Penelope

Two weeks have passed since we got the partnership. Now that we have all the required permits, renovations have begun and my dad is here for a visit.

My dad pulls me in for a hug. "How's my baby girl?"

I accept the affection and don't argue with the baby-girl comment. Although he's not my biological father, I was a baby when he and mom adopted me. Therefore, I will always be his baby, which I'm okay with. Maybe not throughout my teenage years, but now I appreciate the nickname. "Hey, Dad," I smile. "How are you?"

"I'm excellent." He holds me at arm's length. "You look... happier than the last time I saw you." He lowers his voice. "Did you find another lead on your biological parents?"

A smile curves my lips as a cloud of drywall dust dissipates into the air. During his lunch break, Dad stopped by Utterly Uncorked to see how Cassian and I were doing with the project. So far, aside from the drywall dust and broken stone, there isn't much to see. Project aside, I love how Dad supports me. It's tough for an adoptive family to comprehend the importance of finding your biological family, but Mom and Dad have been supportive through it all.

"No," I reply.

He gives me a sympathetic smile. "That's too bad."

I wave his comment off. Discussing my biological parents is a can of worms I don't want to open up. I have better issues to deal with. "I'm happy because Cassian and I got the partnership, as you can see."

My dad is well aware of the antics regarding the business world. So when a smile spreads across his lips and he gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, I know he really means it. Truth be told, it wasn't easy to win the partnership. Cassian and I had to fight with our teeth and nails, and I know it's going to pay off. Elemental Coffee has a reputation in British Columbia, and it's only going to get bigger as we continue to expand.

"It is amazing," Dad smiles. "I'm proud of you, kiddo."

"Where's Mom?" I ask, deflecting his compliment. I've always been terrible at accepting compliments. Besides, my happiness is an act. One I'm succeeding at. The truth is, I'm stuck in a rut of emotional turmoil—today's been the worst Monday of my life. And not because I'm breathing in drywall dust or because I started my period. For the past two weeks, I've been listening to Cassian blab on and on about his upcoming business date with Ophelia. I've been supporting him and telling him he's going to have a fantastic time with his ex-crush. I told him their relationship might turn into something more than a rekindled friendship.

Sometimes, I hate how supportive I can be.

But I could never diminish Cassian's light. It would break my heart to hurt him and spew lies when I can't predict future outcomes. All morning, he's been ecstatic about tonight.

I turn my back to Dad and sigh, staring at the disaster before me. The area is a disaster. Paint cans are piled high in the corner, packaged boxes of hardwood are strewn across the entrance. I'm up to my neck in things that need to be done, and my own emotions I can't seem to separate from work.

"Mom's working today," Dad explains, giving me a reassuring pat on the back. "She wants to stop by and see the progress you've made. Partnering with Elemental Coffee is the best decision you've made, Ellie."

I flip through the binder in my arms and inspect my upcoming schedule. I expect Cassian and me to be here every day this week and weekend in order to oversee renovations. We also have a meeting with a local bakery we're interested in. Local businesses supporting local businesses are a staple for sustainability. We could invest in buying treats, bread, and sandwiches and soups from big corporations like Costco or Walmart, but it goes against our guidelines. We want to be as locally diverse as possible.

Tapping Saturday with the eraser of my pencil, I turn to Dad and nod. "That works. Mom can help Cassian and I taste test the products Baked Desire is bringing in." Last year, Mom and I went out for dinner and it didn't go well. Although she's been supportive about me finding my biological parents, my curiosity hurts her; she thinks I shouldn't be concerned about finding them when it was clear they didn't want me. Their potential rejection worries her, but that doesn't give her the incentive to be ignorant. Since then, our brief encounters have been emotional but also cathartic. The healing process after our explosive argument has taken a while, but it's also made me realize healing happens a lot faster when you stop placing blame and start putting in an effort to make a change.

"I'm looking forward to seeing her," I whisper.

"She enjoyed volunteering at the Farmer's Market with you," Dad smiles.

"I think it was good, too." I focus on smoothing out my papers. Every time I see Mom, the awkward tension dwindles piece by piece. One day, I hope she'll forgive me for succumbing to my curiosity. Not knowing who my biological parents are or if I have any blood siblings is a hunger I can't curb. Ever since the truth about my adoption was revealed, the questions in my mind have been a bottomless pit. I want answers. I want to know where my lineage comes from.

"So," Dad says. "Describe to me what you have planned for the winery." He surveys the room before leaning in and whispering. "How are things with Cassian? Have you asked him out yet?"

I snort, glaring at Ophelia and Cassian. They've been canoodling in the corner for over an hour now, discussing memories and arguing over where they're going for dinner. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and look away. It's easy to blame my jealousy on the two of them, and Cassian's oblivious ways, but I know it's me. I control how I react.

Shoving my feelings down and locking them away, I shake my head. "There's nothing going on between Cassian and I, Dad. I know it's easy to tell I have a crush on him, but I will not tell him and risk ruining our friendship..." I trail off, allowing myself one more glance at him. Today, Cassian's dressed in a black fitted T-shirt and ripped shorts, giving me an optimal view of his dark skin and the obnoxiously charming smile on his face.

I tear my gaze away, cursing at my heart for the way it reacts to his presence.

"He's preoccupied at the moment," I clarify.

Dad stares at Ophelia and her caramel hair and hazel eyes. "She's got nothing on you," he scoffs.

"Thanks for the support, Dad," I laugh. "But I'm not about to swoop in and dictate what he wants. If he ever realizes why I've stuck around him so long, I'll jump on the chance. I have to step back and let him make his own decisions."

God, I sound like a mother watching her baby grow up.

Before my dad can say anything else, I recite a detailed summary of what the space will look like once renovations are complete. The last thing I want is my dad giving me a lesson on love. I refuse to expose my feelings and make Cassian feel guilty. Just like Jake, he deserves a happy ending—even if it's not with me. "I'm excited about the pendant lighting," I continue, gesturing to the ceiling. We had the god-awful fluorescent lighting removed this morning before the intensive construction began. "All products being used are environmentally friendly and contribute to our sustainable practices. I'm proud of what we've done, Dad. I'm proud of Jake and Cassian for starting this and letting me climb aboard. It's going to look fantastic once it's complete."

"I don't doubt it," Dad smiles. "Well, I had better get going. My shift at the office begins soon."

I wrinkle my nose. "Have fun inspecting people's teeth." While I appreciate a trip to the dentist every year, I can't imagine dealing with people's mouths every day as a career. It grosses me out.

Dad chuckles and pulls me in for one more hug. "I'll see you this weekend, baby girl. Bring Cassian along to the barbecue on Saturday."

I give him the two-finger salute. "Noted. Bye, Dad."

He winks before turning and exiting the construction site. When I turn around, I adjust my hard hat and wiggle my toes in the steel-toed boots I'm wearing. They're not comfortable and my toes are feeling numb. I think I may have tightened the laces too much.

In the corner, Ophelia and Cassian burst out in laughter. I keep my face neutral despite the urge to sneer. Goddamn jealously.

Deciding I need to distract myself, I do a loop around the area, taking notes about the progress we've made so far. Today's the first day of renovations. The results are looking promising. All of Patrick's employees are fast and precise. A rush of pride fills my chest as I straighten my posture. Cassian and I made an excellent decision.

While I'm surveying the area, I do my best to avoid impeding the workers. I'm also careful with where I place my feet. Some floorboards have already been ripped up, resulting in uneven surfacing. Near what's left of the counter, I pause and watch as two bulky men alternate between taking jabs at the black-and-white tile flooring. Each time they hit it, it cracks and shatters, revealing a weathered concrete floor beneath.

"Keep up the excellent work, boys," I murmur.

When I spin around, I collide with a hard, sweaty body. The sudden impact causes me to stumble forward. Thankfully, the stranger catches me before I can complete a face plant. "Whoa there," chuckles a deep, rough voice. "We don't want any injuries on site." He rests his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.

When I flick my gaze up, an apology resting on my tongue, I'm overwhelmed by blonde curls and bright blue eyes. His jaw is square and his cheekbones are sharp enough to cut glass. My gaze trails down his peachy complexion to his chest, which I'm at eye level with. I don't think his broad chest and toned biceps result from construction sites.

"H-Hi," I stutter, my cheeks flaring.

He chuckles and leans down to pick up my binder and any loose papers that have fallen free.

"You must be Penelope Montgomery," he says, holding out his hand. "I'm Patrick Collins, your contractor."

My eyes flick from head to toe one more time. Morgane and Hanna would be gaping at Patrick. I take his hand, making sure my grip is strong and business worthy. "I am. It's nice to meet you, Patrick. Cassian told me many great things." And boy, was it a process. I had to work overtime to extract information out of Cassian. I think he was keeping his lips sealed to get back at me for ruining his pack of smokes. Gesturing around me, I give him a curt nod. "This is looking fantastic. I can already imagine what our coffee shop will look like."

Patrick holds my binder out to me, and I take it. He observes the area, taking in the disaster around us. When he makes eye contact with me again, he cocks a brow. "You must have a vivid imagination, Miss Montgomery. All I see is drywall dust, splintered wood, and broken tile." He gestures behind me. "Not to mention the gash in the paint job."

I return his dry sense of humour with a dry smile. "Well thank heavens we're repainting the walls, Mr. Collins."

A sparkle glimmers in his eyes as he chuckles. "Just Penelope, I'm assuming?"

My lips twist into a genuine grin. "Just Penelope."

His mouth pulls to one side. "That's doable."

Because there isn't much for me to do regarding overseeing the project, I'm about to ask Patrick what made him take this route as a career. However, before I can make conversation, Cassian interjects.

"Patrick!" Cassian smiles, clapping him on the back. "I see you've met Penelope. Isn't she a beauty? The brains behind this partnership, if I say so myself."

Cassian's compliment makes me blush, but I hold his gaze steadily, glaring at him. I hate it when he overplays my commitment to this team. All he does is smirk at me. He's trying to goad me until I admit ruining his cigarettes was wrong. Too bad he's never going to get the answer he wants.

Patrick raises an eyebrow. "That doesn't surprise me. She's an excellent businesswoman."

"Cassian also played a part in it," I argue. "He wooed Utterly Uncorked with his knowledge on our sustainable protocols."

Patrick snorts. "I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but no one gives a shit about sustainable practices. Money is all that matters to society. They don't care about what happens to future generations when there are no resources left."

I frown. "While that is true, I believe there are ways to make society shift."

"Oh, I'm not saying it's impossible," Patrick elaborates. "I'm just saying if we're going to save this planet, companies need to make money. And, just to clarify, I'm not against sustainable practices. I believe we need them, too. But good luck convincing ignorant politicians and companies drunk on power and money."

I have to give Patrick some leeway because he's right. Most of society's problems stem from ignorant people who believe our sole purpose is to rape the land of resources and pollute the planet. I toss my hair over my shoulder and square myself up with him. "That's true," I reply. "If we want to resolve these issues, we have to take action. Small companies need to band together to make a statement. It's better to face extinction knowing we tried to do something as opposed to doing nothing at all."

"Amen to that, sister," Cassian replies, holding his hand out for a high-five.

I connect my palm with his, unable to hide the smile on my face. Even if he is infatuated with Ophelia, Cassian is still my friend and I love him.

"I have to agree with that," Patrick sighs. "I like your optimism, Penelope. Society could use more optimism." He reaches into the pocket of his dusty jeans and removes a card which he hands to me. "I should get back to work. Let me know if there's anything you want to discuss. Business or recreation."

Cassian nudges me, a teasing smile on his face. "Looks like someone has the hots for Penelope Montgomery."

"Please," I scoff, tucking the business card in my binder. "This is strictly business. It's wrong to associate with coworkers outside of work."

He presses a hand to his chest. "And what about us?"

I roll my eyes. "It only applies to people who weren't friends to begin with. When you and Jake brought me into Elemental Coffee, we were already friends. That's why we're allowed to hang out and carpool together."

He raises his thick eyebrows. "That was very specific."

I shrug, adjusting my grip on the binder. "Specifics make concepts more understandable. Anyway, I'm going to get going. Things are looking good here. It appears you've got things under control." I glance to the now empty corner. "Where did Ophelia run off to? I thought you two were joined at the hip."

"She has a meeting," he replies, waving off my comment. "But we decided where we're going for lunch. A Thai restaurant in downtown Kelowna. It's supposed to be the best restaurant in town. I'll take you there if it's worth it."

I suppress a sigh. Cassian doesn't know how dates work. If their dinner date turns into something more than a date, I'm going to feel like the third wheel. The third wheel that's pining over a man whose interests lie elsewhere. I can't dim his sparkling light. I don't have the heart to offend him. "That sounds like a plan, Cassian. I love Pad Thai."

"Then it's a date," he smiles, clapping me on the shoulder. "Go home and relax, Pen. I can take over for the rest of the day. Hand that binder over to me."

An uneasy feeling cascades down my spine. Leaving Cassian here might not be a good idea, considering how infatuated he is with Ophelia. He might forget what his job is and focus on her. But going home and relaxing sounds inviting. I could use a bubble bath and a glass of wine after these past two weeks. Getting the proper permits and grants was exhausting and stressful. I need to unwind. "Fine," I sigh, handing him my binder. "Write lots of notes about our progress, okay? We want to keep a firm hold on everything that's going on."

"Ye of little faith," Cassian chuckles, sliding the binder under his arm. "I can do this. Don't worry. Go home, Pen."

With one last glance at Patrick, who has joined in on demolishing the ugly tile flooring, I nod. Look at those back muscles every time he swings the sledgehammer. "Okay. Don't screw this up."

He chuckles again, ruffling my pristine hair. I scowl at him, slapping his hand away. "I would never screw this up. Do you think I want to face Jake's wrath?"

"No," I laugh, turning on my heel. "I suppose not."

* * *

After my bubble bath, a nice big glass of wine, and a raunchy hockey romance novel I borrowed from Gemma before she left, I sit on the back porch, gazing out at the lake and mountains. Although I've been away from the Okanagan for a few years and only visited a handful of times, nothing's changed since my childhood. The mountains across the lake are still scarred from the infamous raging wildfire that happened years ago. The lake is still a deep, menacing blue. A shiver cascades down my spine. I wonder which end the Ogopogo is lurking around right now. People, mainly Cassian, call me foolish for believing in such a thing, but I swear to God it was the Ogopogo who brushed up against my leg.

When Cassian's name flitters into my mind, so do the memories of these past two weeks and today. Feeling indifferent, I shove them away and reach for the novel I was reading. While anything by Elle Kennedy and KA Tucker soothe my needs, Helena Hunting's novels are fire. Who doesn't want a man like Alex Waters in their life?

However, just before I can open the book and begin reading it, my phone goes off.

I flip open the wallet case of my iPhone, frowning when I see Gemma's name on the screen. She wants to FaceTime. My frown deepens. They're not supposed to arrive in Canada until next week. We're only into the first week of September. Why would Gemma be calling me now? I accept the call because my need for answers is apparent. It takes a moment for the connection to come through, but soon, I'm staring at a familiar face.

"Penelope!" she exclaims.

"Gemma," I smile, taking in her tanned skin and glowing blonde hair. Dressed in a tropical-patterned romper, she looks like an island girl. Her hair is styled with beachy waves, her gloss is smooth and peach-coloured, and her cheeks are tinged with sunburn. "God, I miss you. How has Thailand been? I can't wait until you get back—I want to hear all about your honeymoon."

"I'm excited to come home, too," she admits. "I love it here, but the humidity these past few days has been excruciating."

"What time is it there?" I ask, noting the streaks of sunlight on the horizon.

She yawns. "Five-twelve in the morning."

"Jeez, that's way too early." I peer into the camera as if I'm searching the room. "Is Jake awake?"

"No, he's still asleep." Gemma stands up and walks out onto the beach. A pang of jealousy echoes through my bones. Although I can't see much more than the outline of the ocean and surrounding vegetation, I'm jealous of Jake and Gemma. I've always wanted to visit Thailand. "But I didn't call to tell you about the time or how cute Jake looks when he's asleep."

Intrigued, I make a motion with my hand and then pick up my wine glass to take a sip. It's a little early for me to be drinking, but I think it's well-deserved so I'm not looking too much into it. 

"I couldn't wait any longer!" Gemma squeals. From her pocket, she removes a pregnancy test and holds it up to the camera.

The glass of wine slips from my hand, shattering across the patio. The red wine seeps into the concrete, staining it purple. I jerk up into a sitting position, my mouth agape. "Gemma! You're pregnant!"

"I am!" she replies excitedly. "I'm just under three months. The night of our wedding was rather, um, busy."

I comb back through my memories, trying to remember that night. Cassian and I got into the heavy alcohol that night. Most of my memories are hazy with the effects of alcohol. I think I passed out before the celebration started. "Congrats!" I exclaim. "Does Jake know?"

"Yes," she nods. "We both found out last night. So far, we've only told you and Hanna about it." She pauses. "Would you mind keeping it from Cassian until we get back? Jake wants to tell Cassian in person. He thinks shock value will be good for him."

"It will," I mutter.

Gemma shoots me a sympathetic smile. "How have things been with Cassian?"

"The same," I reply. "Though, he is infatuated with Ophelia. They're going out on a catch-up date tonight."

"Aw, Penelope. I'm so sorry. God, I love that man, but he's such a fucking idiot. I can't believe he can't see what's right in front of him."

I wave off her compliment. "It's fine. People love who they want to love. I will not complicate things for Cassian." I pause, biting my lip. "That's something we can discuss later. Have you thought of any names? Do you want to know the gender?"

Gemma adjusts the camera as she sits down, a hand resting on her belly. I want to say she looks a little round in the torso area, but I know it's still too soon to tell. "Jake wants the gender to be a surprise. I want to know. It's something we need to discuss a little more in-depth. As for names, Jake's stuck on Jake Junior if we have a boy."

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. "Ew. Really?"

"No," Gemma laughs. "He likes the names Callan and Everest for a boy. Elina or Lacey for a girl."

My eyebrows raise as I reach for my glass of wine. And then I realize my wine is no longer on the table. I forgot I dropped it."I'm impressed. Those names aren't too bad. Which ones do you like?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Gemma admits. "I'm more worried about having than baby than naming it. I just want to make sure this pregnancy goes well before I commit to naming my kid. You know what I mean?" She pauses and sighs. "But if I had to choose from those names, I like Callan Swift and Lacey Swift."

I push a piece of glass with the toe of my sandals. "Maybe you'll have twins."

She makes a gagging sound. "Ugh. No. I need to test the waters with one baby before I have twins."

"You didn't deny it," I point out. "You wouldn't mind having twins."

A small smile creeps across her face. "Okay, maybe I wouldn't. We want at least two kids—life is no fun without a sibling. Besides, twins would take away from having to spend nine months pregnant again."

"That's a good point," I admit. "I'm so happy for you and Jake. Ahh! I can't wait until you guys are back. Promise me I'm allowed to be there when you break the news to Cassian."

"Of course," Gemma winks. "I love seeing Cassian cry."

I snort, remembering all the stories I heard about Hanna graduating from high school. Apparently, he bawled.

Gemma yawns again, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes.

"Gemma," I say, "you should go back to bed. Sleep in. Once these next six months are up, sleeping in will be a luxury until your kid is a teenager."

"Damn it," she laughs. "You're right. I'll call you in a couple days, okay? I need help to plan out how we're breaking the news to Cassian."

"The better the plan, the harder he'll cry," I cackle. "The poor guy is on the losing end lately."

"Did you destroy another pack of his cigarettes?" she teases.

"But of course," I reply. "I couldn't bear to watch him suffer from lung cancer."

Gemma chuckles and shakes her head. "Nobody can take the caring side of you away, Penelope. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

I smile at Gemma. "Congrats again!"

After Gemma and I have said our goodbyes, I lean back in my chair and gaze at the blue sky. While summer still lingers, I can feel the onset of autumn in my bones. Soon, we're going to be shovelling the driveway and clearing away snow, dressed in touques, jackets, and mittens. While I do prefer the heat, there's something magical about autumn and winter. I think what I love the most is the aftereffects of winter; everything dies and then is reborn in the spring. When everything looks cold and dreary, life returns and injects hope into everything.

From the pocket of my robe, I remove Patrick's business card and contemplate my options. Maybe having a nice dinner with him wouldn't be a bad idea. It would distract me from Cassian.

Deciding I have nothing to lose, I type his number in and shoot off a quick text message, still feeling high from Jake and Gemma's wonderful news.