Holiday Terminal, page 3
“Oh, Pen, that sucks. Can you get out of there? Rent a car or something? Poor Max. What about Santa?”
What about Santa, indeed…
I sigh, the list of my failures as a mom flashing before me.
But Santa is the least of my worries. “All of that just...sucks, but it isn't the most important thing at the moment.”
Her laughter trickles through the line. She doesn't know the severity of my situation yet. “What could be worse than Santa not showing up for a five-year-old child? That's pretty awful. Is there a souvenir shop where you could pick up a few presents for him until—”
“Artemis Warren is here, trapped with us in this airport.”
A long silence greets me from the other end of the line.
“Kristy? You there?”
“Uh, say what now? Artemis is there?”
“Yep. What are the odds?”
Kristy’s squeal blares through the speaker. “Oh, my freaking God, Pen! Does he know you're there?”
I swipe away an errant tear. “He hasn't seen me yet; I don't think. I'm hiding in the bathroom.”
Like a coward. Like I'm the one who’s done something wrong when it's really Artemis who got us in this situation to begin with.
“But you saw him? You're sure it's him?”
“Oh, it's him. They called his name over the intercom. It is most definitely him.”
A vision of him strutting through the airport, like it was his own personal runway, flits through my head.
God, he's so freaking hot.
All hard lines, chiseled jaw, muscle, and man.
I bet he still has those washboard abs, too. The bastard.
“Is he fat? Bald? Did he grow a wart on his nose?”
I chuckle.
If only.
Kristy always knows how to get me out of my own head.
“I wish, but no. He’s just a handsome as ever. More so, if that’s even possible. What in the hell am I going to do?”
Silence greets me again. Then…a double beep.
“Kristy? Are you there?”
No answer. I look at my phone. The call dropped.
Dammit.
The universe hates me.
I turn, drop my phone into my purse, and examine my reflection again. Some of the redness around my eyes and in my cheeks has faded, but I’m still a hot mess. “Okay, Penelope Barnes, you've got this.”
Women see their exes every day, right? No big deal. Except it is a big deal. It’s a huge freaking deal. Avoiding Artemis is top on the priority list, but just in case I can’t, there’s no way I’m letting him see me like this. There's no way the first time I face Artemis since that day he stomped all over my heart will be with me looking like hell.
I'll be damned if I allow him to turn me into that sad, heart-broken, seventeen-year-old girl again. I left her behind years ago and buried her deep. No way she’s digging her way out of that grave.
Some things should stay buried.
A makeup touch-up helps, and I fluff my hair and rake my fingers through the long strands. Better.
Not perfect. But not the hot mess I was only minutes ago.
I adjust my dress to showcase the girls. If I have to see him, I will make him regret every damn decision he's ever made since that day on the beach.
Every. Last. One.
I slowly inch open the door and peek out into the terminal area. Mom and Max still sit on the far side, occupied with something on his tablet. I take a step out and crane my head to the left down toward the office.
Is Artemis still in there?
If I get to Mom and Max quickly, maybe I can usher them out of here before he sees us. I step out of the bathroom fully and start to make my way across the terminal.
“Pen? Is that you?”
That familiar voice, smooth as caramel with a little hint of fire that always had me stripping off my clothes for him wraps around me, and it's like I’m seventeen again.
A shy, naïve girl from the small coastal town with no experience with men. The girl who so easily handed herself over to the boy from the big city, even though she knew he was only there for the summer. The girl who gave him her heart and her virginity. The girl who was left behind when he went home. The girl who wasn't good enough for the Warrens.
It's like the six years since then never existed.
Despite the false bravado I just conjured in the bathroom, one look at Artemis Warren…and I'm just that girl. He's just that boy.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming and turn to face the man who holds the power to destroy me.
ARTEMIS
When that bathroom door opened and she stuck out her head, the familiar dark hair and profile made my heart skip a beat.
It couldn’t be her.
But when she stepped out completely, and I got a good look at the woman emerging, all the air rushed from my lungs.
Penelope Barnes.
Penelope fucking Barnes.
Here.
Now.
Frozen in front of me in mile-high stilettos that make her impossibly long, toned legs look like they go on forever. With her back still to me, I watch her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath.
She turns slowly, and I climb from my chair on legs more unsteady than I’d like to admit.
My hands shake, and I fist them at my sides to hide my reaction to her.
“Warrens don’t get emotional. Warrens are rocks.”
“Pen. Oh, my God, what are you doing here?”
She plasters on a fake smile, the one she always used on other people but never on me that summer, and finally, her green eyes meet mine. “Artemis. How are you?”
I slowly close the distance between us because she already appears like she’s about ready to crumble. It’s the same look she gave me before she left me standing there on the beach and wouldn’t let me explain. After she took my heart and smashed it into a million pieces.
And she's asking how I am?
That might be the most asinine question ever coming from her. “I am…good.”
I guess?
Her eyes travel from my face down my suit to my shoes then back up. “You look good. Exactly the man I'd always pictured you’d grow into.”
“Why doesn't that sound like a compliment?”
“Probably because it isn't.”
Ouch.
That stings more than I thought it would, even though I know how she felt about my family back then. Even six years haven’t softened her disdain for them.
And really, I can’t say I blame her.
The Warrens have expectations. They have responsibilities. The Warrens have a code and a set of rules. I was always going to be Artemis Warren the Third. Grandson of a former United States Supreme Court Justice. Son of a current US Senator and CEO of one of the largest family-owned corporations in the world.
I was always going to go to law school and become a politician and head of the family business. It's what was expected of me. And I've blindly followed every rule in the book since that day on the beach.
Maybe stupidly. Maybe without truly thinking about what it had and was continuing to cost me. But I did it.
I stop my advance with a mere foot separating us. A hard gust of wind buffets the terminal, sending the windows along one wall rattling. My eyes never leave her face, though. The storm can rage outside as hard and for as long as it wants. Penelope Barnes is here.
Her bottom lip quivers, and her gaze darts around anywhere but on mine.
Why is she so nervous?
She's the one who walked away that night, not me.
Shouldn't this be awkward for me, not her?
I should be the one holding the grudge. The one carrying the anger. Yet, she’s acting like I’ve harmed her somehow like I was the one who crushed her heart and spirit, all her plans for the future.
She clears her throat. “I assume you’re a lawyer now?”
Another cold question. I clench my jaw and give her a sharp nod. “Graduated from law school in the spring.”
“You working for your father?”
I bite back a curse. She knows the answer is yes. She doesn't need to ask, but admitting it means I went back to following the rules. I fell right back in line after our little dalliance oceanside.
The very thing we fought about that night.
“I help with his New York senatorial office and also the family business.”
Her lips twist into a frown. “Of course. And how is your mother?”
I grimace and shove a hand through my hair. The disdain she holds for the woman who gave me life drips off every letter of the word mother. “She's well.”
No doubt three drinks in by now and greeting the early comers to the party in a tight, cleavage-showing dress and draped in the most expensive jewelry Father and Grandfather have ever bought for her.
That party is all about the show. All about emphasizing how powerful the Warrens are and why the attendees should feel privileged we deign to give them any form of attention.
Pen’s eyes bore into mine.
God, if looks could kill, I'd be dead a hundred times over.
Anything that was ever there between us is definitely over on her end. The love I once saw burn deeply in the evergreen depths of her eyes has been replaced by a fiery hatred.
But why?
“What are you doing here, Pen?” I glance around the terminal for a second, trying to place why she might be in this out-of-the-way small town on Christmas Eve. “Do you…work here?”
I can't think of any other logical reason she'd be here tonight. She can’t possibly live nearby. She wouldn’t leave the cape and her parents.
She scoffs at me and rolls her eyes. “You would think that, wouldn't you? Do I look like I fucking work here, Art?” She waves her hands up and down her exquisite body.
My eyes trace her—the perfectly fitted black dress that hugs every curve, the classy heels she never would have been caught dead wearing six years ago, her polished and professional makeup, hiding those freckles on her nose that I love…
Loved.
So damn different from the natural beauty she sported back then.
My God, she grew up into a stunning woman.
“No, you look amazing. I mean, I just can't think of why else you're here.” I spread out my hands, showcasing what just might be the tiniest airport on Earth.
Of all the places to run into her.
I've dreamed of this moment, seeing her again, so many times, it’s almost surreal to have her standing in front of me now, within reach, at least physically. I’ve fantasized about what it would be like, what she would be like. I never once imagined she'd be full of this attitude and sass.
Maybe life dealt her a bad hand and turned her bitter?
I hope that's the furthest thing from the truth. I hope she's gotten everything she's ever desired since I last saw her, even if those desires no longer include me. I could never, under any circumstances, wish her ill. Not after what we shared. Even after what she did to me.
She sighs and blows a strand of brunette hair off her forehead with a puff of exasperated breath. “Our plane had to land because of the storm.”
Our…
Of course, she has a boyfriend or is married.
I don't want to ask. I don't want to know, but I also do.
I need to know everything that's happened in her life since the last time I saw her. The day she walked away from me and took a piece of my heart with her.
The sudden lump in my throat makes it difficult to swallow, but I manage. “Our? You're here with…”
Only I don't get to ask.
Her small hand shoots up. “No. That’s none of your damn business. Not anymore.”
Jeez.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Christ, Pen, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pry. I just…”
She taps her foot and crosses her arms over her chest. “You just what?”
“I’ve missed you.” The words slip out before I even think of saying them.
Her entire body goes rigid. The quiver returns to her bottom lip. She clenches her fists at her sides and breathes deeply. “You don’t get to say that to me, Artemis. You just don’t.”
The shrill ring of my phone steals the reply on my lips. I tug it from my pocket and glance at the screen.
Athena.
Of course.
I hold it up toward Pen. “It’s my sister. I have to take this and let her know what’s happening.”
She waves a hand at me. “Take the call. We’re done here, anyway. It was nice to see you, Artemis. Merry Christmas.”
Pen turns on her heel and marches toward the offices on the far side of the terminal.
What the hell just happened?
My phone continues to ring. “Shit.” I accept the call and run my hand over my chin. “Athena?”
“Artemis, what’s up?”
Besides my blood pressure?
“Uh, nothing. I’m sure you’ve heard about my plight.”
“Plight?” Her peel of laughter has a smile spreading across my face despite what just went down. “Don’t even try to pretend you’re upset about missing this party, Art. I’m hiding out in my bathroom right now, avoiding Grandmother. She’s been trying to drag me down to the ballroom for an hour.”
I can perfectly envision Athena sitting on the chaise in her bathroom, in an elegant party dress, probably with a bottle of vodka tucked into her garter belt. “Don’t pretend you hate it so much.”
She laughs again. Athena is by far the most difficult Warren child, but only because she’s the one who doesn’t always say yes to everything. She’s the one who has always stood up to them.
I can’t think of anyone else I envy more.
“I should be home tomorrow, sis. Just keep your shit together until then, at least.”
“I make no promises, bro. Enjoy your respite from the family.”
I’m about to say I won’t, but my eyes travel to the office door Penelope just marched through only moments ago.
Maybe being stranded here isn’t such a bad thing after all. This might be my chance to figure out what happened between us.
I mean, where can she go?
Chapter 4
PENELOPE
What the hell just happened?
It feels like I've been buried under an avalanche. I’m suffocating inside this airport. It's too small. Too closed in. There’s too much…Artemis Warren.
The weight of our conversation sits heavily on my shoulders. My reaction to him…
God, I was such a bitch.
I couldn't stop myself.
It felt good.
After all these years, I finally got to show him how I feel about him. How I feel about the way he dumped me and shattered my heart into a million pieces.
Walking away from him now felt like getting back a little bit of the power he stole from me then.
Bravo for not looking back, Pen.
If I had, I might have drowned in those ocean-blue eyes again. I might have fallen into those strong arms. I might have kissed those perfect lips.
And that can never happen.
My hand shakes as I turn the knob on the door to the office. Adrenalin courses through my veins, propelling me forward.
I'm getting us out of here.
No way can I go through that again, or worse, if he figures out the truth… That would ruin everything.
Our pilot and the guy who held the door for us sit near what looks like a radio set up. An older gentleman glances up at me from behind a desk.
I plaster on a smile I certainly don't feel and step up to him. “Hi. Would you happen to know the latest on the weather?”
He looks down at his computer, then back at me, and frowns. “I'm afraid it's about the same. This system is stalled over us. They're calling it The Hundred Year Storm. This area hasn't seen this type of snowfall in decades.”
Of course.
Seriously, what did I do to deserve this plate of crap I keep getting served?
I brace my elbow on the counter in front of the man's desk and drop my head into my hand.
Flying out today is off the table. Now, onto the next solution. It's time to get a little personal with this guy. I need answers; hopefully, he has some. I need him to help me get the hell out of this airport.
I lift my head and dig out that fake smile again. “I'm Penelope. What's your name?”
“I'm Clarence. Nice to meet you.” He offers his hand.
I shake it and peek down at the photos on his desk. He’s a family man. With grandchildren.
Bingo.
“Clarence, are these your grandchildren?”
He looks at an image of several small children gathered around him in a rocking chair, and a smile lifts his lips. “They are. I have eight grandchildren and two great-grandbabies.”
It’s time to tug on his heartstrings. Maybe guilt will get me away from Artemis Warren.
“Clarence, could you imagine if they were stuck at an airport without a Christmas?”
His loving gaze travels over the photos. “I reckon that'd be just about the saddest holiday I could think of.”
“I agree, Clarence.” Time to bring on the waterworks. I sniffle to add a little something to my performance. “Do you see that little guy out there?” I point through the window in the office toward Max and Mom.
They still sit completely oblivious to the fact that my carefully orchestrated world is falling apart around me.
“That's my son, Max. If I don't get Max out of here, he's not going to have a very good Christmas. I'm afraid I've sent all his gifts ahead to our destination.”
Clarence stares at Max. His lips twist into a frown as he takes in Max playing his game with Mom. The thought of that little boy not being visited by Santa bothers him.
Exactly as I hoped.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that tugging on someone’s heartstrings often gets you further than appealing to logic.
“Clarence, is there somewhere nearby where I can rent a car? I really have to get to Cape Harmony, North Carolina, today. It's Christmas Eve, and I will have a very disappointed son if Santa is a no-show.”
He refocuses his attention on me. “There is a rental car place about ten miles north of here.”
