I lit a cigarette and took a small drag.
Damn it.
I shouldn't have asked Esme that. Shouldn't have pushed. Should've read the room better.
Another drag, slower this time. Smoke curled upward and vanished into the night.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen. Missed calls. Messages. And there it was again, stubborn as ever.
Penelope.
Still there. Still unanswered.
"No more dodging, I guess," I muttered under my breath.
I tapped her name and brought the phone to my ear.
It rang. Once. Twice.
Then she answered.
"I thought you forgot how to answer a phone," Penelope snapped the second I picked up. "Where the hell were you?"
"Busy," I replied. "What's going on?"
A short pause. Then, quieter—but sharper. "You met with Mendy, didn't you?"
"Y—yeah."
"She's been upset for days," Penelope continued. "Let me guess. That has something to do with you?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Maybe."
