There are no shows booked for a few weeks anyway, and what I’m doing right now has nothing to do with him or show business.
A simple, firm text to him before I switch my phone off sees that easily taken care of.
Following Penelope’s bus to her office is easy too.
Finding a parking spot? Not so much so. Even early on a Saturday morning, the downtown streets are packed.
By the time I do get into the building I still have no idea where to find her, but I do recognize one of the security team in the foyer.
He used to work for us and is more than happy to help me find Penelope’s floor.
Still recognized wherever I go. I’m held up in the elevator and again when I do reach Penelope’s floor by her boss of all people, who it turns out is a huge and life-long fan.
Who would have guessed?
She tells me she’s the chief editor and was the one who arranged for Penelope to go to the show last night, so I guess I should thank her.
But spotting what I came for, I dismiss her and stride towards the one thing that makes me tick now.
Penelope.
I’d never have picked her for a journalist, but then again my thoughts on the subject of Penelope haven’t exactly extended to what it is she actually does for a living.
I thought she was a waitress, now she’s a science journalist to boot.
I keep forgetting that times aren’t as easy as they used to be.
That professionals often work two or more jobs just to get by sometimes.
A part of me wants her to know that she never has to work another day in her life. But I also understand that she can’t just drop everything and run away with me.
As much as I’d like her to.
So I offer to help, actually volunteering more information about some aspects of my act that I’ve never told anyone else, ever.
There’s just something about her I trust.
Like I could tell her anything and know she’d never misuse any information.
She sure is one of a kind. I can see and feel that already.
It doesn’t surprise me though when she decides to skip the insider knowledge angle, settling for a ‘let the reader draw their own conclusions’ type article.
Neither totally for nor totally against what she saw last night.
As far as my performance goes anyway.
I’m assuming this energy between us has a different story to tell, but she is a shy and conservative girl.
Shucking this oyster is gonna take more than just a steady, firm hand.
A sprinkle of magic and some patience is in order.
She’s mine for dinner, I’ve already told her that much.
But once her article is done and her boss okays it without even reading it when I hand it to her, I’ve got Penelope all to myself for the rest of the day.
And I plan to use my time wisely.
Her whole office seems to freeze, looking on in shock as I say my goodbyes and sign a couple of things, leading Penelope out with my hand on her back.
There’s no mention of her next assignment either, which suits me just fine.
“I’m not gonna have to come looking for you again,” I caution her with a cocked brow as we make our way out of the building.
She’s hugging her laptop to her chest, looking like a fish out of water as she blinks up at me.
“Just say you’ll be mine. For today at least,” I offer, meeting her halfway so she doesn’t die of shyness.
She readily nods but reddens and looks down at her feet.
Up close, when we’re alone Penelope is fine.
But as soon as we’re anywhere near other people she seems to freeze up.
I have more than one cure for a frozen girl.
Mmm, could be an idea for a new act…
The honk of a horn grabs my attention, and right on time, our ride is here.
No tin can car for my girl, no fucking way.
I’ve had a limo sent over with my driver from the other night, John, and told him in advance that he’s gonna be driving a VIP around.
And it’s not me.
I don’t even need her to tell me she’s never been in a limo. Penelope’s eyes widen as I watch the large car pull up.
I only like them because they’re the one car big enough for me, but apart from that? It’s just an overpriced car with way too many windows.
She’s still white-knuckling her laptop before I lean over and pry it from her small hands, helping her into the car.
“You can leave your stuff here, it’ll be safe,” I promise her, noticing her body shiver when our fingers touch.
My body reacts too, but I wouldn’t exactly say my raging hard on was shivering right now.
“You must think I’m an idiot,” she finally blurts out, gradually relaxing as the car moves through traffic we can see but can’t hear.