She felt horribly, painfully empty.

Chapter 23

Cole was 110 percent prepared to hate Evan Barstow.

Not just because of the sketchy way the man had gotten his new job, although stealing someone’s portfolio and presenting it as your own was Villainy 101.

No, what really pissed Cole off about this Evan character wasn’t what he’d done to Penelope’s career but what he’d done to her heart. That Evan had been dumb enough to choose another woman when he had Penelope Pope standing right in front of him.

Moron.

Still, Evan’s loss was Cole’s gain, so Cole was determined to at least pretend to be civil.

But halfway through dinner, Cole’s resolve to play nice was weakening.

Because Penelope was playing too nice, considering how the man had treated her. And considering that she was supposed to be dating Cole.

Granted, his being her boyfriend was a lie. As she’d pointed out at least a half dozen times in the past week, Cole wasn’t actually her boyfriend.

Fine.

Cole had absolutely zero qualms about lying to this son-of-a-bitch for the sake of Penelope’s pride. He was doing a damn good job with his lie. He’d held doors for her, dropped plenty of casual, possessive touches, called her sweetie.

But too late, Cole was realizing that the charade they were putting on for the sake of Penelope’s pride was having a disastrous effect on Cole’s own ego.

This whole thing made absolutely zero fucking sense. Cole had spent most of his adult life avoiding serious relationships. He didn’t have time for his career and Bobby and a woman.

So why did it bother him so much that the only way Penelope would think of him as a boyfriend was if it was pretend?

And why did he want to punch Evan in the face every time he was on the receiving end of one of her smiles?

“So how long are you here, Ev?” Penelope said as she took a bite of fish.

“Just until Sunday for this trip,” Evan said, leaning back in his chair. “But I’m planning on making quite a few New York trips in the near future.”

Penelope nodded at this, seemingly preoccupied with her dinner, but Cole was watching the other man. Noted the way Evan’s eyes lingered speculatively on Penelope, as though she were part of some grand master plan.

Evan Barstow was a good-looking dude.

This alone didn’t bother Cole. What bothered him was that Evan looked an awful lot like Cole.

Evan was bulkier. And maybe an inch taller. But the dark blond hair was similar in both color and cut. Brown eyes, like Cole’s. The rest of his features a little closer to Cole’s than he’d like. Plus, they were both sportswriters….

Cole was struck with an obnoxious thought: What if he was some sort of look-alike rebound?

Was Penelope still so hung up on this asshole that she’d settled for the closest New York version she could find?

The thought burned.

“So, how long have you two been a thing?” Evan asked, transferring his gaze to Cole.

“Not long,” Penelope said quickly, before Cole could answer.

Cole stifled a surge of frustration. What was the point of them playing this little game if she was all but waving the available flag at Evan?

“And you met at work?” Evan asked.

“Penelope and I applied for the same job,” Cole said before Penelope could answer.

Sound familiar? he silently added.

“Oh yeah? How’d that work out?” Evan said with an uninterested little laugh, as though he hadn’t once applied for the same job as Penelope.

Cole slowly, deliberately reached around the back of Penelope’s chair, and rested his hand on the nape of her neck, as he turned to stare at her adoringly.

“I’d say it worked out pretty damn well.”

She glanced at Cole and gave a nervous little laugh. “We both ended up getting offered the job, actually. Co-editors.”

“Huh,” Evan said noncommittally.

“You two used to work together, yeah?” Cole asked, faking ignorance.

Penelope stiffened slightly under his hand, and he rubbed his thumb along the nape of her neck. Trust me.

“Yeah, for a while,” Evan said, taking a sip of his wine.

“And now you work for…refresh my memory on the company name?”

“Sportiva,” Evan said.

Cole frowned, feigning confusion as he kept his gaze locked on Evan. “Sportiva. Wait, Tiny, wasn’t that the company you interviewed for?”

There was a beat of silence before Evan gave a nervous laugh.

Cole looked at Penelope to find her giving him a back off glare.

He glared back, trying to silently communicate. Come on, Penelope. Stand up for yourself. What are we doing here if not to put this asshole in his place?

She merely looked away, licking her lips nervously. “Yeah. I applied.”

Evan set his wineglass down, and his expression went from nervous to earnest. “Actually, Pen, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He shifted his gaze just briefly to Cole. “Maybe later this weekend we can get some time to chat?”

Oh, hell no.

Penelope was silent for several moments. Then, “Sure. Okay.”

Cole’s gaze whipped back toward her. What the fuck?

But she wasn’t even looking at him. She and Evan were locked in some silent bubble of communication with Cole on the outside.

And it fucking blew.

Cole’s grip tightened on his wineglass as he tried to tell himself that it didn’t bother him, but fuck, of course it bothered him.

He wasn’t her boyfriend—he got that. But he treated her a hell of a lot better than this asshole.

He cared about her. A lot.

Just as Cole was wondering if he should make an excuse to leave the table before he made a fool of himself, he felt the soft brush of fingers against the back of his hand. Felt as her hand slid against his until they were palm to palm.

She turned her head then, meeting his eyes, smiling shyly as she linked her fingers with his.

He couldn’t look away, even though he knew this small woman could crack his heart in half.

Aw fuck, Sharpe, you are in so much trouble.

She gave him a thoughtful look and then turned back to Evan. “Actually, Ev, I’m busy the rest of this weekend.”

Cole’s heart beat faster, wondering if he’d heard her correctly, and she squeezed his hand.

“Come on, Pen, it’s just—”

“If there’s something to say, you can say it now,” Penelope interrupted Evan in a quiet, firm voice.

The subtext of Penelope’s statement was clear: You are not worth a second more of my time.

Cole wanted to slow clap.

Evan’s smile faltered. “It’s, um…I was hoping we could talk, just the two of us.”

Penelope shrugged. “You lost that right when you used me to get ahead in your career.”

The other man’s laugh was nervous. “Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. I need to apologize—”

“Accepted,” she said.

Both Cole and Evan looked at her in shock.

She gave a little shrug. “I’ve wasted enough time on you, Evan. You screwed up. You treated me badly. I can continue to hang on to the anger and hurt or…I can move on.”

Evan started to reach across the table toward her, then caught sight of Cole’s glare and thought better of it. “Pen, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed us—”

She held up her free hand—the one that wasn’t linked with Cole’s—and stopped the other man’s words.

“Hold on, Ev, just because I forgive you doesn’t mean we’re going back to the way things were. Even if I were still in Chicago, we can’t go back. You’re not my colleague anymore and you’re certainly not my friend. I don’t know that you ever were.”