Positively penelope, p.27
Positively, Penelope, page 27
Date: October 28
Subject: Re: The royals
I’m glad all your hard work is paying off, Penny-girl, but I just don’t get the fascination with royals. I mean, they’re people. Rich and popular, maybe, but folks who have to eat and breathe to survive like the rest of us. Though I’ll admit that anyone who can keep their posture that straight for so long has to have a solid grasp on perseverance.
“Great guy hair”? I’m going to leave that alone.
Luke
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Penelope Edgewood, Luke Edgewood
Date: October 28
Subject: Re: The royals
Can you feel my blush from here? Oh my goodness, every time I relive that moment of criticizing her library, I feel my face burn to volcanic temperatures. Of course she remembers! She’s a queen. I’m sure they remember all sorts of things from weird people they meet.
But the museum looks amazing, and to have a copy of that photo, Penn! What a treasure! Hearing Grandpa Gray speaking in the background with that amazing Skymarian accent! Oh heavens! Isn’t it delicious? Was that deeper voice Matt’s? PENELOPE!! His voice sounded like . . . what? Melted chocolate?
Izzy
PS: Your dress for this ball needs to be a stunner. That’s all I’m saying.
Text from Luke to Izzy: “Melted chocolate”? You two are gross.
Izzy: Hey, if you know, you know.
Luke: Or you’re just surrounded by lots of people who really don’t know.
Izzy: Maybe you’re the one surrounded by people who don’t know.
Luke: I’m surrounded by dogs for a reason.
From: Penelope Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood, Luke Edgewood
Date: October 28
Subject: Re: The royals
He does have a great voice, doesn’t he? Swooning for hours! I wonder if his kiss is as decadent as his voice? Oh dear, I shouldn’t have written that. Not so much to protect Luke’s virgin eyes but more to keep my thoughts from turning in the kissing direction of Matthias Gray! I can’t think about him that way. I can’t! I’m leaving. And he may not even care about me in a romantic way.
And, Izzy, the Captain von Trapp analogy did NOT help with my attempts to keep my mind in a neutral space. At all! Though, if I’m being completely honest, Matthias would look fabulous in those classic suits. ACK! Stop, brain! Stop!!
Clearly, me and neutral thoughts are not working.
On a different note, Alec was so complimentary about the museum. He said he’d never realized the lengthy and touching history behind the theater, and this visual representation really brought it to life. I’m not sure what to think about him. He seems more emotional than most girlfriends I’ve had. Back and forth. One moment debonair and charming, and the next kind of sullen. It’s so weird. Anyway, he said that Grandpa Gray and the theater group should do something for me as a thank-you, but I really do just love doing what I get to do. I’m not sure why that surprises Alec so much, but I guess he hasn’t experienced it before. I hope he gets a chance someday. I think he’s just so caught up in his own . . . self, that he hasn’t recognized what a great family he has and how important deeper things really are. Having money and looking great aren’t the only ingredients for a successful life. Though, as a caveat, you all know how much I adore looking great. I mean, the shoes! And hats! And lipstick!
Matthias and I talked about that type of love this afternoon while we had tea together and went over final info related to our parts of the ball. I think, at one point, Matthias truly loved what he did (even accounting, which I find completely shocking), but he’d lost that love . . . until recently. And the dance lessons with Jamie have really changed things for him. I think he’s even considering teaching classes again in the new year.
In fact, last night after-hours, I was leaving later than planned because I’d helped Kinleigh create a proposal for her internship. Anyway, I noticed lights on in the Gray Theater. Heard music too. I snuck into the back of the house and there Matthias was, performing the entire “Singin’ in the Rain” choreography done by Gene Kelly. He even used the lamppost from Narnia. It was beautiful. I knew he could dance, but this . . . wow!
I snuck out before he caught me watching, but truly, y’all. He has a gift!
And really nice arms.
Penelope
PS: Luke, you have great hair. Thick and wavy. It’s your beard that’s the trouble.
Text from Luke to Penelope: I might point out that the king of Skymar has a beard.
Penelope: Yes, but he actually trims his more than twice a year. You know, clean-shaven looks really good on you. Women adore a cleft chin.
Luke: And now I will aim for a Gandalf beard forever.
* * *
Text from Penelope to Izzy: You won’t believe this! Grandpa Gray gave me a dress for the ball. And not just ANY dress! He took me to a special closet in his house filled with elegant, vintage-style dresses that used to be his beloved wife’s and he asked me to choose one for myself.
Izzy: What? That’s amazing. Is it amazing? I mean, I know you like vintage, but it’s a nice vintage dress, right?
Penelope: Amazing. Better than I could have afforded, unless on consignment. And I couldn’t make up my mind between three of them, so I asked him to choose. He chose the one his wife loved best. Isn’t that THE SWEETEST THING EVER!! It makes me adore the gown and the man even more.
Penelope: Here’s a photo I took last night, but of course, I need different shoes than my red sneakers.
Izzy: Penelope! Pale blue. It sparkles like starlight. You remind me of a redheaded Arwen. Wow! The color contrast is perfect.
Penelope: Don’t you think silver heels would be superb? I’m going shopping during my lunch break to look nearby. Squee! A handsome man, a borrowed dress, and a ball!! I’m living a fairy tale.
* * *
The Gray House bustled with crowds of people once again, there to show faith in the Darling’s success as much as in Matt’s family. Friends, donors, business owners, artists, and even a few gentry, likely from Grandfather’s connections.
Matt’s gaze found Gwynn, dressed in astonishing red, as she assumed her role of hostess alongside Grandfather. Yes, the theater had a ready future on the horizon, especially when Gwynn took her rightful place at the helm soon.
Her theater. Her inheritance.
That had always been her dream.
And his dream?
His body relaxed into the realization of having found those long-lost dreams again. This setting only fueled the magic of it all. With the evening glow of sunset shining pinkish-gold hues through the tall windows and each door framed with greenery and twinkle lights, the room became its own fairyland, beckoning him forward toward his dreams. And—his grin deepened—perhaps his own happily ever after.
As a string quartet invited some of the more interested, dramatic, or gifted folks to use the ballroom for its original purpose—to dance—his gaze searched for his two favorite pixies.
He’d left Iris in Penelope’s care, his little girl ecstatic with the idea of “getting ready” with Penelope—which seemed a mutual pleasure. Gwynn had convinced Penelope to plan to stay the night at the house so that she wouldn’t have to walk back to the cottage after the ball, but they’d had little time to converse. Not with all the preparations. But he’d quieted his heart to the resolution of embracing each day of Penelope Edgewood’s acquaintance, whether romance bloomed or they maintained their friendship alone. He rubbed at the center of his chest, where the thought of her returning to the States still ached like a bruise.
But she’d never planned to stay. The very idea of an internship meant temporary.
And she’d never sought out a romance with him, so the decision to initiate one had to be hers.
He turned his gaze heavenward, his thoughts ushering up a little plea. His heart couldn’t link “temporary” with Penelope in any scenario of his mind.
He knew now. He wanted forever.
But how could forever work? He was needed here. She wanted to go there. It was an impossibility.
Yet he’d thought saving The Darling House an impossibility three months ago, until Penelope.
Until Penelope . . .
As if summoned by his thoughts, a flash of pale-blue and gold shone in his periphery. He turned, his attention immediately drawn to the little princess in red running toward him, her silver mask sparkling with copious amounts of glitter and a few crooked rhinestones. All of her blonde hair spun in myriad curls upon her head and a tiny little crown—the one he’d seen on Penelope’s head before—nestled within those beloved curls.
“Daddy, I’m a princess.” Her arms wrapped around his waist as she looked up at him. “Penelope let me wear her princess crown.”
At Iris’s mention of Penelope, Matt raised his gaze to the object of his thoughts. Penelope walked forward, pink lips in a broad smile and green eyes sparkling behind her silver mask. No, more like glided. Or something. He wasn’t quite sure, except that the pale-blue gown she wore poured over her like liquid starlight, only pausing to hug various parts of her body in a rather fetching way. One side of the gown boasted a sheer long sleeve, while the other side showed her bare shoulder, complete with a generous sprinkling of freckles. She looked as if she’d stepped directly from a storybook, and his breath held in utter appreciation.
He dragged his attention from the distraction, heat branching from his increased pulse to his neck. Thoughts unraveled in dangerous synchrony about her lips and those curves and his need to hold her.
Yes, he’d moved well beyond friendship. Well beyond. And he needed to prepare his heart for the devastating possibilities.
All of Penelope’s hair curled atop her head in a similar fashion as Iris’s, and pink toenails peeked from a pair of silver heels. How could he deny fairy tales when he’d just stepped into one?
He faintly remembered Iris speaking and pulled his gaze back to his daughter.
“That was very kind of her to let you wear her crown.”
“A little girl needs to wear a crown once in a while,” Penelope added as she closed in. “And Iris has some catching up to do since her daddy had lost sight of fairy tales for a while.”
His gaze came back to hers, unswerving. “I believe I’ve revisited my previous ideas about fairy tales, Miss Edgewood, and found I was wrong. You’ve more than proven your point. Where would we be without a little magic now and again?”
“Not in the theater, that’s for sure.” Her smile split wide. “And tonight, well, everything looks so enchanting.”
His attention followed the lines of the gown again only to return to those beautiful green eyes of hers. Indeed.
“You certainly look the part.” He waved toward her. “Stunning. Absolutely.”
Her nose scrunched with her smile, and she leaned in, nearly derailing his self-control with her nearness and her scent. “This was your grandmother’s. Can you believe it?” A soft laugh bubbled from her. “Grandpa Gray gave it to me.”
His palm went to his chest. Yes, Grandfather saw it too. The joy and effervescence of his grandmother glowed in the person of Penelope Edgewood. The same beautiful soul. The same faith in people and dreams and . . . the impossible? “Quite fitting, luv.”
The endearment emerged, every time, without premeditation. It simply fit her.
“You look wonderfully handsome in tails, Mr. Gray.” She stepped back and studied him from head to toe, then her gaze stopped on his face. “Even with a crooked mask.”
“A crooked—”
She reached up to straighten his simple black mask and her shoe hit his, sending her a little off-kilter. He steadied her with a palm to her elbow, but the movement kept her close. His palm slid up her arm, her skin cool and soft beneath his touch.
“All fixed,” she breathed out, and her tone made him wonder. If the mask hadn’t cloaked her full expression, would he have been able to see her attraction?
In a previous life, he’d have been more demonstrative, more certain. But after Deirdre and with the uncertainty of Penelope’s interest, not to mention willingness to commit to a long-distance relationship, he doubted himself at all turns.
“Penelope!” someone called, their voice distant.
Penelope blinked up at him and then turned.
Grandfather marched forward with a small entourage of five people trailing behind, rather prestigious-looking folks too. “Dear girl, I have some local businessmen and artisans here who’d like a word with you about your marketing strategies.” He waved toward his group. “May I pull you away for a moment?”
She glanced back at Matt as if waiting for him to respond.
What to say?
“Promise me a dance, won’t you?” A lifetime of them, even?
Her smile quivered wide. “I would love that.”
* * *
She shouldn’t be disappointed about not dancing very much. Truly. The ball served a strategic business purpose: bringing together people who loved The Darling House, and not only showing appreciation but allowing these people to converse and deepen the bonds of community. Because communities worked together. And working together was what it would take to keep The Darling House existing as a for-profit theater for a very long time.
The masquerade had seemed like such a great idea until Penelope realized she wouldn’t be able to make out Matthias’s expression when he saw her for the first time. Of course, it was every girl’s dream to leave a man speechless. Not forever, but a good ten seconds of gathering his wits after looking at her as if she’d stepped from a dream. That Cinderella moment or the Hallmark-princess moment.
She internally sighed. But he had told her she looked stunning, and he may have offered more if they hadn’t been interrupted. When he’d caught her in her stumble and his palm trailed up her arm, all she wanted to do was lean in and give him full access to her lips for, like, at least five minutes. A vision of him in his tux flashed back to mind. Okay, maybe ten.
He probably kissed wonderfully well.
She fanned her hand in front of her face as she moved from one introduction to another, her internal temperature taking an uphill climb into dazzling proportions. What would Matthias do if she kissed him? Just to break the ice? After all, he’d been the one to have his heart betrayed and smashed. He might need a little encouragement in the kissing direction.
Grandpa Gray took her around the room, introducing her to various people, showering her with praise for her work. He’d even shared how he’d been in touch with JMC, after doing his own search for The Ashby Theater, and JMC and Grandpa Gray had engaged in a Penelope lovefest.
She glanced around the beautiful room, taking it all in. This life of magic and theater and parties was part of her future. She was doing exactly what she was meant to do.
Then why did she feel the teeniest bit of sadness?
She knew.
On the stage, the heroine got the family and the home and the dream too. But real life didn’t always work that way. One happy ending sometimes had to bow to another. One had to become more important than the other. Her heart pinched. And her choice gave her two of the three. The dream job and home. Her eyes fluttered closed. But oh, how she wanted the knight.
“Are you up for a dance, princess?”
She looked around to find Alec standing before her, every bit the heart-stopping Chris Pine look-alike she’d fantasized about from the time she was fourteen. Tux trimmed to perfection. Hair in perfect waves. Smile, faultless.
But her heart failed to pitter-patter even once.
Funny how dreams changed when the heart finally knew what it wanted—and needed—most.
“I thought you said you didn’t dance.”
“I said I didn’t”—he raised a brow and offered his hand—“not can’t. But don’t expect anything close to Matt’s skill. I learned well enough to appease my mother, and even taught a few classes, but I’m no award winner.”
She slid her hand in his and he drew her to the dance floor.
“You really are the belle of the ball tonight, Penelope Edgewood. Everyone’s talking about you.”
“It’s the hair color.” She nodded with a grin. “People always talk about troublesome redheads.”
“You know it’s much more than that.” He chuckled. “I still can’t believe all you’ve managed to do in such a short time. And Grandfather said you have one more miracle to reveal tomorrow in an interview with the local news.”
“I do.” She squeezed her shoulders up with excitement. “They’d asked for an interview about the return of the Darling House ball anyway, but Grandpa Gray and I decided it would be an excellent time to get the news out about a surprise, upcoming Christmas performance.”
He stared at her, brows raised, and then his jaw slacked. “You didn’t.”
She gave a little squeal. “I did.”
“The Sound of Music? How? That’s utterly impossible.”
“You keep using that word.” She dipped her chin. “I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Her quote from The Princess Bride took much too long to inspire his smile. “Then this calls for a definite celebration. As I said before, you deserve something remarkable as a thank-you for all you’ve done.”
“I was just doing my job, Alec. And it was a pure delight. Loving what I do and having the opportunity to fall in love with the people here has been the biggest celebration for me.”
“No additional recognition?” His tone almost mocked. “No reward?”
“Is that why you do what you do? For the recognition?” she challenged him. “There’s something much bigger than that. You have a family who loves you so well. You have a history built on such beautiful people like your mother and grandmother.” She leaned closer. “There are bigger and more beautiful things worth fighting for than the bottom line, the spotlight, and the rich connections.”
“Very laudable, Miss Edgewood, but in reality, the rich connections make the world go round.”
