Chapter 39
As it turned out, Zebulon did come.
He arrived in forty-five minutes, not even the full hour. The drive from the Sullivan estate to Rebecca’s apartment took forty minutes, and that was if you were speeding. It meant that even though he hadn’t called, Zebulon had been watching her every move. He had probably been sitting there, obsessively refreshing her social media page.
He was more obedient than any dog. Rebecca was practically choking on her
envy.
To make matters worse, Zebulon had arrived with a bag of groceries and was now
in the kitchen, making Penelope’s favorite beef pasta. From the moment he’d walked in, Penelope hadn’t even bothered to look at him.
“Zebulon, you must be tired after a long day at work. Let me cook,” Rebecca offered sweetly.
“Stay out of the kitchen!” he snapped, not even looking up from the meat he was chopping.
Rebecca thought he was worried about the cooking fumes bothering her and was about to swoon, but then he added, “Penelope only likes my beef pasta. I have to do every step myself. If anyone else interferes, the taste will be all wrong p>
Rebecca’s face fell. “Well, I haven’t really eaten either p>
“Then go finish your dinner. Don’t get in my way p>
This time, there was no hiding the bitter disappointment on her face. Her appetite gone, she returned to the living room to find Penelope curled up on the sofa, scrolling through her phone and laughing hysterically at something she was watching. Penelope didn’t have to grovel and scheme for Zebulon’s affection; she got all of it without even trying. How could Rebecca not be jealous?
Penelope was watching videos Mr. Johnson had sent her of his son as a child. The little boy in the videos was adorable, with cherubic cheeks you just wanted to pinch. She couldn’t help but wonder how time could have been so cruel, transforming this beautiful child into the scrawny, sun-burnt man he was today.
When she got to the video of the slightly older boy so engrossed in a book that he walked straight into a stray dog and was then chased down the street, bawling his eyes out, she burst out laughing.
Mr. Johnson: I have a whole collection of these gems. I’ll share more with you later.
Penelope: Forgive me for asking, but has your son had plastic surgery?
Mr. Johnson: What do you mean?
Penelope: He looks just like you.
Mr. Johnson sent a series of smug emojis. We are father and son, after all! Penelope: A little ugly p>
Mr. Johnson: What’s wrong with your eyes? You should see an ophthalmologist!
The old man, thoroughly offended,
went offline. Penelope watched another video, a sudden wave of melancholy washing over her. Time hadn’t just been cruel to Mr
Johnson’s son, it had been cruel to her too. After all, she was supposed to marry the man.
“The beef pasta is ready p>
Zebulon presented the steaming bowl to Penelope like a trophy, setting it down in front of her along with a fork and spoon, his eyes shining with anticipation.
Penelope ignored the utensils. “Have you figured out how to explain the red thong yet?” she asked.
Zebulon adjusted his glasses. “The other night, a woman tried to flirt with me, but I ignored her. I guess… I guess she was upset, so she stipped it into my pocket when I wasnt looking.
“Hah. Do you honestly believe that yourself p>
“It’s the truth p>
“So, there are really women that
shameless in this world?” As sheet
said this, she shot a quick glance at Rebecca, whose face was beginning to turn a pale shade of green.
“I was shocked too p>
“Utterly trashy, right p>
Zebulon hesitated for a moment. “Yes p>
The word had barely left his lips when a loud crash echoed from the dining room. Penelope turned to see that Rebecca, while clearing the table, had dropped a plate.