

Using the sheet to dab at her eyes, Penny took a shuddery breath and tried to control her wayward emotions. “We had a fight.”

“What about?”

“The effect Julia Roberts had on his mood.”

“Ah…I’ll give you some advice for free. Julia affects all guys like that. It’s the long legs.”

“Not like
that
,” Penny said, wishing all she had to contend with was a harmless crush on a movie star. “It’s complicated. And I’m probably going to be late for work already.”

“Tonight then. Friday-night girls drinks. I’ll call Em.”

“Okay, if you want.”

“When do I not want Friday-night drinks? I’ll text you later with the details.”

Penny agreed meekly and hung up, doubting she’d feel like downing fluffy cocktails anytime soon.

Somehow she got it together and went to work, but her heart wasn’t in it and the bags under her eyes could probably carry enough supplies for a European vacation. At a little after ten, Summer bailed Penny up in treatment room one.

“Mr. Freshwater just canceled, and I don’t have another appointment for thirty minutes. We’re going out to get tea.”

Penny blinked in surprise. Summer wasn’t usually bossy. “Pardon?”

“Tea. Now. Come on.”

Summer clicked her fingers commandingly, looking quite fearsome for a woman of five feet two who could barely waddle from room to room. Figuring a cup of tea wouldn’t go astray anyway, Penny followed orders. Summer stopped to flick the
Back Soon
sign over on the front door, and together they headed to the Beach Break Café, where they ran into Summer’s sister Jasmine.

“Oh hey, you two.” Jasmine pointed to the sweets cabinet in front of her. “What looks good, the caramel slice or the berry custard tart? I feel like something wicked.”

“Don’t you always?” Summer retorted. She surveyed the selection of treats. “The berry tart looks more your style. I’ll have an apple slice, no cream. What do you want, Penny?”

Penny glanced at the selection in the display case with minimal enthusiasm. “Nothing. Just a cup of green tea.”

“You’re sure?”

Penny rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Do I look like I need to fatten up or something? I don’t feel like anything. That okay with you?”

A look passed between the two sisters that made Penny feel like a lab experiment they were telepathically exchanging notes about. Penny ignored them and found a booth in the back, nabbing it before anyone else did. A few minutes later, Penny was surprised to see Hope and Emily walk into the café. Hope spoke to Summer quickly, before spotting Penny in the booth and heading her way.

“What are you doing here?” Penny asked, her look of shock encompassing both her sisters.

“I called Summer and asked her how you were today,” Hope said as she sidled into the booth opposite Penny. Emily came around and sat beside her. “She said you looked like shit.”

“What I
said
was you looked miserable,” Summer corrected as she approached the table and sat beside Hope. Or tried to. Her stomach was too big for the booth seat. Jasmine got her a chair from a nearby table and told her to sit on that while she took the booth seat beside Hope.

Penny cast a sideways glance at Emily. “And you’re here because…?”

“Hope called me.”

Her gaze passed over Jasmine, who shrugged. “I just have lucky timing. I love an intervention.”

“A what?”

Penny glared at Hope, who stared back unrepentantly. “I decided Friday-night drinks wasn’t soon enough. You were moaning on the phone this morning.”

“I was not
moaning
.”

“Wailing then. Sort of crying but with this high-pitched
ooooooh
sound.”

“Oh, was it sort of like this?”

Emily made a sound in the back of her throat, like she was trying to clear something out of it. Hope frowned at her. “No, you sound like you have a phlegm issue. Penny sounded worse.”

“Like a wolf howling at the moon?” Jasmine offered.

“More like a wolf that’d been shot and left in the woods to die.”

Summer bestowed a sympathetic look on Penny. “Oh, Pen. You could have taken the day off, you know.”

“I didn’t need the day off,” Penny said through gritted teeth. She cast a look around the group of women. “And I do not need an intervention.”

Emily covered Penny’s hand with hers. “Pen, I know this look. I’ve felt like how you look. You’re miserable, and it’s obviously got something to do with Greg.”

“Hope’s been filling you in, huh?” Penny deduced.

“I told her you’d finally picked one who didn’t seem to be a loser,” Hope said. “But I’d be willing to revise my opinion if he’s responsible for making you wail like a dying wolf.”

“I did
not
wail!” Penny crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back against the booth seat. “I couldn’t quite control the urge to cry when you mentioned him, that’s all.”

A chorus of gently murmured
uh-huh
s
sounded from each of the other four women. It was like a meeting of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.

“But I’m fine,” Penny insisted. “It’s better if I keep busy. I need to go back to work and…”

“Penny,” Summer said gently. “I don’t think you realize how invested we all are in seeing you find the right guy. We want to help.”

“Yeah, you dragged me into your love life months ago, and it’s like
The Bachelorette,”
Jasmine said. “I need to see how this ends.”

Summer hit Jasmine on the arm. Jasmine protested and rubbed the sore spot. Then the waitress came over with a tray full of mugs, and there was the usual jostling as each person confirmed what they’d ordered. When at last everyone had the correct drinks and cakes in front of them, they all turned to Penny expectantly.

Emily was the one to prompt, “Well?”

Penny sighed and let it all out, the abridged version anyway. There was obviously no getting out of it, and actually she felt bolstered by the support of such good, strong women, her sisters and friends. It meant a lot that they cared about her. This was the kind of support healthy relationships could provide. Didn’t Greg see what he was missing out on?

When Penny was finished with her story, right up until the point that Greg walked out of her house, promising to give them time, a silence descended on the group. Penny took a long sip of her tea, thirsty from all the talking. When she looked up, they were all staring at her, their expressions ranging from blank to mystified to…

Cranky. That last one was Hope’s. Of course. And of course, she was the first to speak.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Penny flinched, taken aback. “Huh?”

“Do you know what I would have given for Dylan to once, just once, say he loved me?”

“He never did?” Penny asked, appalled.

“Nope. He hinted at it vaguely with questions, like ‘you know how I feel about you, right?’ and ‘what would I do without you?’ etcetera. But unequivocal statements about his emotions? Too damn hard for the monster-wave rider.”

“It took Brand two years to tell me he loved me,” Emily chipped in. “I knew he did, but saying the words was hard for him.”

“What are you telling me?” Penny asked in frustration. “That I should have ignored the fact the thought of getting married makes him break out in hives and let myself love a guy who’ll never go there? Who might not be over his ex?”

“No, you can’t ignore that,” Summer said gently. “But perhaps demanding he commit to marrying you was a bit of a stretch.”

“I didn’t. I told him I didn’t want to get married right now, but I needed to be with someone who at least wanted to
want
to marry me someday. That’s completely different.”

“Ah, not really,” Hope said. “Guys hear the word ‘marriage’ and it always makes them pee their pants, no matter what the context. Bringing it up two weeks in is kind of a no-no.”

Penny stared at them all, her sisters and supposed friends. So much for the support of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. “You all think I’m wrong.”

“I don’t.” It was Jasmine who’d spoken, and everyone turned to stare at her. Jasmine stared back defiantly. “What? I can’t have an opinion? The guy told her he loved her before she was ready. A dumb move on his part. When Aaron dropped those words on me, I freaked out too. I ran.”

“You almost lost him forever,” Summer pointed out. “And you pissed me off as well.”

“There’s that,” Jasmine conceded. “I had to fight hard to get him back. But rejecting a guy’s love is a completely valid form of behavior.” Jasmine pinned Penny with a dark, challenging stare. “If you want to be an emotional screwup like I was.”

Penny looked at the beautiful woman sitting on the other side of the table, with her long, glossy dark hair and striking face and the sexy red blouse she wore with such confidence. No doubt, she was a looker. However… “No offense, Jas, but I’ve never once wanted to be like you.”

Jasmine smiled a little, unoffended. “In that case you’d better grow a vagina and go talk to the guy.”

Summer, who’d just taken a sip of her chai latte, almost choked on it. “Grow a
vagina
?” she repeated, coughing.

“It’s never made sense that they say grow some balls.”

“She’s right,” Emily agreed. “Balls are sensitive—vaginas are tough.”

“You ought to know, Miss Two at a Time,” Hope teased.

Emily showed her sister a smug look. “You sound jealous.”

“Bloody oath I am.”

“Do you think you could all stop talking for two damn seconds?” Penny broke in, irritated. “A girl can’t hear herself think.”

A hush fell over them while Penny scrambled to get her bearings. She’d screwed up, that’s what they were all telling her. Greg had said he loved her, and like Jasmine had with Aaron, she’d run. Not physically, but in her mind. She loved him too, she’d known that before he even said those words, but saying them back was…