Penned Read Online Free PDF

so.
     
    Why am I leaving? He seems like a nice enough guy.
     
    Her humiliation flooded back, and she wanted to vomit.
     
    I'm so pathetic, standing here in lacy underthings and garters for a man I knew didn't really want me in the first place.
     
    “Pam? You okay?” Renn's voice took her from the reverie.
     
    “Yeah. Thanks.”
     
    She sat on the bed, her head down.
     
    A minute later, Renn came back. Her gaze was trained on his muscular legs.
     
    “Here ya go. I think these will fit.” He handed her shorts and a t-shirt.
     
    “Thanks. Really. I'm sorry about all of this. I should have had the guts to tell you what was really going on.” Pam struggled into the clothes, aware of Renn's attention as he sat on the bed.
     
    “It was just a misunderstanding. But—”

 
    She looked up at him. “What?”
     
    “Nothing. Thanks for being my guest. I'm glad you enjoyed the desserts.” He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, and she laughed.
     
    The sad thing is, I really like him. If he weren't twenty-seven and a millionaire and I weren't forty and desperate.
     
    “Sure. Bye, Renn.”
     
    She walked out, not looking back as tears stung her eyes.
     
     
     
    * * * *
     
     
     
    “So you just left? Walked away from Renn Milton and his millions?” Janey asked when they talked the next evening. Scorn laced her voice.
     
    “Well, yeah. What was I supposed to do? The whole thing was humiliating. I must have been insane for going in the first place.”
     
    “No. You weren't. Any woman who had the chance would have at least tried it. And you got to meet Renn Milton. He's a recluse, you know. Everyone in town has wondered about him since he got here a couple months ago and bought that old railroad baron's house.”
     
    “I know. But it's crazy. I'm forty. He's twenty-seven and unwrinkled and so handsome. And once I gave myself away, it was done.”
     
    Janey giggled. “The whip. Oh, boy.”
     
    “Don't you tell anyone about this, Janey,” Pam said fiercely, but she smiled. Her friend wasn't the type to tell her secrets. That's why they were still friends after twenty-five years.
     
    “No way. But I wish it had ended differently.” Janey sighed.
     
    “You're a hopeless romantic, Janes. Real life doesn't work that way.”
     
     
     
    * * * *
     
     
     
    When she received a letter in a lavender envelope with no return address at the end of the next week, Pam had to clutch  the mailbox post to keep from falling over.
     
    “Pam, you okay?”
     
    Joan Winchell saw everything, just like most of the nosy gossipers in this town.
     
    “Just fine.” She tried to stand up straight.
     
    “With all that mail you've been getting, I wonder if you're not having a steamy, long-distance love affair.” Joan laughed, a brittle sound that set Pam's nerves on edge.
     
    Pam gritted her teeth as she walked up to her house. She stopped and gazed at Joan full on. “If I were, Joan, you'd be the last to know.” She gave the gaping woman an acidic grin and walked into her house.
     
    Her hands trembled, and she forced herself to open the letter slowly after she'd taken off her high heels and poured a stiff drink. It had been a rough Thursday as it was. This would just top it off—probably.
     
    I'm sure he hates me now, after he's had time to think about it.
     
    Her heart banged rapidly as she slid the note out of its envelope. She read the words by the familiar, flowing hand:
     
     
     
    Dear Pam,
     
    I really enjoyed meeting you. By the way, I've learned that you are the only Pam Smith in town. The woman I thought I was writing left before I moved here apparently. I guess I wasn't meant to reconnect with her.
     
    What would you say to dinner at my place Saturday evening? If I don't hear back from you, I'll assume it's a yes. If it's a no, give me a call.