Chapter 38

“A complete mess.”
Penelope smiled. In college, she had won gold medals in numerous design competitions. Rebecca had always participated too, but the best she’d ever done was an honorable mention. Rebecca, however, always blamed the judges, convinced she was an undiscovered genius.
“Just a friendly reminder,” Penelope said. “We spent nearly three months refining that proposal with the KINY Group. Starting over is the easy part. The revision and adjustment phase is where it gets tricky. Even if you’re incredibly accommodating, I doubt the KINY Group will be willing to waste that much time again.”
Rebecca shrugged. “That’s because your design had fundamental flaws. I’ll avoid those simple, foolish mistakes. I’m confident that when we submit my new proposal, the KINY Group will have very few objections. It will probably be approved on the first try.”
“Wow,” Penelope said, her voice dripping with mock admiration. “Our very own accomplished Rebecca. So impressive.”
Confidence was a good thing. Overconfidence, on the other hand, was just a failure to recognize one’s own limitations. Rebecca was a textbook case.
“You must be hungry. I’ll make you dinner,” Rebecca said, getting up.
“Let’s just order takeout.”
“You’re a guest in my home. I can’t let you eat takeout.”
Rebecca gave Penelope an affectionate hug and then headed to the kitchen.
Penelope played on her phone for a while. When she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, she saw Rebecca on a video call with Mrs. Sullivan.
“Penelope can’t stand takeout, so as soon as I finished my work, I came to the kitchen to make her dinner.”
“The nerve of her!” Mrs. Sullivan fumed. “Making a pregnant woman cook for her!”
“She’s still angry. I don’t want to upset her.”
“You’re just too soft, that’s your problem! That’s why she walks all over you!”
“But she’s my best friend.”
“I doubt she thinks of you as a friend. More like her personal maid!”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
Penelope took a sip of her water. After all these years, she never knew Rebecca was such a drama queen. Her personal maid? What kind of maid gets half her mortgage paid by her employer? What maid has her employer handle all the arrangements when her father dies? What maid gets a job hand-delivered to her by her employer? Even if Rebecca wanted to be her maid, Penelope wouldn’t have her. A dog would be a better investment; at least a dog wags its tail when it sees you.
But since Rebecca was so determined to play the part of the long-suffering servant, Penelope was more than happy to oblige.
“Rebecca,” she called out from the living room, “I’m craving an apple. Could you peel one for me?”
Rebecca, eager to solidify her image as Penelope’s victim for Mrs. Sullivan’s benefit, immediately replied, “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
Mrs. Sullivan, overhearing this, was even more incensed on Rebecca’s behalf. “Who does she think she is, ordering you around like that?”
Throughout dinner, Rebecca was the picture of attentiveness. She served Penelope’s food, placed choice morsels on her plate, and when Penelope “accidentally” dropped a piece of vegetable on the floor* Rebecca dutifully bent down to pick it up.
“You said Zebulon would be here
apologize by now,” Rebecca said trying to sound concerned but failing
to hide her smugness alt on’t
look like he’s coming tonight.”
Penelope took a bite of her food. She wasn’t surprised. Rebecca had obviously said something to him.
“Oh.”
“That’s why I’m telling you not to be
SO
Don’t assume Let
can’t live without you. If you just apologize, km sure we’ll forgive you
“Apologize to him? What did I do wrong?”
“You made a terrible scene last night. You embarrassed him.”
“He was the one who cheated!” ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ.net
“Men… they slip up sometimes. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Penelope scoffed. “Rebecca, when did your morals become so twisted?”
“I’m just trying to help you,” Rebecca said, her voice sharp with annoyance.
Penelope smirked. “You want him to come, don’t you? That’s easy.”
She took a picture of her dinner, posted it to her social media, and added a
simple, one-word caption: “Tasteless.”
Rebecca frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Time me,” Penelope said. “He’ll be here in under an hour.”
Rebecca laughed. “Do you think he’s a dog? That he’ll come running just because
you whistled?”