Chapter 70
Theodore scoffed. Her motives were so transparent. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have indulged it, but…
“Fine.”
With Penelope, three minutes, five minutes, or even longer didn’t really matter.
The reception ended. Having stuck to her promise of no alcohol, Penelope didn’t need to call for a driver.
She didn’t see Theodore as she was leaving and felt a pang of anxiety. She had wanted to confirm their “five minutes,” which was critically important to her.
In the parking garage, as she approached her car, Zebulon emerged from the shadows.
“Penelope, I’ve been waiting for you. Let’s go home together.”
She glanced around. Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan and Rebecca were nowhere in sight; they must have left already.
“Your home and my home are not the same place. Let’s not,” she said, unlocking her car and preparing to get in.
“Penelope, I misunderstood. I apologize,” Zebulon said, grabbing her wrist.
She pulled her hand free. “Don’t bother.”
“Penelope, I only get jealous because I love you, because I care about you. You can understand that, right?”
“No, I can’t, and I don’t want to.”
“It was a misunderstanding. It’s resolved now. Let’s just drop it.”
Penelope scoffed. He made it sound so simple.
“Hey, whose jacket is that you’re wearing?”
“None of your business.”
She had been in a good mood and didn’t want Zebulon to ruin it. She ignored him and got into the driver’s seat, but he opened the passenger door and slid in beside her. Orıginal content can be found at.net
He rubbed his temples. “I drank too much tonight. My head is spinning. When we get back, can you make me some soup to sober up?”
“Get out.”
Zebulon pretended not to hear. He took her hand, his voice laced with suggestion Stay at my place tonight. It’s been too long since I’ve properly made love to you.
Disgusting.
“Do I have to spell it out for you? Get. Out.”
Zebulon frowned. “Penelope, I’ve been more than patient with you. Can you just stop with the drama?”
“If you don’t get out of this car right now, I’m going to get physical,” she threatened, raising her handbag.
Zebulon’s face darkened. He was
already on edge. His family had been
slighted at the banquet, which- infuriated him, and now Penelope
was pushing à y his buttons instead
of being supportive.
“You want me to get out? Don’t forget, I bought you this car!” he said coldly.
Penelope took a deep breath. She couldn’t deny that. She tossed the keys at him. “Your car? Fine, you can have it back!”
With that, she got out and started walking toward the garage exit.
“Penelope! I’m not going to be the first one to back down this time! If you want a divorce, fine!” Zebulon shouted at her retreating back.
She sneered. A divorce? They weren’t even married. The moment she had said they were over, it was truly over.
She had planned to hail a cab, but it was late, and there were none in sight.
Just as she was trying to figure out what to do, a white Maybach pulled up beside her.
The driver opened the rear door. Inside sat Theodore.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” she said politely.
“If Ms. Laurier doesn’t wish to accept, then
“I’ll take it!”
Fearing he would change his mind Penelope scrambled into the cart was part of her professional code use every opportunity to get closer to the client.
She immediately prepared another pitch in her head, but when she turned to speak to Theodore, she found his eyes were closed.
Was he ignoring her?