She blinked…and for some reason, her stomach clenched with joy at the realization that he was taking the same flight. “I wonder what the chances of that are,” she murmured.
“Very high,” the stranger remarked with a grin and pointed over her shoulder. “The gate is right there.”
She laughed. “Okay, that’s true.”
The man nodded, amused, took another sip of the good whiskey, and then let his gaze wander over her. Not in an intrusive way, more like a…curious one. It was charming; his gaze was a compliment. And Penny had the feeling that he had been practicing for decades to look like that. Not like he was sleazy, but in a way that made women feel beautiful in his presence — even if they were sitting in front of him without makeup, with bedhead, ketchup stains on their white linen pants, and trashy sandals. In fact, Penny’s only respectable piece of clothing was the bright red winter jacket she was sitting on.
“So, where are you from?” he inquired. “Why are you going to LA and what’s your name? I don’t want to have to keep calling youspitting whiskey thiefin my mind.”
Laughing, she tilted her head back. “You surprised me. I would have choked if I hadn’t coughed up the whiskey. And I am…” She paused.
She’d been close to saying her full name. She’d been taught to do so decades ago. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head:Don’t be falsely modest, Penelope. Let everyone know who your family is and how best to google you!
The problem was that after the debacle a few years ago, her name had become rather infamous and almost every Americanshe told asked if she wasthePenelope Clark, or at least related by marriage to the businessman and multimillionaire. Since she was a terrible liar and, as his daughter, didn’t like lying, anyway, her confession was usually followed by hundreds of questions. And the revelation that she was flying to LA because she might soon own a hockey team was certainly not something her counterpart would simply accept without asking questions.
So, she held out her hand and said, “I’m Penny. I have to go to LA for family stuff and I just arrived from Buenos Aires, where I was working.”
The man took her hand. His was surprisingly rough and large, as if he worked with them a lot, even though she assumed he had an office job. He remarked in an amused tone, “There was a very long pause before your name.”
She grimaced. “I know.”
“Is it real, anyway? Or did you just drug me with the drink, and I’ll wake up in three hours without clothes or my wallet?”
She laughed. “The clothes thing is tempting — I haven’t seen a naked man in ages. I think it would be worth starting again with you.” She glanced at him meaningfully. “But I’d let you keep your wallet. I don’t need it.”
He grinned. “I see. So, you’re single.”
Her cheeks grew hot. “What?”
“You haven’t seen a man naked in ages.”
Oh, that. “Well, maybe I’m only interested in women. Or maybe I’m in a happy relationship that is so intellectually satisfying that any physical contact seems unimportant.”
He leaned toward her so that his scent of pine forest and whiskey enveloped her and then whispered, “I don’t think so. You only say things like that when you haven’t hadphysical contactfor a long time. So, is your name really Penny? Or am I actually flirting with Roswitha? Or Candy Blue?”
She laughed again, her chest tingling with anticipation. Was he flirting with her? That was what her mind automatically focused on. Although, more importantly, he had immediately understood that she was hiding something from him and had only been in a relationship with a battery-powered boyfriend for ages.
Damn. The guy was charmingandattentive. That was bad. It meant she would almost certainly be in the newspaper soon. Her face would be plastered on the internet and, since he lived in LA, he would see it and…oh, she just wanted to be herself for a few more hours, without thinking about having to fulfill expectations that she had never come close to a single day in her life. At least, that was her parents’ version of her story.
“My name really is Penny,” she murmured. “Penelope, if you must know, but nobody calls me that. So…You know what?” She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “I appreciate you being polite enough to ask, but I have a suggestion. We’re going to sit here for another half hour and then get on the same plane. You’re funny and likable.”And hot. “And I’d like to talk to you some more. But could we not reveal our last names and not talk about what we’re doing here and what we’ve done and who we really are and why we’re going to L.A.? I don’t like to lie, but I don’t want to talk about it, either. So, let’s just be friendly strangers who talk about everything under the sun, but not about family and work? Anonymous but honest? What do you say? You can keep me awake until we’re on the plane — and I can entertain you with more death statistics or tell you which whiskey you should order next.” Filled with hope, she lifted one corner of her mouth because this guy might be exactly what she needed just then:
Distraction.
Chapter Two
This is probably the best idea anyone has ever had, Jack West thought to himself and immediately relaxed.
If anyone knew how liberating anonymity could be, it was him! He had been called a traitor loudly, to his face, about three dozen times in the last few days by complete strangers. Somebody had even thrown an egg at him. He’d played for the New York Predators for eight years, but since he’d moved to LA, his former fans had lost a lot of love for him.
Thank God, the person he was talking to didn’t seem to know anything about hockey — otherwise, she would have recognized him. And if she found out that he played professionally, she would probably bombard him with questions and start acting strangely – something many people, especially women, did in his presence. He liked the idea of just being himself. Jack – under cover, but Jack.
Not Jack “The Saint” West. Jack “The Traitor” West. Or Jack, “the hot rich guy I’d like to sleep with so I can tell my girlfriends” West.
Penny didn’t seem superficial like that. She was unvarnished and more of a natural type, although you never knew what kind of person was hiding, behind the facade. If he’d learned onething in the last few years, it was that he could only trust a handful of people. So, if Penny didn’t know who he was and didn’t want to know, he had one less thing to worry about.
As luck would have it, he found her funny and likable too — and hot, if he was totally honest about it. This was mainly due to her confidentI-know-who-I-am-and-I-own-itattitude. Jack liked to flirt, but he never took anyone home with him during the season. Relationships, affairs, even just casual sex distracted him too much from his game. Flirting, however, was okay. Continuing to talk to her about death by vending machine was also much better than sitting here in silence, alone, thinking about the last few, incredibly exhausting days.
He knew that most people enjoyed Christmas. For him, however, it had lost its shine over the last twelve years and meant nothing but loneliness. This year should have been different: He had his family back, even if his relationship with his brother and sister was still a bit rocky. And then, a few weeks ago, he had received a call that he hadn’t been able to ignore and…fuck, now he was thinking about it.
