“I didn’t think she really would.”
“She follows through on her promises.”
“Well, I can’t go.” I sank into a seat across from him and pulled my knees up to my chest.
“Why not?”
“Do you really have to ask that? I would never fit into something like that. I showed up here with two suitcases for my entire worldly possessions. I don’t remember stuffing a ball gown in there.”
Penn cracked a smile and took a sip of his drink. “I’m sure that Katherine would help with that.”
“I don’t need charity,” I spat.
“Katherine would see it as fun, I assure you.”
“I’d never be able to afford it. Or pay her back.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Well, I do worry about it! I wasn’t raised like that.”
“Money is not an object, Natalie,” Penn said evenly.
“Maybe for you.”
“Do you want to go?”
I stared down at the invitation. I did want to go. It sounded like a dream. Or a fairy tale. Something people did in the books I read religiously and in the movies I’d grown up on. But it sure didn’t sound like me.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Then we’ll go.”
My head popped back up. “We?”
“Not together,” he replied hastily when he saw my scrutiny. “But I can drive you into the city and drop you off with Ren. She’ll handle it from there.”
“And the money?”
He shrugged. “Money doesn’t matter.”
“Spoken like someone who has it.”
“For someone who works for people with money, you sure seem to have a great disdain for it.”
I pursed my lips. “It’s not that. I just…I’ve never had money. You and your friends are the haves. I know how the have-nots live. Seeing the other side is magical and depressing. It’s something I’ll never have. No matter how hard I work.”
“That’s not the American Dream.”
“Yeah, as if pull yourself up by your bootstraps works for people like me,” I said sarcastically. “Most people are held down by the circumstances they were raised in. Few have real opportunity to jump classes, Penn. And, even when they do, they’re not really accepted.”
“That’s an incredibly jaded perception of our world.”
“Or an incredibly realistic one.”
Penn reached over and scratched Totle’s head. “Can I ask you a question?”
I shrugged. “You can stay.”
He grinned. “Well, that’s a relief. Though that wasn’t my question. I kind of already guessed that one based on the fact that you’re actually speaking to me right now.”
“Fine. I must be transparent.”
“Trust me. You’re not.”
I blushed at the look on his face that said he wanted to unravel my mystery. “What do you want to know?”
“What were you doing that first day on the beach?”
“You saw what I was doing,” I said with a shy laugh.
“No, I mean, why were you out there in the first place? I could never piece it all together.”
“Oh.” I stared down at my hands. This wasn’t really a story I wanted to tell. Not because I was embarrassed by what I’d done, but more about why I’d done it. How could I tell the person who had everything that I had nothing? How could he even relate to my rejection? It felt like opening myself up to vulnerability that I didn’t know I could handle.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
I sighed and met his gaze. Honestly, what would it hurt? I hadn’t told anyone else about it. I’d even kept it from Amy. She was still learning the publishing process, and she had such faith in my abilities without any real knowledge of how it operated. It might actually be nice to talk to someone who knew about how it worked even if it was from academia and not fiction.
“The day that you and your crew showed up, I had just gotten several nasty rejection letters from my agent. Well, from my agent’s assistant. They basically said that I couldn’t write, my characters were flat, boring, and unlikable, and overall, I was a hack.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. Well, it turned out that I wasn’t even supposed to get those emails, but my agent’s assistant had mistakenly sent me the unedited versions of the letters. I got an apology email Monday morning, but by then, it was too late.”
“Way too late. That assistant should be fired.”
I dismissively waved my hand. I didn’t want to get anyone fired, but yeah, it was a huge mistake. And I still felt the ripple effects of those comments in my current work.
“Anyway, I was so angry that night. I printed out every rejection letter I’d ever received and burned them in, like, ritual sacrifice. Then, for my cleansing, I…well, you know.”
“Skinny-dipped. Yes, I recall that part.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “That’s right. And I felt so much better, like I’d let the weight fall off my shoulders. I was ready to take on the world. Anything thrown my way, I could handle.”
“And then I appeared.”